Get To Know Your Local Basic.Space Sellers

Introducing Carol Li of Janky Jewels, Juliet Johnstone, Chad Senzel, Serena Nickson, Lucas Capozzi-Shanks of Who the Fuck Are Tens Club?, and Gigi’s Little Kitchen, office had the opportunity to speak to these sellers who work with Basic.Space to get to know about them and their craft a bit more.

Janky Jewels

In 2018 Carol Li founded Janky Jewels in the city that she calls home– New York. She tells office that the process of designing her jewelry is never linear and that it’s important to incorporate mindfulness as at times, she can be her own worst critic. However, through playful designs and unlimited imagination, Janky Jewels is reminiscent of wearable aquatic fantasy. When asked about her process of designing her jewelry, Li states, “My process is all about building up– so I start with a silhouette or a material I want to utilize, and I go from there.” For her collection featured on Basic.Space, the designer draws inspiration from fish tanks and candy-making TikToks which she mentions reminds her of flame-working.

She emphasizes that Basic.Space is mainly centered around community and an organic structure that works well for her brain. By welcoming her into their space and lending their resources, Basic.Space has allowed Li to grow as an artist all while respecting her vision and integrity. She mentions, “I love when I get a text at a random hour from the team and it’s like, ‘I have this idea that we could work together on! Are you down?’”

Serena Nickson

Introducing Serena Nickson, a New York-based artist with work consisting of portraiture inspired by religious and spiritual iconography. However, her art can be seen on more than just canvas, as for Basic.Space, she hand paints clothing with natural dyes. She began painting with dye on tank tops in the summer of 2021 and casually sold them through her Instagram stories. While at first reluctant to sell her clothing on a website of her own, she decided to partner with Basic.Space which allowed for her to reach a larger audience and aligned with her vision to maintain small collections. From denim pants to silk mini dresses, the artist showcases her talents and paints designs with a focus on floral and lunar arrangements.

However, the inspiration for Nickson is boundless as she mentions that in addition to the iconography, she gathers inspiration for her fabric work from tarot cards, Victorian textiles, dancers, and Fluorine Stettheimer. While the two mediums are different from one another, they work in tangent as her oil paintings are more so inspired from French Impressionism and textures like lace, or glass. When asked why Basic.Space is a good fit to showcase her artwork, the artist states, “I think it’s really refreshing to see a platform that specifically highlights smaller brands/sellers while remaining curated and cohesive.”

Photos by Lucia Bell Epstein

Juliet Johnstone

In a creative capsule of her own, LA-based artist Juliet Johnstone proves that imagination is limitless. With no two art designs alike, the artist and designer speaks true to her audience as customers and admirers of her work race to her platforms to secure a JJ original of their own. From her cut-and-sew carpenter pants, baby tees, and tanks, to trucker hats to even a couch that is featured on the Basic.Space site, the painter invites us into a JJ world filled with fantastical nature and flowers alike. We asked Juliet how she envisions JJ World expanding, she mentions, “I want to put my artwork on everything from random walls, galleries, a custom JJ airplane, shoes, and maybe even a JJ hot air balloon.” She proudly mentions that Basic.Space gives her the platform to showcase those new and exciting ideas that she has. She says, “They are open to new creative ideas which is exciting when doing a partnership!”

Photos by Brittney Christie

Chad Senzel

Vintage collector and dealer Chad Senzel is no stranger when it comes to securing hidden gems and giving clothing another life. Having masterfully created an assortment of designer clothing mixed in with curated items of the 90s, Senzel hones in on the nuanced revitalization of the reselling market. When asked if there was a dream item to source that he’s been on the hunt for, Chad mentions, “Most of the items I’ve wanted to source, yet have been unable to, are things that I want for my collection. There’s a specific Ralph Lauren hoodie from the 90s that has different pant leg style cargo pockets, yet on the front of the sweatshirt. I know of a handful in existence, yet have never encountered one for sale, even at a high price.”

While he is known for having a rack on the streets of Ludlow and Canal, he has opened up his own vintage showroom right in the heart of Chinatown. Not to mention, having a curated collection of his own for sale right on the Basic.Space website making it easy and accessible for those to shop who are not in the city. In addition, the dealer states, “All of the selling that I do is in person and Basic.Space enabled me to have my first online presence. With their platform and presentation, I think the site showcased my edit and approach to vintage clothing quite well. While I love the face-to-face connection of selling in person, many special pieces get purchased quickly and don’t get to be appreciated after the fact. Basic.Space in some ways serves as a gallery of my taste and what I have to offer.”

Gigi's Little Kitchen

What started off as baking in her kitchen in Brooklyn in 2021, Gigi’s Little Kitchen blossomed into what it is today. Baking dreamlike cakes filled with a youthful whimsy, Gigi has made over 250 custom cakes– all while being vegan and dairy free. When asked about the inspiration behind her creativity, she mentions that growing up, her parents encouraged a very hands-on approach to whatever it is that she was creating. However, she places a heavy emphasis on maximalism and color and the collective feeling of wanting to party and to indulge as the creative force behind her pastries. While being in lockdown during the pandemic, the extra time at home allowed for Gigi to hone in on her craft and create the wonder-like creations we see today. She mentions, “I think post-pandemic everything bigger, glossier, and crazier feels right. And the growing number of bakers and food artists on Instagram is a testament to that. What’s cool about the cake world is that cake is inherently celebratory. Knowing I’m building something fun, unique, and one-of-a-kind, specifically to adorn a celebration, is thrilling.”

While Basic.Space is known for bringing creatives from all over different sectors together, all while celebrating and amplifying their differences, it is no shock that Basic.Space has welcomed Gigi into their collective creative force. We asked Gigi why Basic.Space is the place for her work and she states, “Basic.Space is unique because as a seller, you’re folded into a network of other independent artists– some further along than others, but all stellar. Being on Basic.Space encourages authentic collaborations and connects creatives with ease. Having the infrastructure and support of Basic.Space makes expanding my brand– like dipping into merch– seamless.”

Who The Fuck Are Tens Club?

Lucas Capozzi-Shanks founder of Who The Fuck Are Tens Club? is the go-to destination for everything vintage and everything soccer. What started out as just a weekly newsletter, WTFATC has turned into your archival destination for 90s/2000s athletic apparel with weekly capsule collection drops. With the continuous crossover of fashion and sports, we asked Cappozzi-Shanks how he would like to see this crossover continue to grow. He mentions, “We live in an era of the pregame tunnel fit and what an athlete chooses to wear on gameday is often the only real glimpse we get into their true personality. They are media-trained professionals, their social profiles are sanitized, and even their fashion choices can be a bit contrived at times, but it’s all we have! So my hope is that personal style continues to be a gateway for athletes to be more unapologetic, not just about their personal style, but their life, culture, and politics as well.” He continues, “There’s no shortage of sporting inspiration if you’re willing to travel and dig for it. I think that’s why vintage sportswear is increasingly popular, in terms of quality and fit that are closer to what we expect from modern fashion. In short: sports are more interesting when viewed through the lens of personal style, and fashion is more approachable when it takes cues from sports– so the more these continue to overlap, the better.”

With a curation highlighted on Basic.Space, one can head over to the site to shop pre-owned vintage jerseys all with ease. The creative mentions, “The site is populated with such a wide range of goods, so clicking around feels pioneering in a way that other sites don’t (let alone the goddamn algorithm). I like the idea of someone discovering my brand because one of my vintage jerseys caught their eye, even though they were originally there looking at a hand-painted ceramic vase or something. There’s a tasteful unpredictability to the whole Basic.Space shopping experience.”

Photo by Matthew Stith

Culture

Mowalola x Miss Sixty Launch with H. Lorenzo

I swing my legs over the ropes that guard the VIP entrance. Always over (I’m 5’10), never under. I’m late to the H. Lorenzo x Mowalola event, and the line wraps around the block. I don’t want to be an asshole, but I hate waiting in lines; it just ruins everything.

“Hey, my friend is DJing right now. My name should be down,” I say.

The youngish security guard looks me up and down. I have made an adventurous choice for this type of crowd. Neon pink hoodie, bright orange vest, my Raimundo jeans, and Jeremy Scott animal print sneakers. I let him take me in and look over his shoulder. Hmmm… I will be swathed in darkness when he lets me in. Dark night, dark clothes, dark makeup, furs, hoods, leather accessories, and sunglasses. I don’t recognize anyone, but it’s hard to tell who anyone is because I can’t see after 8 pm without my glasses. Night blindness. I can still catch a vibe though.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Mr. Guard says, interrupting my squinting.

“Who?” I ask.

“The woman in charge of the list.”

That’s a drag. I want to dance. Lately, I’m going out in the name of music.

“So…can I go in?” I ask.

“Just wait for her to get back.”

That sounds fine. I wait. The outdoor smoking area is packed. I hope the inside mirrors this, maybe with people dancing instead of blowing smoke in each other’s eyes.

“You got instagram?” The guard asks me after about ten minutes of flirting.

“Can I go in?” I said.

He laughs. He lets me in the event without a wristband.

Inside, I understand why the other guard was gone for so long. I make a mental note to not drink too much liquid; the bathroom line is almost as long as the line to get in. The party is popping, far from a flop.

I push through the crowd solo, following the speakers to the DJ booth. The immersive visuals provide me with enough light to make out Mowalola in a gold bikini and her low rise denim. My pulse races like the horse printed on the front of her coochie. That’s the point of the collection, obviously.

I spend a good thirty minutes grinding my hips before swaying to the open bar. I smile to myself, noting that it’s a mezcal forward menu. I see a drink that disgusts me, so I order it without hesitation. It’s a mezcal coffee concoction. My heart ’s ran through already, why not go all in? I hear Shigecki’s set start so I head back to dance. I’m jumping around, sweating, and I yelp when I pause for a beat. Strippers have materialized and are working poles opposite and behind the DJ booth. Good. Events should be sexy.

I end the night smoking my friend’s Korean strawberry cigarettes taking in the air of cool- when a man comes up to me wild-eyed exclaiming that we look just like one another. I look at him- no, not at all. I turn slowly, remembering what I should be doing: listening to DJ G2G’s set. Back inside, she is playing reggaeton type beats with lasers beaming out of her headphones (I want these). A rave in it of herself.

Too bad all the events end at 2 am in LA.

Culture

Vans Pipe Masters 2024

On the first night, Steve Van Doren and the Vans team hosted the heat draw for the competitors at a casual backyard barbecue. The son of Vans’ co-founder Paul Van Doren, Steve has worked in the family business for decades, and is now known as the Ambassador of Fun. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat made out of old shoes, he was definitely dressed for the part. The surfers, along with family and friends gathered in a relaxed setting as 40 men’s and 20 women’s names were drawn from a shoebox. The competition would run in 3 rounds, the top 4 men and 4 women with the highest scores moving onto the finals. When asked about their strategies, most gave answers along the lines of “get waves.” Refreshingly simple.

After waiting a few days for favorable conditions, the first day of competition kicked off with Women’s Round 1. It was finally time to see Pipeline in action. Banzai Pipeline is known as one of the most dangerous places to surf due to the powerful waves breaking over shallow and sharp reefs. With the potential to crash into the rocky edges or have leashes caught in caves, it takes a ton of skill–-and even more courage–to surf here. No stranger to these risks, the first heat included favorites Caity Simmers and “Queen of Pipeline” Moana Jones Wong, who showed off exactly why they’d been successful here in the past. Midway through the heats, Mother Nature decided to throw in another element as a light drizzle turned into a proper downpour. Rain or shine, the athletes went out unfazed, focused on getting their first points on the board.

After another short day’s break, the competition continued with the women’s second round and the men’s first. The beach was filled with spectators, locals and tourists alike, as the competition was free for all to attend. While fans rooted equally for the women and men, the most popular were the local Hawaiian athletes, which made up about half the competition. The women started off the day again, hyping up the crowd with incredible rides. One ride by Bettylou Sakura Johnson earned the first Bag of Cash of the day– a cash prize (of undisclosed amount) awarded in a brown paper bag to any surfer that pulls off a wow moment, excites the crowd, and pulls off something spectacular regardless of what the conditions might look like.

Winds picked up as the men’s competition began and two strategies quickly emerged: an aggressive approach, targeting any decent waves to build small scores; and a patient approach, waiting for the perfect wave to chase a high single score. Even the waves that were unrideable were a spectacle in itself. The sheer size, illustrated by the length of surfboards riding up and over, and the following crash of white water spray was hypnotizing. Then imagining having to experience it out on the water, duck diving under or being lifted over, brought a renewed respect for the surfers.

After watching these early rounds, it was time for office to head back to the cold. With the competition officially spanning from December 8-20, it seemed the forecast was gearing up for some massive waves— and it didn’t disappoint. Following from afar through Vans’ Instagram and live updates, we saw the full extent of what it means to surf at Pipeline. After a series of electrifying and daring surfs, the 2024 winners were crowned: Erin Brooks and Nathan Florence.

The thrill of watching top athletes compete at the highest level of their sport, even remotely, never fails to inspire. Few sports surrender so completely to the forces of nature as surfing does. And at its core, surfing is all about having a deep respect for the ocean—its unpredictable whims, its immense power, and its ever-changing moods.

Culture

The Cost of Queendom

December 17, 2024

One summer afternoon in New York, a few days after their New York premiere of the acclaimed documentary Queendom, office met up with documentary filmmaker Agniia Galdanova and producer Igor Myakotin at a tattoo parlor on the west side of Manhattan. While Agniia received a tattoo of the portmanteau “DOCU CUNT” across her fists, she — unfazed by the needle on her knuckles — answered our questions alongside Igor about the making of the stirring story that has traveled around the world.

One of the opening scenes of Queendom depicts a ritual many of us are all too familiar with in the 21st century. Jenna Marvin, the documentary film’s central subject, takes her friend along with her to take photos for Instagram. When she finds a suitable backdrop, she poses, poses, poses, and then reviews the photos. Dissatisfied, she gives her notes, and then returns to pose, pose, pose again.

By Brook Aster
Photos by Liv Solomon

The ritual may be familiar, but nothing else about the scene — from its setting to its stakes — is ordinary. The backdrop behind Jenna is a sweeping expanse of ice and snow in a small Russian port town called Magadan. Jenna is dressed in drag, but not drag of the Rupaul’s Drag Race variety; her drag has been referred to as “creature drag.” Her signature white face paint, platform heels and surrealist costumes, with their exaggerated sculptural proportions and use of duct tape and repurposed items, catches the ire of her neighbors and the love of online admirers alike. Jenna eventually accrued a following on social media for her public and technically illegal drag performances, which often involved little more than her walking or being in public spaces but nevertheless were often met with abuse and threats of imprisonment.

But when Agniia first encountered Jenna, she hadn’t yet reached the level of virality that would eventually come in the years to follow. The filmmaker was researching different drag performers in Russia for her sophomore project, which she thought would be a docuseries, when she heard from a friend about a young drag queen from Magadan. “I was like, this is impossible. I have to meet this person,” Agniia remembers. “And I could not actually go meet her because I was in Moscow and she was in Saint Petersburg, so I sent a friend of mine with whom I’d been studying with in film school, and she went and filmed the sample.” The simple video, showing Jenna and her friend getting dressed up for a party, struck something in Agniia. The drag was an earlier, more prototypical version of the style Jenna is now known for; less duct tape and ornamentation, but still that signature striking makeup. “Something sparked. I knew I just had to stick to this feeling,” Agniia says. She decided to turn the docuseries into a documentary solely focused on Jenna.

Around that time, the entire world came to a grinding halt: the onset of COVID-19 pandemic had just led to lockdowns around the globe. With only a couple thousand followers on social media at that point in time, Jenna had tried to branch out and connect with other drag artists in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, but faced rejection; her drag was extremely unconventional, and not even other drag artists quite understood it. “I think we found each other at the right moment, because nobody knew what to do, how to cope with all this,” Agniia says. “Jenna was saying that she was lost, and she also didn't know how to develop her art next.”

Unlike some of the other artists Agniia had initially researched, Jenna didn’t need much convincing to allow the camera into her life. “[Especially] after COVID came, there wasn't really [any] drag in my life,” Jenna recounts when I speak to her later over Zoom. “I realized that what drag is for me is not just a costume, a dress, something that you leave, that you take off and then in the dead of the night you put back on. Later, I understood that this is who I am, that I am art and I am drag, and that this is way bigger and more important than just clothing or costume.”

[LEFT TO RIGHT: Agniia Galdanova, Jenna Marvin, Igor Myakotin]

When it came time to move into production stages, Agniia sent a clip to Igor, who had been referred to her by a past colleague. When Igor saw the footage, he was similarly struck by Jenna — and even more struck to find out she shared his small hometown of Magadan. “It was just so fateful to know that I also come from this town, and I've never seen it through this cinematic lens, through the vision that Agniia has,” he says. “I was mesmerized by the footage, mesmerized by Jenna. I thought to myself, I have to do everything I can [for us] to work together, whatever the collaboration is gonna be.”

The two followed Jenna for over three years; Agniia first relocated to St. Petersburg, where Jenna had taken up residence after leaving her grandparents’ home in Magadan, and later Jenna moved in with Agniia in her home in Moscow. All the while, Igor and his team worked remotely from the United States to meet Agniia’s production needs. Inevitably, with all their time spent together, Agniia and Jenna became close.

“There is an unspoken rule in documentary filmmaking that you have to keep this line, and you can’t overcome certain boundaries,” Agniia explains. “In my first film, it was not an easy subject [to do this with] as well. I was following a family for seven months, and [we became] close, but I always was trying to keep my distance, and was constantly thinking about it. How much should I say? How much should I give?” But as she got to know Jenna, it became clear that this time, that distance wouldn’t be possible. “With Jenna almost from the very beginning, I was like, fuck it. That’s not going to work with this one. I'm going to break this rule 100%. I never regretted it, because that's actually what built up the trust that is there.”

As Jenna's public performances continued and began to garner more public attention, her online audience multiplied. Among her virtual admirers was French fashion maven Michèle Lamy, who would eventually sign onto Queendom as an executive producer. Lamy's discovery of Jenna led to an invitation to walk in the Rick Owens show in Paris — her first time modeling, and her first time leaving Russia in her life. Of course, Agniia and her camera followed. But most of their excursions were not so glamorous; many of Jenna's performances shown in the documentary were undertaken at a real risk to her physical safety, and by extension, to the safety of Agniia. But neither of them were daunted.

I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.

After all, Jenna was used to both taking risks and documenting them well before she was the subject of a film; she and her friends long filmed the often impassioned, sometimes violent reactions of strangers and policemen to their mere existence in public spaces in drag. And after a protest performance in which she wrapped herself in the Russian flag, Jenna was kicked out of beauty school, her last attempt at a practical route before pursuing her drag as a full time venture.

The only time Agniia tried to dissuade her was on Paratrooper’s Day, a Russian military holiday often characterized by the drunk soldiers roaming the streets. The risk for violence was especially high. “On Paratroopers Day, people say you can't come out in skinny jeans or with nail polish,” Jenna describes. “[I think] you should do the opposite. You should really make a statement and come out wearing what you want to wear. I think that clothes, what we wear, is really at some point beyond our psyche, our mind, our understanding. It is as if it's a certain kind of spice that is enticing you and you follow the scent of that spice and you don't see anything else except that scent and you follow it. That's how I see it.”

“I was like, ‘girl, maybe we should not do that,’” Agniia says. “Igor was stressing out and she told us, ‘well, you don't need to follow me. I'm gonna go and do it. I don't care if you're coming or not.’” In the end, Jenna ventured out for her performance anyway, protesting the then-recent invasion of Ukraine. Agniia followed. Not shown in the film is that the two were arrested, and managed to talk the police out of their arrest.

Not too long after, she would have to leave Russia again, this time moving for Paris for good; the film follows her struggles to get a visa in time to leave the country after the onset of the war. “It's already been three years that I've been in France, and it is important for me to understand and remember who I am, and to remember that pain, those moments when we were back in Russia doing drag, fighting with the police and law enforcement,” Jenna says. “It is important that this resistance continues and that those voices are not being silenced. Yes, here there’s much more freedom, there are pride parades and queer people can get married, but this is an illusion because there are also places where you cannot get married and you cannot enjoy the same freedoms. I cling to who I am, who I was from the very beginning. I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.”

“Meeting Jenna gave me hope for the future of the country, because governments come and go, people in power come and go, but the generations change at the same time,” Igor says. “So it warms my heart to see that someone like her came from somewhere like that. If I saw her back then at a similar age, it would be even more personal. I think I would’ve accepted myself as gay quicker, and I wouldn't be nervous or closed and not open to the world or myself… Working with this project also meant that we were amplifying the voices of many, many people who couldn't speak like Jenna could.”

For Agniia, the honor of telling Jenna's story is only paralleled by the honor of having her in her life. “We found each other,” Agniia says. “And what I learned from Jenna is so precious; about life, about art, about surviving. And I appreciate it a lot. This film grew so much larger than just a documentary, because I have a family now, a working family.”

Queendom is now available to stream on Apple TV.