WC: I honestly think some of that is Mexican. I was recently with Raul Lopez from [the fashion brand] Luar, who is Dominican, and we talked about that we are both part of the same Latinidad, but from different parts of the culture. While he’s out partying, I’m more likely to take shots of tequila and howl at the moon.
T: You both seem to want to represent where you come from in your work – sexuality, religion, background, family. But do you ever get to a point where you say, “I don’t want to be that guy”?
ao: I try never to think about the way I’m perceived. It’s impossible for me to force my strangeness because it’s just who I am. My real relationships are the ones I want to maintain. The others are totally out of my control.
WC: I like things that move the needle politically, and every once in a while I’ll do something that intentionally has that vibe. But sometimes I just think being is political enough. Just the fact that we’re brown and strange. That alone is —
ao: intrinsically political. But it’s true, there are times when people say, “Omar, paint your nails.” If I wanted my nails painted, I would have come here to have them painted.
WC: It’s about working out your own vision for yourself.
ao: And it’s not just about weirdness. I probably shouldn’t say this, but one time on a shoot they put me in front of a taco truck and I thought, “Everyone here is white, this feels weird.” They asked me to eat the tacos so I told them I was vegan – and I was for two months. I thought, “Look, I know what’s happening, and that’s fine, but you don’t have to reinforce the things that are common.”
WC: As artists and designers, we’ve changed the way things have been perceived over the years, and now things are moving in a completely different direction. My last collection, of course, had Latin influences, but it was purposely not a celebration of Latin culture.