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Getting a foothold in the fashion industry can be daunting for anyone—but in Christian Allaire’s case, eking out a place for himself as an Ojibwe journalist from the Nipissing First Nation reserve in rural Ontario was especially challenging. As a result, during his tenure as Vogue’s senior fashion and style writer, Allaire has played his position forward, platforming other Indigenous creatives in stories on everything from dream catcher hair to the rise of model Quannah Chasinghorse andVancouver’s Indigenous Fashion Week. Now, in a new memoir, From the Rez to the Runway Forging: My Path in Fashion (Collins), Allaire delves into his profoundly meaningful (and sometimes isolating) experience being a change-maker in his field.
This week, Vogue spoke to Allaire about building a career spotlighting Indigenous fashion, drawing inspiration from Nlaka’pamux author Terese Marie Mailhot, and what he’d tell his younger self if the two were to meet for coffee.
Vogue: How are you feeling about the release of your first memoir?
Christian Allaire: It’s bizarre. You spend so long with a memoir, but you don’t really think about people reading it. So when that time comes, it’s nerve-wracking. It’s very earnest and very raw, so I’m trying not to think about people reading it!
How does the experience compare to releasing your first book, The Power of Style?
My first book was very much about championing other people, and this one is very personal and very much focused on me. I don’t really tend to do a lot of writing that’s personal. I much prefer telling other people’s stories, so it was a challenge to do this, because it made me face a lot of things that I probably have been trying not to face.
I was so taken by your description of the contrast between the life that you ve built in New York and the life that you describe at home with your family in Canada. What’s helped you unite those two sides of yourself?
Life on the rez is pretty drastically [different from] living in New York. It’s very centered in community and nature and our cultural teachings, so living in a concrete jungle is very much the opposite of that. For me, it’s been about finding fellow Native folks in the city and communing and connecting that way, and having a sounding board for whenever I’m missing certain elements of home or culture. Finding my friends and my people has really helped me bridge those two worlds.
Do you have favorite examples of Indigenous or Native-written books that made you feel like there was room for your story?
Definitely Heart Berries by Terese Marie Mailhot. She was so open and honest about her mental health, and I found that really inspiring. I really struggled with being open, to be honest. There were a lot of things I didn’t want to put in my memoir. But reading her book sort of made me realize, Oh, for a book to be good, you kind of have to go there. I really love that book.
I loved getting a chance to revisit your brilliant body of work for Vogue in the memoir. Is there any story you’ve done that still really stands out for you?
I did a story in 2018 was called “How 6 Indigenous Designers Are Using Fashion to Reclaim Their Culture,” and that was really the first time I wrote about Indigenous fashion for such a big magazine. I wasn’t sure if it would land or if people would care, but I got such a big reaction to that story. It was a top performer on the site for a while, and just seeing it shared so broadly and having people say, “Oh my God, we feel so seen,” or “We never thought Vogue would cover this” really made me realize how important it is to be telling those stories. Really, it was that first story that kind of kicked off my whole drive to do those things. Once I saw the appetite for it, I was like, I think I’m onto something. Ever since then, I’ve just continued to do those stories, and luckily, they’re still landing!
Your description of feeling immediately at home at your first Santa Fe Indian Market was so lovely. Are there other spaces in New York that make you feel that way?
Well, there are always great things going on at the National Museum of the American Indian. I go to a lot of their events, and it’s really fun because you’ll always see a lot of the same Native art folks there. I really love going there. And there are always great musicians playing in the city, like my friend Laura Ortman who’s a violinist. I love going to her shows; you’ll run into everyone there.
It’s a big city, but it’s a very small Native world, and basically anytime there’s an Indigenous exhibit or a show, everyone goes to them. I think that’s my favorite thing: You show up to an event and you know you’re going to be surrounded by your community.
This might be a corny question, but with the “coffee with my younger self” TikTok trend going viral, I have to ask: What do you wish you could go back and tell yourself when you were first starting out in fashion?
I kind of thought about that the other day, and I think I would just encourage myself to be proud of who I am and embrace the oddness of my background. Obviously, there’s not a lot of Indigenous representation in fashion—that’s not a secret—and when I was just starting out, I took that as a sign of it being not worthy and kind of ignored that side of myself. I would tell myself now: “Actually, the fact that you’re a minority in this space is an advantage, and it makes it more important for you to tell those stories. Be proud of who you are and pitch those stories even if people are turning you down, because eventually, people are going to wake up and realize how cool your culture is and how amazing the fashion is.” Basically, don’t shun that side of yourself.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
