Attia Taylor: You've been in the fashion industry as a stylist and model for many years. You also started a vintage store at the age of 21. Can you share more about that and your journey in the fashion industry?

Mariah Walker: I'm French and American, and I started school at 12 in the South of France. When I opened my store I had no clue what I was doing, but I had this interest or dream. I’m 61, so that was a long time ago. Thrift stores were something I really liked, and I said, “I just want to do this.”

I had enough support from friends and my boyfriend at the time. I had no idea what to do—now you can look online, but it wasn’t like that back then. If you wanted something, you had to go out and do it.

Thrift stores at the time sold items by weight. A lot of  thrift stores had so much stuff. I wanted a very clean store that didn’t smell and that had a different look (my inspiration was Agnes B.) Instead of buying by weight, I contacted wholesale people and said, “I want to buy by piece.” They told me it would be more expensive, but I could come in and look through everything. So that’s what I did. I’d go into these huge wholesale places, with piles of clothes like a mountain, and I’d choose the pieces myself. Then I’d bring them from Paris to Nice, have them washed.

I really liked buying, decorating windows, and dressing my friends, but I didn’t like selling. Figuring out pricing wasn’t my thing. After about a year and a half, I realized it wasn’t going to work for me.

So that led you to modeling and styling, and you worked at The Art Department for years?

I worked at Kenzo at 16 as a receptionist, and Kenzo said, “You can do my fittings.” Because I failed in school, I thought, “Well, I’ll do this.” But I’ve never really felt at ease with the job. I learned a lot being an in-house model. You don’t realize it, but it’s great training. You learn how clothes are made.

It’s a great education in how clothing evolves, how and why it's made. You’re part of a team. You're not supposed to talk, but you hear everything. It’s very demanding and long, but it’s an amazing school. I did it for more than one designer. It really shaped my taste. You learn without even knowing you’re learning. You start to understand stitching, fabric, how a show is done, what the trends are, and even the designer’s anxieties. It’s not glamorous, but it’s fascinating to see how a creative concept goes through a whole process.

But I wasn’t happy doing it. It was complex emotionally, and not an easy process for me. So I told myself, “I’ll do this for the money, and then I’ll do things for myself.” I’ve always done that. After I sold my store and came back to Paris, I asked myself, “Do I want to do windows, or styling?” I met the editor-in-chief of Elle, and she told me, “You’re a little old to be an assistant. If you have taste, you have taste. Just make a book and figure it out.” So that’s what I did. I made a book because I knew photographers and people. My fantasy was with this one magazine I loved called Jill. Those were the people I wanted to work with.

The first job I did was for Le Printemps with Gregoir, the art director of the magazine Jill. I was very lucky to have people I respected and admired, who became mentors. I met great people. You need talent, yes, but there’s also luck. I never assisted anyone, so it was a different way of approaching fashion. Once again, if you want to do something, you work hard and figure it out on your own. That’s been my path—I always did things the hard way. Instead of going through step one, two, three, I’d just say, “I’m going to do it.” 

So, you’re now working in the space of workwear, and I imagine as a stylist you’ve seen so many different styles and eras of fashion. What brought you to creating a brand that focuses on utilitarian clothing with its own unique lane?

My approach to workwear is a canvas. Everyone wears denim differently. Even if you take a basic Levi’s or Wrangler, five people in a room could wear the same pants in 5 different ways. Workwear has history: cowboys and workers wore it. Indigo came from one place, cotton was picked by others. It all adds up.

French workwear is iconic. Farmers wore it, street sweepers, factory workers, and artists, too. It’s both common and personal. That’s what I love about clothes. I love fashion, but for me it’s a language. It’s not what you wear, it’s how you wear it.

For me, Au Boulot Workwear starts with something basic and evolves through collaborations. It’s my brand, but it’s also about how others interpret it. That canvas allows me to show my approach to fashion: consume less, make less, and upcycle or recycle what’s already here. I go to flea markets, buy second hand vintage pieces, and upcycle them. 

From a business perspective, it’s hard. That’s why I also use deadstock—it's more consistent size wise . Still, I see a lot of young adults who think the price is too [expensive], and I agree. There are shipping costs, washing (everything gets a special wash so it’s softer), sewing, labeling—it all adds up. My margins are very low, and it’s hard to make money. I understand why it feels expensive, but I can’t afford to lower the prices.

That probably changes who you market to as well. Sometimes the product is made for one audience, but it’s harder to sell to them.

Yeah. That’s frustrating. It’s a learning process. Being an artist and running a business don’t always go hand in hand.

You mentioned doing collaborations. What’s been one of your favorites at Au BoulotWorkwear ?

I don’t have a favorite, each person brings something different and that's my goal.  I recently did a collaboration with MOIO, a program in Zimbabwe—started by a daughter and her mother to empower the women in their community —those  jackets can be found at Just One Eye in LA. I love the result 

I also did a collaboration with a grandmother in Mexico. She did beautiful embroidery, but she didn’t have an email or PayPal. I had to ship it to someone who would drive it to her and pay her in cash. I only made 5 because it took too much time. 

 The recent  collaboration with Studio Route 29 is something I am happy and proud of .

There’s Lisa Poemcrown, in Carolina. She looks for old quilts and made one of our first collaborations. One had dinosaurs from the ’70s. I wouldn’t wear it, but people who saw it loved it. That kind of reaction is meaningful.

Each artist or artisans brings something to the brand .  Some jackets haven’t sold yet, but I love them. Some collaborations were too complicated to continue with. But what I look for is someone who brings something I wouldn’t have done myself.

Creating things like a jumpsuit or a hat through upcycling—has that made the business easier or more challenging?

Doing something more than once is always hard at first. You think you’ve figured it out, then things change. I’ll do a market and see everyone wants white. So I get white. Then they buy the blue, and I’m surprised.

Honestly, I haven’t been doing this long enough to know. I just focus on what I want to do and see if it works. It all evolves. I wore French workwear, people liked it, and I started the business. 

Shipping is getting more expensive. The euro is high. I’m trying to make it work as a solo business. I face a situation and find a solution. Initially, I wanted to use only vintage ribbons to upcycle the  jackets—but finding vintage ribbons in big quantities is challenging. So now, it’s evolving. You adapt. The goal is to be happy with the result and make it sustainable.

It’s so important to understand where small business owners are making progress and also facing challenges. We’re hopefully moving back to slower fashion, where people appreciate higher prices for better quality and longevity. Thank you for being creative and not cutting corners.

When I sell, I ask people, “Does it feel good? Are you going to wear it?” If they hesitate, I tell them, “Walk away. If you still want it, come back.” I want people to actually wear it. That’s my goal. Not for it to sit in a cupboard. I don’t tell people, “It looks great on you.” That’s your decision. If you’re not going to wear it, it’s not worth it.

I have one last question. It’s a bit different, but we love to ask: what’s your favorite place to eat in France?

In Paris, there’s a restaurant I’ve been going to since I was 16.  We celebrated our wedding there , and we brought our kids there . It’s next to the Pompidou Museum. It’s called Le Hangar. It’s on a tiny little cul-de-sac with no traffic that serves food that I love .

I call them and say, “Hi, it’s Mariah. Can we have a table?” We know the owners. It's a restaurant that we go to as a family . I love the food and the story behind it. It’s not fancy. Yes, there are galleries and artists who go there, but also regulars who’ve been going for years. Hope you enjoy it!