If it’s not absurd, why bother? The creative edict of Aussie designer Jordan Gogos

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Jordan Gogos. The 28-year-old designer and artist is the founder of fashion label Iordanes Spyridon Gogos, was named GQ’s 2022 “Creative Force Man Of The Year” and has works in the Powerhouse Museum and National Gallery of Australia collections.

“I get really existential about not being remembered and about the idea of being gone – in totality.”Credit: Rob Tennent

RELIGION

Did you grow up with religion? I grew up Greek Orthodox, but my mum was Catholic and I went to a Catholic school in Engadine [Sydney]. My family were never really Bible-bashers. The only time religion was ever brought up – especially to me – was when it related to my sexuality. Two years after I graduated, the school started distributing anti-same-sex-marriage flyers. It was cooked.

What do you believe in now? I still identify as Greek Orthodox because, for me, it’s not about the religion anymore. It’s about the cultural roots of it. Even saying “Greek Orthodox”, I feel anchored identifying as Greek.

To what extent does your art and design feel spiritual? Orthodox churches are covered in bronze and gold; they’re really ornate. So whenever I buy bronzes and golds, there’s a connotation there for me. It’s very intentionally embedded into my pieces. My yiayia – who’s still here with me – has shrines in these colours.

Who – living or dead – do you worship? Britney Spears [laughs]. And [The Real] Housewives. Even the problematic ones.

What are your commandments for art and design? Thou shalt not repeat the same process twice. Thou shalt not do anything that’s not absurd. If I’m not, like, weirded out by something, why am I doing it?

DEATH

Okay, we’re talking about death. I’m so scared of death.

Really? Why? You’re still so young. I feel – especially with my art practice – as if I’m in a race against time to get out what I need to. I say to everyone in the studio all the time: “If this is my last collection, is anyone even going to remember me?”

Where does that anxiety come from? I get really existential about not being remembered and about the idea of being gone – in totality. I went to an auction recently and walked past a photo by this artist and was like, “Oh, my god, this photo is so relevant today.” It was from 2002 and it was selling for, like, $1000. I was like [gasps]! I couldn’t find much about the artist on the internet. This photo is so memorable, but there’s hardly a trace of him and the artwork’s not selling for that much. When he made it, he probably felt it was so important to him. But is it important to anyone else? That freaked me out.

You’re adamant about only using materials destined for landfill in your work … Oh, I even speak to them. I literally say, “Which one of you is going to survive?” I get to pick what’s going to hang on a wall for years and what’s going to landfill.

Why is this important to you? I have a relationship with hoarding – through family. When you’re around hoarders, you have to justify why you’re going to get rid of something. You could give a hoarder a $5 trinket and they’d hold on to it as if it’s worth a million dollars. That’s really interesting to me because everything I’ve ever worked with is worthless. I’m obsessed with turning worthlessness into something expensive.

After you die, how do you want to be remembered? Well, I used to say, for being a good person [laughs].

And you’re like, “That’s bullshit now”? You’re gonna die anyway. People are going to remember you for whatever they remember you for. If I can be remembered, that’s good enough!

BODIES

You incorporate bodies of all kinds in your shows: different shapes, different ethnicities, different gender identities. Why is that important to you? I grew up in a family of larger bodies and there’s a certain idea of what a body should be that’s very prevalent. I’ve experienced body dysmorphia, and I still do. I’m not trying to be “woke”. When I had my first runways, I was like, “I’m going to dress the people who genuinely exist in my life and the people who inspire me” – and a lot of people who inspire me sit outside the mould of “skinny”. Also, I hadn’t been to a [fashion week] show until I’d been to my show. Now I really try to put people into my clothes who represent Australia.

So many industries – including fashion – still seem to find it genuinely hard to include and showcase Australian diversity. What’s your advice? I’m really good friends with designers who have larger bodies themselves but who still cast really skinny models. They’re the problem. On the flipside, you can’t tell if they’re also feeling financial pressures, so it’s a very loaded topic. Even the people trying their best still have so far to go, including myself. Also, get cultural advice. And pay for it.

When do you feel most comfortable in your skin? Wearing oversized clothing.

When do you feel least comfortable in your skin? At the beach.

When was the last time you were naked that didn’t involve showering or sex? After too many drinks at [Sydney bar] Absinthe Salon!

What’s your secret party trick? I’m really good at singing The Winner Takes It All, by ABBA.

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Jordan Gagos will exhibit his work at Gallery Sally Dan-Cuthbert as part of the Sydney Contemporary art fair, September 7-10.

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