Red-carpet favorite Jason Wu on dressing up, diversity, and the importance of integrity

Jason Wu is one of the few designers who, in 2020, didn’t feel the urge to design a sweatpant. Despite the fact he was “living in” his own pair and creating his elevated eveningwear collections at home, his gut instinct told him to stick to his aesthetic. “I was very insistent that we kept the DNA of the brand really pure,” says Wu, speaking on the phone from his home in New York. “It was difficult for a time, but I’d spent almost 15 years establishing the house of Jason Wu. It was really important to me to stay true to who we are.”

And as we re-emerge into society, Wu’s commitment to his vision has paid off; women, he says, are ready to shed the monotony of their lockdown wardrobes. “After a year of working from home and being on Zoom all the time, all I want to do is put on a tuxedo and go somewhere glamorous.” His spring/summer collection includes frothy midi dresses covered in ruffles that mimic an oyster shell, diaphanous shirts with pussy-bow neckties and pleated poplin dresses that would be perfect at a picnic – all without an elasticated waistband in sight.

Since establishing his label in New York in 2007, Wu has been synonymous with that sense of easy night-time glamour. His vision was formed early, when he started sewing gowns for his dolls when he was a child; his mother bought him his first sewing machine and hired an after-school tutor, who taught him how to sew. His talent for tiny dresses led him to a job with Integrity Toys aged 16 – a company he still works with today.

Later, he transitioned to life-sized garments, studying at Parsons in New York City and training under Narciso Rodriguez. Just a year after launch, he was nominated for a CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund award. His refined aesthetic has cultivated an army of red-carpet devotees, from Diane Kruger to Priyanka Chopra and Thandiwe Newton; Wu says he wants women to feel like “the best version of themselves” in his dresses. Indeed, former First Lady Michelle Obama opted for Wu for the White House inauguration ceremony in 2009 – a white, one-shouldered gown, which was said to symbolize hope.

“It was so emotional to realize I had become part of American history,” he says, referring to the moment he saw Obama on television, walking out in his dress – the first and only design he submitted to her team. (It’s yet another example of Wu’s on-the-money instinct.) It was fitting that Obama, America’s first Black First Lady, chose to wear Wu to promote the message of diversity and inclusivity at one of the most-watched events in modern political times. “Fashion is a great communicator,” he says.

Wu, who was born in Taiwan but moved to Canada aged nine, has long been championing diversity within the industry. But the Black Lives Matter and Stop Asian Hate movements, as well as the pandemic, have made that mission more important than ever. “Something that’s really come to the surface in the past year is how we’re all represented in fashion, and how we’re represented in our society,” he says. “When I was growing up, I didn’t really have any designers or models to look up to, because there weren’t a lot of people who looked like me. Every fashion and beauty campaign featured mostly western faces, as that was simply the standard of beauty.”

“I remember wanting to look different; I looked in the mirror and didn’t appreciate my looks,” he says, reflecting on the Asian tradition of eyelid surgery that he admits he once wanted; his mother persuaded him otherwise. “My mom is really wise and told me I was going to come into my own. Now, I’m glad I didn’t change my features. At 38 years old, I finally feel like I’m comfortable in my own skin.” There’s a palpable feeling of empowerment and self-awareness when Wu talks about his identity today; a bigger-picture mood that can be summed up and sartorially distilled in his simple refusal to create sweatpants – he didn’t “change or go with the [lockdown] trend,” he says. “To be able to do what I do in 2021, as an Asian designer with a largely Asian team, is something that’s very special.”

Just weeks ago, he Instagrammed photographs of his 10-person, in-house team. “We often hear in the press how important the Asian consumer and market is to the global fashion industry. What we don’t hear about nearly as much are the Asian talents that work behind the scenes in nearly every aspect of fashion,” wrote Wu in the post, which went out to his half a million-plus followers. In it, he named each member and detailed their role, from his CEO Lynn to fabric sourcing manager Sherry. “They are all hugely responsible for contributing to the beautiful work that we put out,” says Wu. “It’s more important than ever for me to highlight that. We’re only just coming to the cusp of inclusivity from a size point of view, and a cultural point of view. People expect the fashion industry to be forward-thinking and forward-looking. In 2020, we realized that we are not doing nearly enough.”

Wu thinks the industry needs to continue to learn from 2020. The pace of fashion, he says, had become frenetic, and the pandemic has placed his focus back on creating smaller collections that are designed to stand the test of time. “I’ve always believed in creating garments that are timeless,” he says, referring to his clothes as “American couture”. His atelier, implemented in 2011, enables him to develop and produce all his clothing in-house – something that proved invaluable during 2020, when the world ground to a halt. “The idea of the atelier is much rarer in New York than in Europe,” he says. “I get to see how everything is made, I get to work with my pattern makers, seamstresses and to work with them every day in that micro-detail way. We get to develop a garment organically. It’s the most inspiring thing.”

This more localized, familial approach to fashion is resonating today. “It’s that sense of collaboration that I have with my team that I think makes us special,” says Wu. “It’s that touch of the hand, that human factor.” To reiterate his earlier sentiment, fashion is both a great communicator and a connector – of people, of communities, of craft.