Interview by Carol Wright | Photographer: McGuire McManus
Heather Hurst, known as Pigmami on social media, has carved out a delightful corner of the internet where she shares styling tips, her thoughts on vintage shopping, and the happenings in her day-to-day life. Hurst hopped on the phone to talk to NYOTA about how New York influences her style, not prescribing an aesthetic to clients and figuring out what you want to get out of your clothes.

Were there fashionable figures in your life growing up that you wanted to emulate?
It was pretty basic, nothing too revolutionary or sentimental, like Marc Jacobs. I was always obsessed with him when I was little; I feel like he was somebody I was really excited about. And I used to dance, and so I loved Bob Mackie costumes, I loved Bob Fosse. I liked the theatrics of it all, like Liza Minnelli and Barbra Streisand. It wasn’t so much a style thing in terms of fashion; it was more like a persona that they were projecting, but my mom and my aunt were definitely big influences on me being interested in style and fashion. Again, not so much in the way that they dressed, but they were raised pretty frugally, and so we would always go to auctions, thrift stores, and things like that, and I feel like they really inspired my imagination around choosing things and the process of acquiring things, not so much like what the final product was.
In college, you studied public health and worked in that field directly after graduating. While in college, did you feel that pull toward fashion, or was it not until starting your vintage shop after school that the fashion itch truly developed?
I knew when I was younger I didn’t want to pursue it full-time. My parents both worked in civil service, they’re a historian and a public school principal, so for me, it just felt like an unrealistic path to follow, so I was going for the more pragmatic path. But I do think I was the person in college who would go; I went to school in Ohio and I would show up in a floor length, hot pink duster jacket or kind of kooky things. I loved costume parties in college or things where we got to dress up, and I had a lot of fun pulling from vintage there, but it was definitely harder being in a more isolated city. And I didn’t have enough money to order things on Poshmark. Thrifting was really the echelon that we were operating in, but there were no good thrift stores in Ohio. So it did kind of take a pause, and I feel like I revisited it. But in high school, it was a huge part of my life. I used to sell and dye; in the YouTube era, girls at school used to pay me to cut off their denim shorts for them or my friends, and I would bleach dye t-shirts for them. That was my version of a lemonade stand. I’d come to school and we’d be in the parking lot, they’d hand me a $20 and I’d take their jeans and bring them back to school the next day and they’d be reworked. I think it kind of took a beat in college, but then I revisited it in adulthood, which I was very happy to do.
When you started on social media, you were in DC, which is not known for its fashion scene. How has moving to New York changed or influenced your sense of style, if it has?
An interesting thing about style for me, at least, and something that I get excited about talking about on Substack, Instagram, and TikTok, is that I always feel like style is a reflection of personality, not even in the way that people say, ‘You should have hobbies and interests, and it reflects that,’ but in DC, I would get a little tired if I wanted to wear something eccentric, feeling like a spectacle. Everywhere you go, you feel like people are staring at you; you feel like they’re aware of the way that you’re dressing, and they’re aware of the way that it might be different. It’s refreshing that in New York, you can basically do anything, and nobody cares. So, I’ve leaned more into that freedom. My aunt has been in New York for 15 years, and I would go up and visit her. She is one of the bravest people I know. She wears whatever she wants all the time. She’ll wear Lady and the Tramp printed leggings to a four-star restaurant and does not care and pushes her dog stroller around. She very much influenced this idea of doing whatever you want, wherever you are, but that’s not as much of my personality. So I feel like New York is a nice place because I don’t feel so put on or a spectacle if I’m wearing something crazy, and somehow, that dynamic socially exhausts me. On the other hand, though, I do find New York to be sometimes overstimulating, so I did have seasons where I’m minimalist, in jeans and a T-shirt because I feel like the, I guess, for lack of a better word, Montessori enrichment of it all, like being with people all the time and the noise and the activities and the galleries and all the people that you get to meet, sometimes that makes you want to throw on whatever and get out the door to live your life. Whereas in DC, my life was a little more insular, so I was curating more what I was wearing or thinking about it more than I do in New York.
In one of your TikTok videos, you discussed that personal style is a muscle. How do you suggest that people who love to shop can balance their potential overconsumption with the need to experiment with and wear items they already own?
Yeah, I do think it’s hard, especially with a culture that’s so steeped in disposability and immediacy, and it’s been something, I mean, part of this answer could be hypocritical because it’s been something I’ve struggled with running a vintage business. I was benefiting from inventory constantly being in my house. I could constantly be trying out new silhouettes and things, which made it a lot easier for me to, quote-unquote, make progress in my style and figure out things, whereas that’s a huge time suck for somebody who’s working a job to be thrifting every weekend and trying out all these different silhouettes. I mean, secondhand would be the first obvious answer. I think a good way, too, is just if you have the opportunity, if you’re out and about, try things on at stores, take a picture, and sit on it. I think sometimes we think that a feeling means you have to be reactive, whether you feel really excited about something or you’re really curious about it; I’ve learned that that doesn’t always mean that I need to buy it, that’s not a suggestion that I need to act on that impulse, but maybe just a nudge that I should explore that. So I’ll usually take a photo, then weeks later, if I’m still thinking about it, I’ll try to find the same thing secondhand. And I also think something that’s honestly not as exciting but is very beneficial is just trying on things at home, like playing dress up. I really like to go to my friends’ houses and help them with their clothes. Sometimes you just need somebody to stand there with you and make you make your closet a mess and try everything on and talk through things to have a sounding board. I did an in-person style session for my friend two weeks ago. She just had so many things, and she knew the answer already. A lot of times, people already know what they need to do, what they feel good in, or what looks good on them, but there’s so much information and so much stimuli all the time that it can get cloudy. You know, ‘Oh, should I keep this? Oh, what if the 80s come back, and then I want to wear this shirt?’ Well, you hate the way you feel in that shirt, so who really cares? And so having somebody in your corner to have that dialogue with you, even if you know what you need to do, is helpful. And it doesn’t always have to be a stylist; it can be a friend. That being said, hiring a stylist can be helpful, not even me necessarily, but clothing is so expensive nowadays, especially if you’re not shopping secondhand, that $200 an hour might seem very expensive. It is a luxury to have somebody just assess your closet, but a shirt at Aritzia could be $200. So, if you’re going to buy a shirt that you end up disliking, maybe it’s good to assess the whole situation holistically and get some new ideas.
I also think that the cycles of everything move so fast now, and there are so many opinions about what constitutes personal style, what’s best to have in your wardrobe, and there is sort of a paradox of the level of interest and passion of people that are creating the content, and then maybe the level of interest and passion of people consuming it might not always be aligned. So something that is very obvious and natural to somebody who’s super into style would be a ridiculous ask for somebody who’s in corporate. And I have a lot of friends that this gets off tangentially into another conversation, but it’s interesting the perception of content from intra-fashion people versus not. I’ll have a lot of fashion friends who are like, ‘Oh, you know, why would I post about a Déhanche belt? That’s so obvious. We all know what Déhanche is.’ None of my friends in real life have any idea what that brand is and have never heard of any of these designers. And they’re just looking for somebody to post outfits that they can get quick inspiration from, which a lot of people, I think, are looking down on now as like, ‘Oh, you know, it’s so copy and paste, it’s so blind copying,’ but if you’re working a nine to six, you have kids, you have other things going on, yeah, you want those quick, easy tips. To tie all that together, people are sort of overwhelmed and it’s hard to know if you’re ever even solving the right problem. So my tip, which does not come naturally to me, is always time and patience. Take a step back, sleep on it, take a photo of it, distance yourself from the problem, and try to see it from a little bit farther away.

You’re also a stylist outside of creating content and running your Substack. How do you strike that balance of pushing clients into new clothing territory while not having them step so outside of their comfort zone that they won’t wear the outfits?
It depends where they’re coming from, not just by demographic or job or anything. I also try to highlight what they’re interested in and improve upon that instead of prescribing or imposing an aesthetic upon them. This might be, I don’t want to say controversial because this is not a brave opinion, but this might be something that confuses people, I’ll say. I don’t usually tell people that I work in fashion; I tell people that I work in personal style because you can have an amazing personal style that is not necessarily in line with what is currently fashionable. So it depends what the client is interested in. I styled a woman a few months ago for a trip that she was going on over the summer to Rome. She had all these aesthetic words she sort of wanted to layer together, and she’s pretty young, and she wanted to dress very contemporary, so I assigned some new pieces to her that I was like, I think these would be great for your style. They were things that were currently available. But I’ve had some people that haven’t bought new clothes since the 2010s or the 2000s, they don’t really want to buy anything new to their wardrobe, they just want a new perspective, and so I just like to meet people where they are.
I think also a lot of people are putting too much pressure on themselves to think that more people are thinking about our outfits than they are. Maybe that’s an anti-stylist take, but the way we present ourselves is important and it’s important that you feel good about it, but it’s good to assess where that’s coming from. A lot of it, honestly, is more like therapy than anything. It’s not really like, ‘Oh, this is what’s fashionable, let me help you understand that,’ unless that’s sort of what they’re asking for. A lot of what I’m grappling with people is, I used to feel this way; maybe I got away from myself, whether that’s starting a new job, you had a baby, you moved climates, and you’re not sure how to dress anymore, you were in college, and you kind of want to grow up your style a little bit, or I’ve styled some 55-year-olds that are like, I feel so uncool and I just want to know what’s up. Most of the time, I’m just saying you already got it going on; you don’t really need me; you need somebody to refresh and help you get a new vision around what you already have that’s really working. That was a long-winded answer, but usually, I’m not trying to get somebody in Rick Owens boots up to their thighs, but it’s just like, ‘Okay if you really like capes and draping silhouettes and you’re wearing headpieces and bags, how can we make that office appropriate?’ What silhouettes can we pull from this? How can I get people to see volume, color, proportion, and things differently in a way that’s realistic to them?
Speaking of your Substack, it often discusses the contradictions of the fashion industry, and there are so many. For example, the “clean girl” aesthetic is in, but at the same time, fashion is about expressing yourself through clothes and wearing whatever you want. How do you think people can move toward wearing what feels good versus what’s “in?”
Maybe this answer is too psychological or philosophical, but I think it honestly depends on the person’s value system. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to hyper-subscribe to trends. If your utmost value and what you think is important, and how you want to connect with people is via community and belonging. Then, it makes complete sense to me that you might want to adopt this clean girl aesthetic or might want to adopt a movement that makes you feel connected to other people. If you feel your best going out, I don’t mean to drag a subpopulation, but if you feel your best going out in the West Village and seeing everybody else in their slick back buns and you want to be in that kinship with people where you’re like, I’m a little shy, I want to present myself in a way that I know that other people might be interested in the same things as me and connect with people that way, then I think that’s fine. And then if you’re somebody who wants to participate in subversion and who wants to express themselves in a different way, like I said, whether that’s subversion, or whether that’s hyper-niche interests in certain designers. I just love the psychological or more philosophical aspects of style where it’s like, why are people getting dressed and how does that contribute to the place that they want to take in the world?
My advice to people would be, what do you want to get out of your clothes? We think a lot about what clothes can do for us, but not in a way that usually makes us feel good. It’s usually a form of self-flagellation. How am I not good enough, and how will clothes fix that? Versus, how can you use clothes to almost make your life easier? Sometimes, if I don’t feel like talking to people, but I know that it’s good for me, I’ll put on a crazy hat so I know that people will talk to me because people at a party will be like, ‘What’s the deal with your crazy hat?’ And then you’ve immersed yourself in the world, and that’s an easy step. If I want to be ignored, maybe I’ll dress like I want to be ignored. It’s almost an armor to move throughout the world. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people wanting to armor themselves in a way that might be seen as trendy, I just think that speaks to a different value system.
It’s gotten really messy with the advent of social media blurring the lines across personal style at the mass consumer level for most of America versus the very insular fashion community. I think they’re extremely different communities, and the crossover can be really confusing to consumers because people are like, ‘Where are people wearing these crazy things?’ And I’m like, well, they’re fashion people. That’s their place in the world. That’s how they fit in. That’s how they exist. Of course, they would be in these rooms with everybody else and their crazy necklaces. Because then you get in these rooms, and you’re like, this doesn’t look so crazy; this is like the Dr. Seuss convention. Everyone’s wearing it; it’s almost crazy if you’re not dressed in fashion, then that’s cool, and that’s really subversive that you would come to the Christie’s auction in your rock climbing shoes, then that’s actually the cool thing because everyone’s wearing a crazy hat so it’s not cool anymore.
I loved how, in one of your Substacks, your friend called you “habitually down” (someone who will go basically anywhere and participate in most activities). Although this might not be your natural disposition, has it served you well since the fashion industry, especially in New York, is all about being at shows, brand events, and having those face-to-face moments to connect?
That post was sort of inspired by my style. Forgive me for the multiple tangents that I’m always weaving into my answers, but I think for a lot of people, consistency is a really big thing in style, obviously, because you want to make a habit and sort of wear the same thing every day, but New York was really inspiring me to experiment, and I was also inspired by the idea of ephemerality, you can have pieces that you love and always wear them differently and I think some people get down on themselves saying like, ‘Oh, I bought this skirt and I’m so obsessed with it, but I only like to wear it one way.’ And I’m like, so what if that’s the one way that you like to wear it, just wear it that one specific way. And I sort of think of social engagements and things the same way; I think a lot of people, for a good reason, are really concerned with making the most of our time, and everything is sort of optimized and planned and over-engineered, and I just wanted to experiment. I took sort of a year, not intentionally, but when I had written that piece, in hindsight, I realized that my year was very much about seeing if things would be fun. A lot of times, they weren’t fun, or it was very strange, or nothing greater really came of it, but I think it’s important just to go see. And I feel kind of the same way about style. I’m like, you don’t really know that these pants will solve all your problems; you kind of have to wait until they come in the mail and try them on with things, and maybe it doesn’t work, but I think the experience of doing all of it is worthwhile. And I think that’s part of my value system. That’s something I strive for, even if it doesn’t come naturally to me. I think it is being open to the experience, whatever that may bring.
And I think that’s true of style and of things to do. I want to go; I want to say hi to people. That outcome might not always be what I want, but I would like to try. And I don’t think trying is embarrassing. A lot of people are also worried about rejection, whether that’s rejection by their presentation or social rejection, and I mean, the worst thing can happen to you, and you’ll still probably be fine. You should caveat that with the worst thing socially. I don’t mean like getting stabbed or something, but you know, for anybody who’s bean souping in the comments, but you know, so what if somebody doesn’t get your outfit? I’ve been to a dinner party once, and they needed to make room for me because there was no seating chart, and the person would not move over. They were like, ‘I don’t want that girl to sit here, and I’m not moving,’ and so I pulled up a chair, and I said, ‘Well, it sucks for you because I’m going to sit next to you this whole dinner.’ I’ve come to the conclusion for now that I think sometimes the friction of the world is the only thing that can catapult you deeper into yourself. And you kind of need to be around all these things that you like or don’t like, stress you out, or push and change you so that you can respond to it, and that response is the essence of who you are.

What advice do you have for aspiring content creators?
I would say be consistent, be receptive to feedback, but also have a way to check in with yourself and understand where you want to go. If you don’t know where you want to go, any road will lead you there. I don’t want to start a tip with don’t, a negative tip. I would say be consistent and have a dialogue with yourself about what you want to get out of things. I would also say what you put out is what you’ll attract back. So it’s very easy in the algorithm to put out things that you know will do well, but eventually, you’ll find people that, I don’t know, I posted that I bid on a rabbit foot on an auction; it’s a long story, and I lost the rabbit foot and then a girl responded and was like, ‘Oh, I won like a fox head at an auction a few weeks ago,’ and now we’re buddies. So if you put out your weird stuff, you’ll find the people that like the weird stuff, and I think that’s the better way to go about it.
This story first ran in Issue 39: The Digital Issue. Read more from the issue here
