A queen who makes all the waves as a designer in the NYC nightlife circuit, Jazzmint discusses her artistry, being one half of a drag couple, and conflicting thoughts on her recent GLAM nomination.
Thotyssey: Hi , thanks for chatting with us today! How is 2024 treating you?
Jazzmint: Hi, thank you! ’24 has been really weird so far! It started in the most sensational way; Diana [Dash] and I hosted our second annual New Years Eve party at Book Club Bar in the East Village. This year we chose the Russian born Parisian painter Erté for our theme. I have a little theory that most of Bob Mackie’s career was inspired by Erté’s paintings. Book Club is a fabulous space that cultivates a mixed crowd of drag fans, bookworms, movie buffs, people who work in fashion, etc. etc.–divas who can appreciate a more niche reference. It’s always fun… plus, the 1920s feel so infamous / celebratory / vibrant / transitional / festive… perfect for NYE.
Waking up after our party, back in the real world, felt less nice and sort of uncanny. It’s hard to grasp the kind of violence that’s occurring on multiple continents right now, our connection to it, as well as our privilege as New Yorkers. It’s felt weird for a while, and the clash / guilt of celebrating while knowing there’s a genocide occurring is deafening. Keeping busy helps?
It’s all we can do sometimes! You and Diana Dash are a fascinating pair because you contribute to the city’s artistry on so many levels. In drag, you’re a go-to wardrobe designer while Diana is known for her wig styling. Is it ever challenging to balance the time you must both spend designing and constructing with the time you need to be a couple, to be individuals, to run a household, etc.?
Thank you! It does become overwhelming at times, but one benefit of our relationship and professional overlap is that we understand at a fundamental level what we each need to thrive. We shared work spaces for many years before finally splitting our studio into separate rooms this year, and it’s unimaginable to me how we ever managed with the backs of our chairs rubbing together while I sewed and he styled hair for so long.
The real secret is patience and respect and generosity. I wouldn’t be where I am without the thousands of opinions and fittings and critiques and takeout dinners and laughs we’ve shared after midnight six days or more a week. No one in this life will ever creatively understand me as deeply as he does. He can anticipate my vision before I speak it aloud, and that has been a sanctuary for me throughout our relationship. He really is one of the most profound tastemakers I’ve ever met, and I feel challenged and inspired. By the way, our minds interact through every project and idea. I’m really lucky to have found a visionary to call my partner.
I also fancy myself to be the ultimate domestic goddess-deeply inspired by Nigella Lawson. I know few if any people in our tax bracket as dedicated to hosting a CUNT dinner party as me, and the ways he helps me bring those fantasies to life never goes unnoticed. We’ve managed to build a beautiful home together, and so much of it is attributable to his thrifty talent for combing through Facebook marketplace and antique malls to find, for example, our reclaimed barnwood kitchen island, or 1960s enameled brass Lilly bouquet chandelier, or claw-footed brass glass top coffee table. It’s easy to host a fabulous bacchanalia when you have a boyfriend to furnish your apartment beautifully (and on a budget).
I’ve also rediscovered my love for painting over the past year, which helps me step away from the work without the guilt of not spending every single moment while living in New York City working to pay rent. After I finished my MFA, I was feeling really suspicious of the art world, so it was easy to fall deeply in love with clothes… but enough time has passed for me to miss making silly little paintings; I love a painting that’s a joke! That probably has something to do with why I love Diana. No one has ever made me laugh so much.

With all the work you two do in design and everything else, do miss having more time to perform in drag yourself?
No! Lol, just kidding. I do wish I could be hosting In drag more. I love to chanteuse, and I like to perform a few times a year. But my real passion is building the look, and driving myself insane over how to style all the details. My real wish is that I never had to take on any client work… because I’m obsessed with myself, lol! I wish I could spend all my time putting together little outfits to go have beautiful cocktails and gossip in the club. But the bills need to get paid, and even I have to admit that there are some divas in this city that are so incredibly cunt that I have to dress them. It would be a crime for us not to collaborate and share ideas in pursuit of a more beautiful fantasy.
I love having my horizons expanded by the minds of the models I get to dress, and the random nature of custom commission work has been the most important educational experience of my life. Every project comes with new challenges and skills I have to learn, which is the incalculably valuable gift that my divas have given to me. Even when it’s annoying and I want to freak out, I’m grateful to get to do this work. And when there’s time left or a special occasion, I’ll get on the mic and sing a silly little number or host an evening.

Can you tell us a bit of your origin story?
Diana and I are both from Pennsylvania, and met while I was doing my BFA at Penn State. We were long distance, and he would come see me every week or so and introduced me to drag and makeup. When I was accepted to the New School for my Masters in Fine Art, we decided to move in together.
Moving to New York really was the first time I was meaningfully confronted with my gender and identity. I went from feeling really isolated, to suddenly drowning in a sea of beautiful queer artists and trans people from all around the world, seemingly all wearing the most incredible clothes. We were not rich and I couldn’t afford to buy anything that I wanted, but I also could not handle the thought of being a booger. The first winter we were here, I was really depressed and wore all black basics almost every day. I wanted to be invisible. After that period, I promised myself I’d never let myself be made small like that again.
Though I couldn’t afford to shop my way into cuntdom, I could afford to buy fabric and learn to make the clothes I wanted. I could teach myself how to manifest the fantasy I saw In my head and figure out how I wanted to feel. After several years of hundreds of ugly garments, I feel like I began to catch a stride and figure out what worked for me and my clients.
My first commission was for a kind, lovely diva who lived in New York and has since relocated to Salem: Miz Diamond Wigfall. She will always have a special place in my story because she put her trust in me during those very early formative years, and showed me that if I kept learning and trying to improve, my experiments could become a source of income.

What’s your process like, working with clients? Is it usually a straight up sketch of what they want, a few vague ideas, or somewhere in between? And would you say your looks have any signature details for those with a keen eye?
I almost never sketch–it just isn’t part of my practice. I never think a designer’s sketch looks or feels like the finished product. It doesn’t feel productive or insightful to me–no shade! I much prefer to look at tons of references from films or magazines or runways or performances, and talk about colors and textures and watch videos and listen to music. And when we feel like we have a plan, I like to meet in the garment district and grab a coffee before dragging my poor divas around to half a dozen or more fabric and trim stores to find all the perfect materials. I think it’s so special and important for people to be engaged and involved in the decision making! It clears up a lot of the ambiguity and ensures people really get what they want, without me having to guess. It’s also nice to hear about their lives and their dreams and ideas, or their concerns if they are a performer. I gather all kinds of special details that would be missed if I just sent them a sketch.
I like for it to feel more collaborative and intimate. I don’t ever want to work with someone who I wouldn’t be friends with. I want every client I work with to feel special and admired and celebrated by the work we get to do together. I’m someone who is insane and takes everything so seriously. If they ask me to make their clothes, it’s an honor and a privilege for us both to work together to bring their ideas to life… so it has to be a person I feel connected to and inspired by.
I feel like a signature feature to the design ethos of the House of Dash is uniqueness and quality. I never want to go for the obvious choice. Anyone else can make you something that already exists, I want us to push the boundary and go somewhere new–if not new in the world, at least new to us! I want everything to feel rooted In intention and concept and authenticity.
I’m also materially a snob, we can work in cheap fabrics-but I want to handle them like the finest silk. We can use rhinestones if it feels chic and appropriate to reference classic queer / showgirl / drag aesthetics, but if we’re not going that direction then why don’t we avoid the glue and sew on crystals instead?
Something that I take really seriously is the lifespan of the work. Things like glue are not archival, and so I avoid them whenever possible. Thread can last 1000 years and no shade someday I’m gonna need to pull all the clothes out of these girls closets to have a retrospective and I can’t have everything falling apart when that happens.
It’s also like, we could get fake pearls or glass beads… sure. But often times for only a little more money or sometimes the same cost, we could get freshwater pearls or semiprecious gemstones like dyed jade or agate or quartz or moonstone or hematite or sodalite or chalcedony or garnet, each of which have special energetic and emotional properties, and it just makes the work feel so much more custom and special. I want them to feel so special and celebrated, and I feel like those little details we can take the time to consider are a celebration of them as an artist and member of our community. Everyone can be cunt, it’s just about intention and thoughtfulness.
But also within that snobbishness…I’m so unafraid of a sequin or rhinestone. I think classic drag is more important to be referencing now than any other time. As a trans person, and especially with my trans clients, it feels so powerful to lean into drag references which aren’t pursuing cisgender pass-ability politics. It feels so chic and confident to honor those aesthetic movements which informed the cultural moment we’re in now.
How do you feel about being nominated for a Best Fashion Design Glam Award this year?
I’m flattered to have been nominated of course, because I understand what a huge compliment it is coming from my friends and peers. But to be fully transparent, I find the structure of the Glam Awards to be really troubling. I’ve lived and worked in New York City nightlife since 2017 and have witnessed a pattern of platforming people who are actively dangerous within our community, or just not a fair representation of the work that’s happening in New York nightlife.
Diana made a really good point that I agree with: a big part of the problem is the voting structure, because you’re required to fill out a name for every category. I think a lot of people who don’t know what to put default to the most recognizable names, as opposed to who might deserve the nomination or award most. I know a meritocratic system is an impossible ideal, but there has to be a way that we could structure the awards to represent something other than a popularity contest.
I have a hard time taking the nomination seriously when there are other nominees who are so deeply unserious. It’s frustrating, because the idea of the awards as a New York institution feels so important to our community. People deserve to be celebrated, but when we allow the voices and actions of racists and transphobes to be uplifted it becomes something I don’t want to be affiliated with.
Similarly, there’s a strange algebra of class / economics that occur between nominees in some categories that I think is weird. I’m an independent designer, I work with a tight rotation of clients out of my home and do the best work I can. It feels a little funky to be compared to professionals who have 10-20 years more experience than I do, who can afford to employ teams of people and operate factory style studios out of the garment district. Their clients are able to pay tens of thousands more than mine can. It’s not a critique of their businesses and I don’t want pity, but our careers are incomparable. I know I should just feel honored and thankful, but I think there must be a more logical, effective and accurate way we could come together and bestow recognition on people within our community doing exceptional work.
It feels like what began as a local tradition has outgrown the scope of what one/a few people in our city who have bestowed the responsibility of organizing are capable of corralling within the scope of what they understand. In my opinion, the Glams need to be restructured and shift away from a circle jerk of people who all already know each other and take on a more public facing mode of operation.
I don’t want to suggest that the people organizing the awards are not devoting immense amounts of hard work to gift the community something special. I believe in their integrity and good intentions. But year after year, there are certain nominees who are accused of violence and discriminatory behavior-who still win an award, and benefit from the opportunities which that recognition brings. It seems wrong to me and I can’t in good conscience support.
I’m also making two dresses for two nominees, and I wish them and everyone nominated my best. It’s lovely to have your hard work recognized and celebrated.

I see you have a line of gorgeous scarves via the Jazz By Jazz site!
The scarves were a fun project! I released three scarf designs over two years, the latter two printed on silk. I love them! I wear them a lot! They can still be purchased! But they are just a small part of my experiment into running a business that is in a little moment of flux. It’s too hard to do everything by myself: marketing and production and web design and accounting and shipping and advertising, and selling at pop-ups.
I realized after two years of just barely turning a profit that for the brand to continue, I really need a business partner. If anyone reading this is a business-minded individual who doesn’t want to work on the creative side but believes in my work and wants to make money, please jump in the DMs because I think if I could just focus on what I’m good at, the brand could have been profitable!
The scarves were an attempt to see how I could outsource some of the labor and increase my inventory. I’m only one person, and there isn’t enough time and energy in the universe for me to sit around sewing dresses all day every day and turn a profit while the IRS is breathing down my neck and my dad is questioning why an item costs a certain amount and my website has a weird glitch that I don’t know how to fix and my accountant is emailing me about quarterly taxes… lol!
I ran the business for almost two years without a day job, and it was one of the most important professional experiences I think I’ll ever have. And if things could be slightly different, I’d die to get back to that place. But it was unsustainable the way I was doing it.
I stand by the scarves, though! The most recent two were composite fantasy images that I developed in multiple digital rendering programs. The first scarf is meant to look like a seagull being captured through a camera lens that has condensation on the glass,and the second is my imagination of what Atlantis might look like as a sand castle built on the Jersey Shore from a sort of vague memory of my childhood.
Anything else you want to say?
I want to take a moment to celebrate some names who I don’t think were properly credited in the Glam award nominations. First, Missleidy Rodriguez who organized numerous shoots this year that I was able to be a part of in Paper and Them Magazines, she is such a powerhouse, and should have been given the credit for best digital media producer in a category that was proposed and shot down at the Glam
Awards. And second, I want to shout out my favorite columnist in New York: Matvey Cherry is such a powerful story teller and observer/critic of New York City nightlife and culture and everyone should follow and read their work! There are so many others who lift me up and inspire me… but I felt these two needed to be spoken about!
Thanks, Jazzmint!

Check Thotyssey’s calendar for Jazzmint’s upcoming appearances, and follow her on Instagram and Twitter.

