
“But I feel like we have so much integrity that like, if we’re gonna do something, we are really going to think about how we can make it really cool and how we can make it beautiful.” “It was a good opportunity for us because we always need people to be sponsoring us, because we're such an independent business and it's still tough for us,” she explains. Even when she launched an NFT a few weeks ago, it was done with her own MNZ-ish spin, with a rendering of the Instagram famous all-white apartment she sublets in Noho. True, the business is much larger-her own brand sells on Ssense and FarFetch, and she opened a store in Paris earlier this year-but there remains something resolutely underground about the enterprise. What’s intriguing about Zadeh’s place in this orbit, though, is that while Glossier and Reformation have scaled up and taken their ideas national, even global, Zadeh’s brand remains, 14 years after the store opened, strikingly close to its origins. Her aesthetic is so potent that her store’s e-commerce imagery was the subject of an academic paper in 2019 by Rosie Findlay, cited as an example of what Findlay called “aspirational realness.” Brands like MNZ, Glossier, and Reformation, Findlay argued, cultivate a sense of “unstudied cool” with imperfect photography, casual posing, and no makeup-makeup in order “to foster intimacy and promote a postfeminist subjectivity based on consumption.” And I don’t skimp on that.” She doesn’t care about what feels digestible or relatable “it’s more just feeling that you’re sincere with it.” “I do have the highest standards of beauty,” Nassir Zadeh says. “She is like the wind embodied,” one fashion editor in her early thirties recently rhapsodized to me. It’s difficult to explain what her brand, which launched as an airy multi-designer store on Norfolk and Rivington in 2008, means to a certain subset of women who are fanatical about her world and clothes. Leaving something to the imagination is the MNZ remit. It was more about being comfortable.” The dress is clingy, in other words, but leaves something to the imagination.

So she’s wearing her pajamas? “This wasn’t meant to be me being stylish. “I wear it to bed,” she says of the dress.

#Prada fanny pack skin
Her long slightly curly hair tumbles down her back and her skin glows, and she’s wearing perspex wedge heels of her own design and a Prada fanny pack looped around a white racerback tank dress. A T-shirt is shown on a girl lounging in the stairs of a basement bar bathroom.Įven the way that Nassir Zadeh arrives at a restaurant, such as when she streams into Balthazar with a beatific smile on a recent weekday morning, has a compellingly ineffable feel. A pair of sandals is pictured on a white paper shopping bag seemingly discarded on the street.

A woman modeling a white miniskirt displays its back not through a rote, commercially-minded pose from behind, but by twisting around like she’s in the middle of undressing at the city pool, tenderly pulling up her shirt. On her website, where she sells the clothing line she launched in 2012 alongside brands like Telfar, Jacquemus, and Cristaseya, product imagery is styled with the kind of errant poetry that city living creates. Maryam Nassir Zadeh has a way of making everything look strangely beautiful: visible nipples, paper bags, untidy bedrooms.
