Celebrating 30 Years of Nasty Pig, the Intersection of Fashion and Fetish
“Living in fear was exhausting. Celebrating ourselves was empowering.”
David Lauterstein likes to refer to his brand Nasty Pig as the Great American Wet Dream. “I get to wake up as a free artist every day and do something that I love. I get to run a company that is a safe space for queer people to be themselves while earning a living and getting great benefits. I get to serve the LGBTQ+ community with our products,” Lauterstein says. And all of it stemmed from a $50 investment that he and his now-husband Frederick Kearney made in 1994.
They pulled together the profits from selling "re:vision goggles" with refractive lenses to the Club Kids and began selling clothes out of their West 23rd Street apartment in New York City. In 2014, they moved into their current flagship store in Chelsea. Now, ten years since then and 30 since its founding, the brand is celebrating its milestone anniversary in tandem with Lauterstein releasing his memoir, Sodomy Gods.
I get a lot of requests to interview founders, creators, authors, and I’ll be transparent in saying I’m not always enthused by the prospect. Ultimately, they’ve got a product they’re trying to sell me on, and so often these interviews can feel more prescriptive than my preferred mode of trying to seek human connection. I made the mistake ahead of my interview with David in thinking he’d fall into the former category. Boy, was I wrong. As it turns out, Lauterstein has not just the brand and not just the story, but the kind of chutzpah you seldom get from someone 30 years into the game. I also came to revere the way he’s seamlessly threaded the needle of work, passion and activism. Above all, I came away from my time with David enthused. He’s got the credibility and experiences of a queer elder with a genuine respect and admiration for the generations that continue to come up after him. He’s knowledgeable, happy to share it and curious. He’s not at all cynical. In fact, I found him to be way more of a Charlotte than my initial perception of him as a Samantha. I love being wrong!
“Starting a brand that celebrated queer sexual identity at a time when AIDS was still killing our queer ancestors made us wildly unpopular within our own community,” Lauterstein explains.
“Had my husband or I had any formal business training, we would have never started Nasty Pig because it was such an outlandish idea. But we started the brand to reclaim our identity from AIDS, and one customer at a time, we found people who wanted the same for themselves. Living in fear was exhausting. Celebrating ourselves was empowering.”
The brand was born on the dancefloor of the original Sound Factory, an after-hours club on West 27th Street that was in operation from 1989-1995. The couple dreamed up an idea that would allow for their beleaguered community to reclaim feeling sexy and empowered as they danced all night Saturday into Sunday mornings — sometimes Sunday afternoons. “Back then,” Lauerstein remarks, “there were just so few of us that were truly reveling in our queer identity that we could fit under one roof as we danced together.”
The brand sought inspiration from the fashion giants of the time — Thierry Mugler, Jean Paul Gaultier, Alexander McQueen — as well as artists like Tom of Finland and The Hun and the pages of classic gay porn magazines like Honcho and Drummer and Inches. With these inspirations in mind, they sought to create sportswear, selling Nasty Pig T-shirts, rubber chaps, sleeveless shirts and vinyl pants. They’ve since expanded to everything from jockstraps, singlets and harnesses to jeans and jewelry.
Below, a chat with Lauterstein.
Hi David! How is your morning going?
So far so good! I came back from Fire Island last night. I’m here in the city.
Well, let me start by asking you about that: How long have you been going to Fire Island for?
I started going to Fire Island when I was four years-old, up to the Pines. That was like 1974. When I started going up as a little kid, my aunt and uncle owned a co-op. They were these incredible New York artists and they had me going out to the Pines when I was a tiny little kid.
And how old were you when you first discovered Fire Island as an adult?
That was in 1994 when I met my first boyfriend who is now my husband, Frederick Kearny. He took me out to the Pines again as an adult, and that's when I rediscovered it. But even as a kid, I always was looking at the naked guys out there but I was pretty young, so it was before I could discover any of that about myself.
That's interesting as a touch point because that's exactly 30 years ago, which is very appropriate given the conversation we're having today. I’m curious about your perspective as someone who’s been going there for three decades. I would love to hear how the island has changed — and if you’d say it’s for better or for worse.
I would say it’s changed energetically for the better. From my start at Nasty Pig, we were pretty misunderstood and pretty looked down upon out there and were considered pariahs as kind of the first brand to be claiming sexual positivity in queer identity. We felt kind of ostracized out there. One of the great changes is I think Fire Island is becoming more welcoming to a lot of people who are truly marginalized and truly have felt unwelcomed and seeing more diversity has been incredible. I think that island should be open to everyone.
That’s great! So Nasty Pig is celebrating its 30-year anniversary on October 31st, and that marks three decades of work for this LGBTQ+ fetish brand. I wanted to zoom in on the word “fetish” because I think, kind of like the word “camp,” its meaning has become diluted over time, and as an expert on this space, I wanted to get your definition of fetish and where within that you would situate fetish gear.
So, when we started out, the line was always kind of at the crossroads of fashion and fetish. That's what we've always been about: using elements of that style and mixing it up with sportswear. When we talk about it being watered down, I do think that it’s not so much that it's watered down, but rather that it’s becoming more widely accepted and it's becoming something that you know people feel more comfortable engaging in. That's what we were always about: sort of demystifying this idea of exploring your body and enjoying yourself. And you can use fashion as a means by which to express that identity, so I don't see it as being watered down; I see it as being more widely accepted. Does that make sense?
I like that perspective. So, obviously, it's hard to operate a fashion brand at all; it's especially hard to operate one for 30-plus years, especially one that has a targeted demographic such as yours. To what do you attribute the brand's longevity and continued relevance?
You know, Fred and I started this as an act of passion for our community. At its heart, Nasty Pig is really a love story, of my husband and I’s love, the love we have for our community, the love we have for fashion. This has been the authenticity of our company, and authenticity is something that never goes out of style. You know what I'm saying? People are drawn to us because of who we are and I think we've always managed to grow by sticking true to that; there's no other version of us that exists. It helped us grow because with me and Fred, and with Nasty Pig, what you see is what you get. We never try to be something we’re not.
You talked about this intersection of fashion and fetish and it’s interesting because Versace did their 1992 collection, which was inspired by fetish gear, and obviously fashion has a long history from Dior, to Galliano, to McQueen, all sort of incorporating fetish and the idea of sexuality. Are there particular instances of designers or bands that you think have done — I don't particularly want to say “fetish gear” — but have drawn upon fetish and integrated it into fashion in ways that excite you?
Absolutely! I'm going to call out the master himself.
Mugler!
Thierry was a huge inspiration because he really used fetish as a way to express the female power, and that was one of his ethos:
“Inside every woman, there's a goddess and I want to try to bring her out.”
My husband and I idolized Mr. Mugler, and then he one day became a customer of ours and started coming into the store and really started teaching us about fashion and the industry. He used fetish as a means by which to empower people, and that's how we always felt about it. His influence on us — it's what we were trying to do for the queer community and for gay men in particular; use sexual identity to empower. Say what you want about fashion, but when you put on something that makes you feel strong and sexy, it is the art form that every single person in the world chooses to participate in everyday. So fashion can be really transformative, especially when you put something on and it makes you feel more gorgeous. So I will clock Mr. Mugler morning, noon and night. The master.
Do you have any particular memories of experiences or interactions with him, whether it be when he came into the store or through the years?
Having him come into the store and teach us and tell us about the industry. Fashion can be smoke and mirrors and connecting directly with your customer, as I ran around after him taking notes about every garment that I pulled off the rack, was incredible. One time, he was going to International Mr. Leather [a conference/competition celebrating the leather, kink, fetish and BDSM communities] in Chicago and he asked us to bring garments that he had purchased. You know we don't customize stuff at Nasty Pig, but for Mugler? We brought everything he wanted to Chicago. So bringing him clothing to IML one year he went, and then having him on the last night take us in his limo to the Eagle — I was 26, and I was, like, a kid! And my husband and I having our idol driving us through downtown Chicago? I can’t even tell you what that felt like. It was one of the greatest nights of my life. It was just magic. So powerful. So I would have to say that moment.
The brand was officially incorporated on October 31st, 1994. Many of us queer people feel connected to Halloween, as it’s a time many feel they can truly be themselves and let their Nasty Pig out! Does Halloween hold special significance for you?
The fact that Nasty Pig was incorporated on Halloween was a case of pure magic. It was the day the US government stamped our incorporation papers, and at the time I saw it as a sign that the Sodomy Gods were blessing our brand! Let’s face it, Halloween is clearly a celebration rooted in paganism, so I’m not surprised that so many queer people, including myself, love it so much.
Speaking of Sodomy Gods, your new book of that title is described as “raw, provocative, and unflinchingly honest.” It depicts your coming-of-age story amidst love and cultural upheaval in the devastation of the AIDS crisis. It’s said to be brimming with “hard-won wisdom and the energy of the club scene.” Can you share some eye-openers with me that you found along your journey of writing it?
One of the eye-openers that I had during that time was the power of love. That was one of the things that I found the most important. When you go with love and you let love make your decisions for you as opposed to fear, you're always led in the right direction. You know, choosing to be with my husband when he got an HIV diagnosis, which was deadly at the time, and making the decision to stay with this man even though I was destined to bury him and he might kill me — that was a powerful choice. It was the most important decision of my life. It ended up transforming both of us. He’s still with us; he’s very fortunate to be a long-term non-progressor. That was really important and helped me come to understand myself, and that when customers come, they are using their energy and choosing you over everyone else. You know, we’re a tiny little company, so with each purchase made, your customers put food in your belly; I never lose sight of that. So powerful. We literally would take the $200 dollars we made in a day and go buy groceries. I still honor that to this day. I did a lot of reading about queer people in non-Western societies and I really came to believe that we have a purpose. Why do we keep getting made? There's got to be a biological purpose for something, and Nasty Pig has been exploring that idea for 30 years. I really want to figure out and lean into gay purpose.
I love that a lot. So in telling your own story with Sodomy Gods, I'm wondering what guiding words you can give on queer storytelling. Even with what you're talking about right now: We live these queer lives, but disseminating queer storytelling is especially important because it gives our purpose a record, and I'm wondering what sort of role you felt in wanting to write this book and tell your story and have that be woven into the broader fabric of queer storytelling.
There's a couple of things. First, something that happened over our 30 years is that the narrative about Nasty Pig got away from us. I take full responsibility. I was so busy keeping my nose down making clothing, I didn't court the press, I didn't have a PR strategy, and storytelling in long form is a great way to tell your narrative —
Can I pause you so you can elucidate what you mean by that for the readers?
I think the connection we were making with our customers is one thing, but when you don’t take the time to really disseminate your vision and your truth, it will get away from you. The public will take it from you. And that happened to us. And I take full responsibility for that. As we approach 30 years, so much of Nasty Pig is motivated by our love for queer people that it was important for me to set the record straight about who we are. And that's kind of what Sodomy Gods does. Look, I started the company when I was in my early 20s. I'm now in my mid-50s, and we have this opportunity to have some real queer generational knowledge. We can tell our stories. I think telling an authentic love story right now, is something that… there isn't a lot of love in the world, and I think it's a powerful moment. I feel a real responsibility to younger generations of queer people to not only tell them, but to offer them our experience.
When you say that the story got told for you, do you feel that the story just wasn't being told enough? Or that there was a pervasive narrative about the brand that wasn't aligned with your vision for it?
I think that when you let the public fill in the blanks for you, they're gonna fill in the blanks with their opinions. And it’s not their job to figure you out; it's your job to tell them, so that's a lot of what I think happened. And as I said, I take full responsibility for that, but that's what I think happened: We became widely misunderstood as a brand, including my husband and I as the brand’s owners.
You mention this misunderstanding, but there's also been a lot of appreciation for you over the years. You've been recognized worldwide, you've been honored at the White House, you've been featured in Forbes, among countless other successes. Most recently, you were recognized by the Ali Forney Center at their annual Oasis summer benefit for your contribution to and support of homeless LGBTQ+ youth. In a time of political and social adversity (to say the least) for queer communities today, what does this recognition mean to you?
I was never one to seek out recognition but I have to tell you, it feels amazing. Our popularity has just been in the last decade, and this level of recognition we’ve been receiving has been absolutely incredible; as you mentioned, being honored at the White House for our work and being honored by Forbes for being a pioneering queer brand. I think the Ali Forney Center award was maybe one of the greatest nights of my life, to be honored in front of a room of 1,000 people, being introduced by Joel Kim Booster, seeing Roxxxy Andrews in the audience. It wasn’t always that way, trust me.
Obviously, there was this big viral moment earlier this year with Frank Ocean and the singlet. What did that moment mean for you and what was it like? You talked earlier about the narrative being taken from you, but that's an instance of the narrative being taken but in what I imagine was a really positive way. What was that moment of seeing mainstream culture recognize Nasty Pig like?
I don’t know if you know this gentleman named Evan Ross Katz?
I’m somewhat familiar.
The day before we launched our 30th anniversary collection was just pure magic. And I can't thank you enough for doing that. Because these days, everything’s a sponsorship or an influencer moment or a paid promotion, so [Frank Ocean] choosing to post in a Nasty Pig singlet was a surprise to us, breaking the story and framing it in a way that energetically honored what our 30th anniversary truth was all about, which was telling the real story. It was a great moment for us, and I'm really grateful because you kind of just framed it as: “Here’s this queer celebrity putting himself in a queer brand,” and it was huge for us. Evan, thank you so much!
Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet! Thank you!
You have so much influence, you put it out there and it was expressed in such an organic way, and we’re an organic company and you brought a ton of extra attention that day before we launched.
Well, thank you for saying that! It’s interesting because I was just talking to a friend who works in the fashion industry, and we were talking about the fact that increasingly, the industry has become almost entirely pay-to-play, which is the idea that in order for celebrities or influential people to wear a brand, there has to be some sort of backend deal that's struck where they’re receiving some sort of payout. The side effect of that is that a lot of brands that don’t have the financing of an LVMH backing them end up being largely boxed out of contention for being spotted on influential people. What do you think about this phenomenon as someone who’s been in the fashion industry for 30 years witnessing pay-to-play become the modus operandi?
Part of it was Thierry Mugler telling us that if you, as a brand, focus on your customers and tell them stories that speak to them, they will love you for who you are. And also, the idea and look of each celebrity is so important and they have so much power. But you're right. And that’s why we’re so grateful for those moments like the Frank one. And we had a similar moment when Madonna began wearing our stuff a few years ago; she was spotted all over wearing a jacket that we made. If you do your job right and stay true to who you are, there are celebrities who want to associate with you because that's what they actually want to wear, not because you're cutting them a check.
As queer people, I think we all look to each other for community and inspiration. Who are your queer icons, past and present?
Mr. Mugler, the ultimate constructionist, is one of my icons. His designs represent a mastery of both the art and discipline of fashion. Frankie Knuckles, the Godfather of House, is another legendary queer icon who magically came into my life and blessed me with his wisdom. His influence on music from the 80s through today is beyond immense. Honey Dijon is a testament to being true to yourself and your art and letting the world catch up when they are ready — that makes her an icon in my book. Billie Eilish is the consummate artist, and when she recently came out, her art followed suit and she achieved queer icon status for me. And while she herself may not be queer, I must name Madonna. It’s hard for younger queer people to understand that not too long ago, no one even said the word “gay” unless you were hurling an insult. Madonna championed our community when we were invisible. She made us feel seen. That’s some serious mothering, as far as I’m concerned.
Thank you so much for your time! I remain a really big fan of you and the brand.
Back at you. Thank you so much for this opportunity, it means so much.