Willy Chavarria Is the Fashion Designer of the Moment
The designer's immersive style blends exaggerated tailoring with Chicano aesthetics.
“Things are heavy right now,” Willy Chavarria tells me. It’s two weeks before his Fall/Winter 2024 runway presentation, titled “Safe From Harm,” and we’re chatting over Zoom. Dressed in a black shirt, layers of gold chain necklaces, and signature oversized aviator glasses, Chavarria is seated behind his desk. Things are surprisingly quiet at the office. This season, he’s approaching his fashion show a little differently, and the work on his collection is already finished and shipped off to Paris for sales appointments. In the weeks leading up to the show, he’s swapped the frantic energy of finishing samples for time to hone his messaging. “I would much rather worry about what kind of impact this moment is going to have on New York.”
For many designers, it’s enough to simply turn out a collection of on-trend looks every season. Chavarria is not one of those designers. ”It's not always about buying this expensive luxury thing,” he says. “Sometimes it's ‘I want to feel good about myself and I want to occupy this space in a way that makes me feel like I'm there.’ That can just be buying from someone who is selling from an authentic place.” Wearing Willy, you have arrived.
“When I started in 2016, I had my mind made up already,” he says. “If I'm going to do my own brand, I am going to do something that gives back and makes me feel fulfilled.” Raised outside of Fresno, California, to Irish-American and Mexican-American parents involved in the civil rights movement, Chavarria grew up bound by a strong sense of morality and of community. “I am from a family of farm workers, so Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta [who co-founded the United Farmworkers Association] were key leaders in our community,” says Chavarria.
His shows have been political from the start—he’s used his runways to draw attention to children detained in cages and to immigrants; has collaborated on a capsule with H.E.L.P.E.R., an anti-violence foundation in Los Angeles; and has added green tags reading ‘capitalism is heartless’ on the back of his jeans. His Spring/Summer 2024 collection, titled “New Life,” wove together sportswear and tailoring, polish and deconstruction. But most memorable were the oversized rosettes perched on the wide lapels of nipped white blazers. The designer draws inspiration from Latinidad culture, and balances glamour and a sense of destruction. Chavarria has set out to harness his fashion label as a reminder that what you wear also says something about who you are.
“If I'm going to do my own brand, I am going to do something that gives back and makes me feel fulfilled.”
Chavarria’s rural upbringing was miles removed from the fashion world. “It's just flat, acres and acres and acres of lettuce, spinach, strawberries…and the smell of chemicals, manure, and sprinklers in the hot air,” he says of his California hometown, Huron.
But the self-proclaimed outsider (“I just kind of floated around and was a little, weird child”) discovered at a young age how style influenced the groups around him. Seeing how boys in the school lunchroom dressed alike, or the way women would show up to church dressed to the nines, showed him how fashion can assist in aligning one with others. “I would dress up to fit into some of these groups. Super conscious of, Okay, now I'm dressing like this.” Admittedly, he’s never quite quit the practice. “When I go to stay with my family, I pack a different wardrobe entirely.”
You can see Chavarria’s personal sensibility bleed into his work in the way he approaches his collections with stylist Carlos Nazario. Instead of creating a streamlined head-to-toe look, Chavarria thinks about the power of each individual piece. “We do that intentionally, to break up the eye. That allows for a wider audience to connect with it.” Chavarria may be a creative, but he never forgets that he’s also running a business.
The climb to become one of America’s buzziest fashion designers may seem like the stuff of dreams. He began his career behind the scenes at brands like Joe Boxer, Ralph Lauren, and American Eagle. After launching his own label, Chavarria also stepped in as senior vice president of design at Calvin Klein, and consulted on the Yeezy Gap project. In November 2023, he was named Menswear Designer of the Year at the CFDA Awards, and was named Designer of the Year at the Latin American Fashion Awards. “I think the recognition I got was for the message behind my work and the way that I integrate humanity into my work,” he says. “That separated me from a lot of what we see going on in fashion, where it's chasing the next big moment. Everybody’s chasing everything; it’s a big kerfuffle.”
Chavarria’s dreams are bigger than what the American fashion scene can offer: taking the helm of a luxury fashion house. “I think that they need me, honestly,” he says. “It's time, and the industry at large could really use someone like me.”
"The industry at large could really use someone like me.”
In part, it’s why Chavarria has strived to find a balance in his collections. “It's such a privilege to have a $7,000 thing hanging at Bergdorf [Goodman] and still do a $29 hoodie and sell it at PacSun.” In his view, a brand can exist in both spaces, and can serve a community that’s not defined by who can afford to be a part of it.
As we speak, I ask him about the balance between running a business and staying true to his beliefs. He laughs: “Is that kind of like, how do I hate capitalism and still thrive in a capitalist society?”
For a designer who considers the political and social world around him, it’s still impossible to ignore the need for commercial success to stay afloat. Chavarria and his husband David Ramirez, the company’s CFO, handle the financial part of the business themselves. “There was a time when I was like, ‘I'm going to go work in an orphanage.’” He explains, “Ultimately, I decided. I come from no money. So I want to make money.” To Chavarria, there’s no escape from capitalism, but he sees his success as a platform to make marginalized people feel more included. “There's a way to do that and also pay the rent.”