In her bedroom, studded belts, scraps of black lace, and a pair of headphones drape loosely over the bed frame, shifting softly in the breeze of an early-April morning in Brooklyn. To the left of the bed, a minidress cut from plush sweatshirt fleece adorns a dress form, an antique marching-band hat perched atop its neck. The hat, designer Paige Tann tells me, came from an old vintage collector in New Jersey who gave it to her for free, surprised she had any interest in it at all. The original owner’s name remains etched into the lining — marks of a long-ago stranger.
Bedroom and design studio, personal space and creative site, Tann really sees no distinction between the two. Though a lack of separation between private and professional space may trouble some, to Tann, it’s the reason she and her brand MisMister have persisted. Growing up in Montclair, New Jersey, the 22-year-old spent school days journeying to Manhattan as a teen, and by the time she received her associate’s degree from the Fashion Institute of Technology, in 2024, she already had nearly a decade’s worth of industry experience under her (probably vintage, probably studded) belt.
As of late, much of Tann’s time has been dedicated to petticoats, capri pants, and the aforementioned mini “sweatdress” — all for her spring collection, released on May 2. Working, living, and moving in the same space has allowed her to cultivate the world of MisMister, a world in which sailors, Gilded Age girls, and runaway princesses are one and the same. Below, Teen Vogue sat down with Tann to discuss her artful childhood, love for sewing, and melding fashions old and new.
Paige Tann: From a young age, I was interested in fine arts. My father was an artist who tried out every medium — I still have some of his cutters, markers, and patterns. I definitely was the classic “can’t speak but will dress crazy” kid, and sewing [became] a way to articulate how I was feeling without any words. My parents sent me to one sewing class in sixth grade and I absolutely fell in love. In seventh grade, I was blessed to get a sewing machine, and the rest was history.
In middle school, I started skipping class to take the train to the city and soak up whatever I could, whether it was wandering into galleries, luxury stores, thrifting — seeing if I could get any opportunity. And funny enough, a lot of things did fall into my lap. I’d meet people on the street who would tell me, “Oh, I actually do the costumes for this Broadway show. Do you want to come see my studio?” I had so many people give me their card, their info, tell me this, that. In ninth grade, I got the opportunity to intern at a bridal showroom, and kind of fudged it a little bit and lied about my age. I just knew that this is what I was going to dedicate my life to.
PT: Their openness and support helped me recognize that this career didn’t have to be some fantastical dream, this is reality. And my proximity to the Garment District really, really helped. There’s a photo of me in Mood in middle school, where I’m next to a roll of fabric that’s taller than me. I was really serious [about it], asking, “Okay, how many yards of fabric am I getting?”
PT: MisMister came about when I was talking to my friend [about] wanting to release a fall capsule. [The name] came pretty naturally, as I like to incorporate details that oppose each other in a lot of my designs — like a men’s military uniform mixed with a woman’s bustier. It seemed appropriate.
Our Denim Sailor Set was the very first thing we released. Then, once we established ourselves as MisMister, we released the Happily Never After Capsule I in October, for fall, and now we’re working on part two for spring, Happily Never After Capsule II…. As of now, MisMister consists of myself, my design intern Oliver Grenz, and our seamstresses at the Brooklyn sample room.
PT: It’s definitely one cohesive collection, however, the fall capsule used heavier fabrics and denim; it was a bit more structured. In a fashion film we created [for the spring capsule] with director Haley Spranger, we describe it as “a spring awakening.” A girl walks into this fantastical greenhouse bedroom [wearing] the old collection, fully buttoned-up in our jacket, and underneath she wears items from spring. The girls already in the room kind of corrupt her and give her a makeover. In the beginning she’s very shy, but by the end of the video, she walks back into the world in her new look.
I want to create a new little world and give people a bit of a reprieve from everything that’s going on in ours right now. For me, fashion has always been a safe space to experiment, and that’s why I get so happy when I see people in my clothes. Because, at the end of the day, it’s about helping people feel more at home in their own skin.
PT: My favorite thing is to put a rugged textile with a soft silhouette, pair lace with studs or make a high-neck, button-up completely sheer. The Happily Never After Capsule II is based on a runaway princess who abandons the prim-and-proper life in the tower. Her petticoats become shorter, her blouse sheer and revealing. The hemline of her little evening gown is now up to her thigh. It’s a transformation.
The tagline for the brand is “whimsical, yet wearable,” and “womenswear with a boyish charm.” I think the pieces I’ve created so far illustrate the combining of these two elements. MisMister is about existing in two worlds at the same time, harmonizing masculine and feminine elements into a piece.
PT: I love a little bit of everything for sure. Vintage-inspired, typically, with more modern fabrics or flare, something that makes it more sturdy. I love a little frilly skirt made out of raw denim. My [spring capsule] petticoat is actually made out of thermal fabric and the netting underneath is super stiff and durable.
PT: The bolero. I think it’s something I’m going to wear every day. We’re also making a unisex long sleeve [and] are hoping to shoot it on a guy and a girl. With my original Denim Sailor Set, we shot it on both and had so much fun styling both looks. I want to move in a more genderless direction.
PT: We pattern sample and design everything in-house, a.k.a., my apartment, and then we bring it to the sample room. When I make the sketch, I create a technical flat, then I either drape it on that form or I pattern make it; we make a couple muslins, then once I feel comfortable, we make it in fashion fabric. I bring that sew-by-sample to the factory for an appraisal, along with the pattern, and then I say a prayer that I’ll be able to afford to produce it.
PT: A musical soundtrack, a little Phantom of the Opera. It just makes things interesting and dramatic. Obviously, I’ve never met anyone who’s a designer who isn’t dramatic. Theater translates into the work that I do. It’s very emotional. It's very over-the-top, and with sewing, the stress is life or death.
PT: A lot of my customers have sent me photos of them wearing them out, and it makes me want to cry. I had one boyfriend reach out to me — he was like, “My girlfriend loves your brand. I really want to get her a piece. Will it come in time for her birthday?” And I was like, “Of course it will.” It arrived for her birthday dinner.
On the scale I’m at right now, I won’t be able to have that connection forever. But I do want to keep it very intimate because that’s what keeps me going. When it’s 3 a.m. and I’m still sewing and want to be done, I think of personal moments like that and [feel] so lucky.
PT: It’s very important to me to stay made in New York, in an environment I can actually go in person to see. I want to keep producing in small batches so I know the sewer who’s actually making this. The sample room I’m using now is smaller than the one I [first] used in the Garment District, but it’s an open, clean space.
I was talking to a factory in Portugal, but I’m not ready to produce in the hundreds yet. I’m not sure if I ever will be, but that’s to be continued. I want to scale the brand, be able to fulfill all my orders, and be stocked in multiple locations; however, at the end of the day, when I think about my pieces, half of the magic is how specialized they are. A lot of details cannot really be produced on such a big scale. With the factory I work with now, the owner, Colby, makes exceptions and he’s like, “For 15 pieces, we can make it work.”
My last capsule, I could not keep up with the demand, especially for the Denim Sailor Skirt. I just had to start saying no, and I marked everything as sold out in January. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was sewing orders myself after I sold out of the stock that we had, and eventually I realized it was not sustainable. I can’t just be sewing morning 'til night every single day — then I wouldn’t be able to design.
PT: Now I think, How do I keep all of the integrity of the design but make the details replicatable? When I’m designing for a capsule, I’m designing for a capsule. When I’m sketching something whimsical, I incorporate those details into the capsules.
PT: The in-home studio is a blessing and a curse, because it dissolves that separation of life and work. If I’m about to go to sleep and an idea comes to my head, I can get my sketch pads, look at the fabric, go to sleep. If I was working on something the night before, I could just wake up and not have to look presentable. Sometimes I’ll go [back] into bed, then I wake up, make breakfast, have a coffee. A lot of times I will have a faux-morning where I’m not doing anything but finishing that thought I had.
My social life and my work life are so intertwined that it couldn’t be any other way. Honestly, I can’t remember the last day I didn’t work on MisMister in some capacity. Even if I’m not having the whole day in the studio, I’m doing something for the brand. My life is the brand.
PT: It’s just given me more options for what I can wear, because growing up, I always loved pairing the tutu with the denim jacket, [and now] I love having an eyebrow piercing and flowy blonde hair. Now I just have a bigger wardrobe.
PT: Whimsical, “Angel’s Song” by Melanie Martinez, and your parent’s attic.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
