Patti Harrison Enters the Surreal World of Loewe
Chatting with actress and comedian Patti Harrison is dangerous: you get so lost in what she’s saying that before you know it, nearly two hours have passed and you’re late for your dinner plans. Her stiletto-sharp sense of humor and absurdist perception of the world is undercut by a humility and kindness that can only be bred in small-town America. She’s at once grounded and absolutely far-out, making a perfect match for Loewe’s surreal fall/winter 2022 collection.
When we speak over the phone, she’s in her current, reluctant hometown of Los Angeles, still buzzing from a career-pushing trip across the pond. Known for her gleefully vulgar online presence and scene-stealing roles in TV and film, she has now thrust herself back into live performance. As in tune with the zeitgeist as she is, Harrison is careful not to get too swept up in the social media-driven “aesthetic” demanded of performers today. She values fashion, but has intentionally pushed herself into a pared-down sartorial realm for the stage, with a radical disregard for what it will look like on social media. Loewe meets her absurdism head-on with surprising silhouettes and themes, humorous object work, and a hint of something sinister. Just like Harrison.
Brynn Wallner: How is it being back in LA?
Patti Harrison: I think I’m a little glazed over. I would love to live somewhere else. I put in some good time here, but now I’m absolutely ready to go anywhere else on earth.
BW: You were away for quite some time, right?
PH: I did a couple of stand-up shows for a festival in Dublin, Ireland. Then I did a week of shows in London, followed by a festival in Edinburgh, Scotland. It was probably one of the best experiences I’ve ever had, as far as stand up and live performance goes. It was very hard. I learned a lot.
BW: How so?
PH: Doing an hour-long show every night in front of an audience… it was really up in the air what kind of audience I was going to get. There were nights when I was in a great mood, really on it — and the audience just wasn’t having it. I was like, okay, I can try and bend a little bit to see if I can reach them. It was practice in real-time, allowing myself to be flexible enough to know that sometimes there’s nothing you can do to get an audience on your side, but not letting that get in the way of me trying hard to give a good show. It was a very humbling experience.
BW: What are you working on currently?
PH: I’ve been focused on live shows. I felt deflated during lockdown, really uninspired and depressed. Getting back into performing has felt good. I’m going to do a month of shows in London, starting in January. It may sound antithetical to say this, but performing live seems to remove the egocentric part of the practice. The way social media has been integrated into the culture and the careers of comedians… it feels like you absolutely have to be engaging in it. Performing live removes the social media from it. Each show is dependent on what’s between you and the audience.
BW: Life was simpler before social media. How did you dress back then?
PH: My style was what I’d describe as… scene adjacent. I was never brave enough to dye my hair or anything, and this was pre-transition. Feminine, emo teen boy. I had a lot of band tees. I loved this one shirt because the fabric was coarse enough to cover the details of my man boobs. I had these plaid linen cargo shorts that I’d wear a lot. I was also a poser and wore a lot of skate stuff, like super wide skate shoes. If I had access to a time machine, I’d go back and tell myself I’m a fake poser, or I’d go back and teach myself how to skate.
BW: What are you wearing now?
PH: You’re going to think I’m lying, but right now I’m literally wearing a band shirt and these horrible plaid men’s boxers that are nearly the same color as the shorts I wore as a teenager.
BW: So, not much has changed…
PH: I still like wearing band tees. I often feel morally conflicted about my looks, trying to decipher if I’m wearing them for social media or for me. Social media has, in a way, not diluted personal style, but has diluted the value of it. Aesthetics spread so quickly online.
BW: How do you dress for the stage?
PH: I’ve gotten more subtle there. I used to put together these looks for performance, to deliver an ambiance with my clothing. But I’m trying to dial it back. Something I’ve been trying out lately is wearing just jeans and a T-shirt. I know that sounds stupid because a lot of comics do that. But there was a moment when I was trying to be in head-to-toe vintage designer, pulling looks that I wouldn’t feel comfortable in. It’s always evolving. There are things that I’ll still wear on stage that I’d never wear in public because they’re too out there and kooky. But that’s the fun part about live performance – you can be a distorted, amplified version of yourself.
BW: Let’s talk about the Loewe fall/winter ‘22 collection. There’s a difference between good surreal (like these pieces) and bad surreal (the entertainment industry, at times). How do you navigate between the two?
PH: Everything feels so surreal right now because we are in a hyper-information age. We don’t have time to process anything before the next devastating blow hits. Even positive things… it gets hard to enjoy nice moments because our brains have been slowly melted down and reprogrammed to want quick, instant dopamine bumps. I do feel like the surreal-ness of art is absolutely necessary for any sort of escape. Art can help you reboot and reorganize and metabolize what you’re seeing, allowing you to take a break from our current time and imagine anything else.
BW: Do you feel that way about this Loewe collection?
PH: I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s engaging art. It inspires ideas and gets you to question what you’re looking at. You look at a Loewe dress and you’re like oh, cool. But then you look back at it and realize that it’s a woman’s distorted body and she has a claw. Or the balloons. At first glance, it seems as though you’re looking at something ordinary, but you look closer and see the humor in it. Or sometimes it’s menacing, which I think is rad.
BW: How do the clothes make you feel when you wear them?
PH: Everything feels really really squishy. Some of the heels are strappy and they look like they have little razor blades in them, but when you put them on, they’re so squishy. That attention to detail feels very much like art to me.
BW: Where do you go when you need an escape from your very public-facing life and career?
PH: I try to lean into quality time with people in person. Again, saw off my head for saying this, but I nourish myself by being present with my friends and my family, by not taking that for granted, and by avoiding things that serve my ego or my presentation. When I’m on social media, I’m doing things to control the way people perceive me. But I’m trying to get to a point where it’s just a platform for plugging my live shows.
BW: Any advice for kids from small-town America trying to break into the business?
PH: Being from a small town, I felt I had to move to New York or LA to be in one of these big epicenters of culture. And when I moved there, I met all of these people born and raised in the city, who came from money and had family in the entertainment industry. I felt this need to shit on myself and acknowledge how much it sucked that I was from Ohio, to be self-deprecating.
But if there’s something I can be proud of, it’s that I’ve worked really hard. Starting from literally scratch, you have stories that these nepotism babies wish they had. This might sound so corny, but it’s special to have your own story. In the beginning, I was a little embarrassed by where I came from, and I felt like I had to be more city. But my quality of life improved when I accepted myself for what I am.
