My personal style signifiers are my white hair and wearing denim on denim. I first started getting grey hair when I was 12, then I started dyeing it as a teenager, and by 19 it looked cool enough. As for denim: I don’t look good in fashion. I don’t like adventurous style or modern silhouettes. A modern idea? Horrible on me. But I realised a few years ago that if I put denim on denim together, it’s a great substitute for being stylish or wearing fashion. And I love denim. It’s great on an American body, which I have.

The last thing I bought and loved was a black leather ’70s de Sede couch from Merit in LA. It’s a long road with me and couches. I have two in storage… it’s complicated. I was doing a job in LA and was driving home afterwards when I saw the store. I walked in and I saw this couch, which basically cost the fee of the job, and I was like, this is it. It’s just the right couch for once in my life, because it looks good and it’s comfortable. This is a new thing for me, comfort on a couch. My old couch was this giant wraparound: I used to have lots of parties, but now I’m a lot calmer, and I didn’t love the couch without the parties, you know? I’ve realised that I like something that’s great for company and equally great alone, that’s great for talking on the phone, scrolling Instagram, making out. It’s so hard to find the right couch, and we are one now. It’s actually kind of life-changing.
My favourite location is Paris. The Centre Pompidou is my favourite building. I look at it and I think, “Paris is the best, and this is the best thing here.”

The best souvenir I’ve brought home is a beautiful wooden lacquered box from a store in Harajuku. It’s just so stunning, like a small pyramid. What I also really like is that it is a place for my passport, so I always know where it is. And you know what? That’s luxury, baby.
I’ve been the editor-in-chief of Interview for three years. Before that, I was creative director for three years. I didn’t imagine it beforehand because I’d always been such a free agent. When I was interviewing people to become the next editor-in-chief, people were telling me, you should really be the editor-in-chief. And I thought, no way, I can’t do that. But then when I started interviewing people, I was like, no, you’re right. You’re the editor-in-chief. This is the time to do it. A life-changing realisation like that is good. Just pay attention to it when it happens.

The book that changed everything for me is The Andy Warhol Diaries. I still remember being in my bed as a 13-year-old, and reading them and being like: I get it. I get that there’s nothing wrong with being gay. I’m cool. Like, I’m being harassed at school for being gay and being bullied but, oh, I’m fab. I’m so going into this world of culture and celebrity and fashion and excitement, and all these people that are torturing me in middle school are just, like, assholes that are just gonna have children and be basic. The fact that I ended up getting to be the editor of the magazine I’m reading about as a teenager – it would be wrong of me to ever forget that.

The best book I’ve read recently is Cher’s autobiography. I’m only on page 15, but I have a really good feeling about it. I like Cher very, very much. I have not worked with her yet. Cher, please say yes to us some day – I would love to have you on the cover of Interview magazine [Cher, if you are reading this, please say yes to HTSI first].
I am listening to the Nymphet Alumni podcast, and I like it. I don’t listen to podcasts often, because I don’t understand where and when someone would listen to them in New York City. But this is three fun gals talking about culture and stuff, and I dig it.

My style icons are Richard Gere in the ’90s and Dennis Quaid in The Parent Trap. That is how I want to dress. Adult men in ’90s Hollywood just looked so great. I want their Armani suits and their leather jackets – very classic. It’s everything that fashion is not giving now, and it’s what I like: handsome, masculine men’s clothes that do something. There’s still this bit of old Hollywood to it, but it’s also contemporary, not stuffy at all.

The best gift I’ve given recently was a giant mug to my boss, for Christmas, with “LIBERAL TEARS” written on the side. It’s the perfect gift for these trying times.

And the best gift I’ve received recently is a gigantic resin vase designed by Rich Aybar, my former assistant. It’s a beautiful amber – the light goes through it wonderfully. A flower is definitely going in there.
On my Instagram “For You” page you’ll find hairy, muscular men dancing, and I truly don’t know why. It’s actually pretty insulting! When I click through and scroll down there’s also a lot of interesting references, but honestly, it’s insane. I don’t know why Zuckerberg is doing this to me.

I have a collection of furniture and objets from my favourite dealer, Galerie Hervouet on Rue de l’Université in Paris. I just like Jacques Hervouet’s extreme ’70s French sensibility. I remember, when I started to work in Paris in the 2000s, I used to stare through the windows and say: some day I’m gonna shop here. Then when I started making some real Rihanna money [Ottenberg was her stylist from 2011-18], I bought some lamps. Since then I’ve bought dining chairs, sculptures, and had two rugs designed by him for my apartment. I have spent an insane amount of money there, and actually I am not a rich man.
The best way to spend $20 is on a really good sandwich. If I was being annoying, I would say the Mel – my signature bagel – at Baz Bagels on Grand Street in Little Italy, which is a turkey Reuben on a bagel. But any sandwich that will make you happy.

In my fridge, you will always find a Brita water-filter jug, maybe some sort of lettuce and pickle and a carrot, and some bottles of champagne. Then mustard, mayonnaise, hot sauce. Those are the only things you can really count on.
An indulgence I would never forgo is good produce, good sheets, good sex. I’m a sugar addict, a cookie addict and I’m trying to just not do it. I haven’t eaten ice-cream in two years and that’s not because I’m particularly strong or disciplined, it’s because I am an ice-cream addict, and I’m like, babe, you can’t be this fat.

The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe is a pair of vintage Frye boots on eBay. That’s my big style evolution of the past year. I ran into someone I know with great style in a lobby, and he was wearing them, and it changed my life. There’s a really amazing picture of Robert Redford out there, and he’s wearing this exact boot, with some dark jeans and a black turtleneck, drinking out of a very classic teacup. That’s the forever look. The style things that work well in your 20s or 30s are not going to work in your 40s, and I’m certainly sure that more won’t work in my 50s and 60s. One thing that does not work for me in my 40s are holes in my jeans. As someone that wears denim all the time, this is a rule I cannot ignore. Young Mel Ottenberg? Busted crotch, busted knees, busted ass. The whole thing was like, come and get it. But: no more.
The beauty or grooming staple I’m never without is Mitchum unscented deodorant. I just think it’s the right thing. Also: blue shampoo for my grey hair to keep the yellow out. Especially in Europe, because the water is some type of way.

My personal gurus are my hairstylist, Yosuke at Hairppy. My trainer, Travis Hawkins. My masseur is named Richard DeVito and he’s incredible: I don’t go to him for relaxing massages, I go to him for exorcisms – and he will perform them. My dermatologist is Dr Francesca Fusco. My acupuncturist is Richard Baran. My nutritionist, if I was ever going to go to one, is Dr Passler. But then the most important one is Shawn Joswick, my jeans guru. I wouldn’t exist as Mel Ottenberg without Shawn. I’ve currently got 10 pairs of jeans in rotation. Usually it’s more like four, but right now it’s 10 in slower rotation, which is better – I’m not overworking them. When I bust them, Shawn does whatever secret mystical denim doctor thing he does that will fix them and make them presentable again.
You’d be shocked by how rarely I’m on a website or an interesting app. I’m not vouching for any app today.
I believe in life after death. I think that my apartment is slightly haunted. I also love to talk to a psychic every once in a while: why not? I ran into a man last night that I have some explosive chemistry with, a man from my past. A psychic told him that we have been involved in many different lifetimes, and I do weirdly believe it, because there’s something otherworldly about this. Have I revisited this chemistry in this lifetime? Oh, I’ve done it.

An object I would never part with is my Ettore Sottsass Murmansk fruit bowl. My friend [the late interior designer] Jim Walrod had always said it was the only thing that would work on my dining table, and I never bought it because it was too extravagant. But then when he died, I was like, OK, I have to take that advice. I love it. It’s just like this evil, hardcore bowl…

The thing I couldn’t do without is… I want to say my very specific New Balance jogging sneakers, but I hate that. Let’s say my team at Interview: they are great. As for the sneakers – I had plantar fasciitis, a horribly debilitating foot thing that feels like you’re going to end up in a wheelchair because it’s so painful to touch the ground. It is the worst thing ever. But then I went to this jogging store in Manhattan, and they analysed how I jog and were like: you’re wearing the wrong sneakers to go jogging, and this New Balance is designed for your gait. And I’ve never had this agonising syndrome ever again. But I can live without jogging, right? More importantly, I can’t live without my team.
The place that means a lot to me is Kīlauea in Hawaii: a beautiful, majestic, volcanic region that is incredible for hiking. A friend told me to go, and I loved it so much, I went again last year. It’s really amazing.
I always wanted to work in fashion. I wanted to be a designer, until I graduated from college and started working for a fashion designer. And I thought, I hate production. I want to do something that’s fast, where you work with different people and you’re not working on the same collection for six months. Then when I discovered styling sort of by a fluke, I was like: I’m a stylist, right? But I guess my alternative dream would be to design very classic everyday clothes like Gap, because I have a passion for really simple American design, and I like T-shirts and jeans and preppy shirting and stuff. I’d love to dress America in an alternate reality.

I’ve recently rediscovered the joy of listening to tapes. There was this store called Smylonylon on Lafayette Street in the ’90s that sold deadstock clothes from the ’70s, and they would make mixtapes that were really amazing. I just listened to them again and they’re so good. I recently interviewed the guy who made them, and we’re going to post a link to all of them because he restored them and put them on Bandcamp.
My favourite room in my house is my bedroom. I love it very much. It’s a pretty small bedroom. It’s built-in, it’s all grey, the walls are all graphite. It’s just really comfortable. I like being there – I watch a lot of movies on my big TV. It feels like a nice controlled atmosphere.

A way to make me laugh is just by being really funny and sassy and bold. My team at Interview really makes me laugh a lot, and so many friends of mine make me laugh a lot too. I feel like I need that as much as I can have.
The best bit of advice I ever received was: you’ve got this. Someone recently said it to me and I was like, yeah. You’re going to do a good job. You think it’s impossible, but you’ve got this. Another is: never take anything personally during Fashion Week.