Artist and facility manager, Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis

By Katie Pelech
Photograph by Frank Di Piazza

Jason Miller sees fashion with a fly’s eyes—his faceted interpretations construct a mosaic. Clothes are a method of self-exploration. A disguise or a megaphone. A medium manipulated to his benefit or your folly. A good way to keep warm and avoid an arrest for indecent exposure. And lots of fun. His nonchalant approach ensures his style is never heavy-handed, while his artist’s eye prevents ennui. Here, we talk with a trendsetter who couldn’t care less about what’s trendy.


How long have you been interested in style? Since ’97 or ’98. It started out as a rebellious thing. I was in art school and painting, and everybody was wearing dirty, grungy clothes. I thought, “Screw that. I’m going to start wearing suits.”

Rebellion tends to phase out after a while. Why did this stick? It became more about 1950s ideals. Men back then wore a suit every day. I was trying to get into that mode.

Why’s that? There’s a term for this weird misplaced nostalgia for things you’ve never experienced: “historical nostalgia.” Even though I know being a black man back then wouldn’t have been great, there’s just something about traditional dressing up, something about “putting your best foot forward,” that I find appealing.

How do others react to that? There’s definitely a difference in the way I’m treated when I’m wearing a suit. I get more respect. The weird thing is that men in the business world, when I encounter them and I’m dressed nice, I’m usually dressed nicer than they are, so there’s a little bit of animosity there. I don’t know if it comes from that or if they can sense that I’m not in their social class.

How would people see that? It’s in the way you present yourself, I guess. That’s why you’ve got to change it up, so they can’t tell—keep people guessing.

What role does your clothing play in your life? There is still this quest for identity. I have so many diverse groups of friends. I’ve got my punk-rock friends, I’ve got museum friends, I’ve got artsy friends, I’ve got video-game friends and comic book–nerd friends, so I’m literally switching hats.

Roughly how many hats do you have, by the way? About 25.

Where do you shop? I don’t shop very often, actually. I worked at a fine men’s clothier in Kansas City, PinStripes. That’s where I got the bulk of my suits.

Many men seem intimidated by formalwear. Why do you think that is? Men think there’s something to fashion that they don’t know, and that’s why they don’t concern themselves with it. This drove me nuts when I worked at the clothing store. Guys would come in, pick out clothes and then say, “Well, my wife has to approve it,” and I’m, like, “Why? Is your wife going to be wearing it? You are. Do you like it?”