A Look at Erica Weiner’s Résumé
Between attending Vassar and starting her own jewelry business, Erica Weiner worked damn hard, doing the kind of jobs that required ingenuity—and a knack for dealing with children and very small celebrities. These are the gigs that eventually led her to her namesake line, which she launched from her kitchen table.
Disillusioned camp counselor
Costume-creator and leotard-repairer for the stage
“At the end of camp, my friend said, ‘Someone just dropped out of the wardrobe spot on a national tour that leaves like tomorrow. Can you go?’ I kind of knew about dance costuming, and I made my own clothes. So I had a phone interview from the camp telephone in the mess hall—with all the kids. I totally lied my way through it. I got the job, and I did it for two years, for shows like Fosse. We went around on this tour bus—60 dancers, 10 crew members, and 4 semis. I got good at fixing things and jerry-rigging stuff. If we were in Reno or Nebraska and a pair of earrings broke, I’d have to figure out how to get the goddamn parts in one day.”
Erica in her New York studio with her dog Bunny.
“I did a couple of years of unpaid fashion internships. I lived in my boyfriend’s apartment for free, and I was on food stamps for a year and a half—I was so poor. Eventually, I broke into the fashion world a little bit because I was good at getting things done without panicking. Somehow people heard that I could do stuff for fashion shows at the very last minute, so I got calls where people would say, ‘We need a whole dress by tomorrow’ or, ‘We need all of these dresses to go from cocktail-length to tea-length.’ I’d somehow do it, and I’d make what felt like a lot of money. It wasn’t very good for me, and I didn’t sleep a lot.”
Do-everything girl for a buzzy fashion line
“At Imitation of Christ, I did the line sheets, communicated with the buyers, made dresses, cast models, designed shoes, talked to factories, sketched, visited the factories in Midtown—a lot of work. I had some glamorous moments there, though. Mary-Kate Olsen was around a lot. I would do fittings and have to tailor dresses to her tiny, tiny body. It’d be her and me in a bathroom—her completely naked, me with a bunch of safety pins. I would think, ‘I’ve got to text my friends because this situation is so funny.’”