Design Advice for Real Life: Architectural Digest’s Sydney Gore on the Evolution of Her Writing and Seeing a Vision Through
Sydney by Landyn Pan.
By Patrick Dimond
Sydney Gore is a writer, editor, and journalist based in New York City. Her work has been published at The New York Times, Vogue, Wall Street Journal, The Cut, W Magazine, Teen Vogue, MTV, Rolling Stone, The FADER, and more. She currently works as a Digital Design Editor at Architectural Digest where she brings a fresh perspective to the table through dynamic stories that are shifting the culture as seen in her new column Rent Free. In her interview with Pat Dimond, Sydney talks about finding her beat in a shifting media landscape and the cumulative experiences that inform her work, advising those just starting their careers to put yourself out there.
PD: Tell me about your foundational years. Where did you grow up, and what did you like to do as a kid?
SG: I grew up in South Jersey, which was a very typical suburban experience; the main attraction in my hometown was the local mall. I was a creative kid that was always involved in a roster of activities—ballet, tap, tennis, basketball, painting, Girl Scouts. From a young age, I was super interested in storytelling and began writing and illustrating my own tales. When my head wasn’t buried in a book, I could usually be found on the computer typing a novel that would never see the light of day. As I got older, I became involved with the school newspaper, but my original plan wasn’t to become a journalist. Believe it or not, I assumed I would be an English major, but my ambitions ultimately steered my career path in a different direction. Also, the movie Almost Famous totally changed my life!
I was lucky to have my first editorial internship at Billboard in 2013 on the web team, which would serve as a pivotal moment during the early stages of my professional development. At the time, so many publications didn’t understand the digital media landscape, so bringing in younger talent was a no-brainer. However, I actually didn't want to write for the website because my dream was to work on the magazine. But after about a month passed, I realized that I was getting way more opportunities and experiences compared to interns in other departments—by the end of the summer, I had so many bylines. Back then, writers that worked in print and digital were called hybrid journalists, so I had a bit of a flex on most of my classmates when I returned to campus the next semester [laughs].
Public atrium in NYC at 60 Wall Street, 2022. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
"Joy Revolution," an installation celebrating the work of Niki de Saint Phalle at Salon 94, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
Jenny Holzer's 'Truisms' on display at MASS MoCA, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
How did you navigate your post-grad journey?
After I graduated from American University in 2015, I landed an editorial fellowship at The FADER, which was an incredible experience. I worked with one of the best editorial teams of all time—Naomi Zeichner was the editor-in-chief, and most of the editorial staff during her reign were people of color. I also did a brief stint at Refinery29 in the talent relations department, which was random, but I learned a lot about the influencer landscape before it evolved into what we know it as today.
During my last semester of college, I interned at NYLON, and eventually, there was an opening on the team for a digital editorial assistant; I worked there for almost two years and was exposed to a little bit of everything. Even though I came into it with the intent of being on the music beat, there were so many opportunities to write about other topics, which made me realize how much I enjoyed covering culture, art, and design. After that, I was recruited by MTV to join the social team for the TRL reboot, but would still freelance on the side for publications like Paper (RIP) and V Magazine. From there, I accepted a position at Highsnobiety and worked my way up to features editor. By then, I had established an interest in telling dynamic stories that shift the culture. Then the pandemic happened, I got laid off from Highsnobiety, and was basically like, “Okay, now what?”
I think the, “Now what?!” moment is one that many of us have sooner or later in our careers.
I applied for so many jobs, and the interviews were going nowhere, and freelancing suddenly became extremely competitive. At the peak of the media industry’s racial reckoning, I had this moment of clarity that I should be using this time of so much uncertainty to focus on stories that sparked my curiosity on a deeper level. Why not throw stuff to the wall and see what sticks? The story that I did about mushrooms stemmed from me seeing everyone on Instagram with Murano mushroom lamps and wondering why it was a thing. I felt like it was time to look around and be discerning about the objects we surround ourselves with. So, I pitched this idea to an editor at The Strategist, she loved it, and that piece ended up being a huge hit. From there, I started reporting on other things I was noticing within the design space, whether it was the wiggle trend or cat trees, for the New York Times and Vogue, which was so validating.
Eventually, AD reached out, and I initially thought they wanted to talk about an assignment, but it turned into an informational interview that I was honestly not prepared for [laughs]. The position they were looking to fill was associated with Clever, and as someone who doesn’t come from a traditional design background, I felt more connected to that vertical because I’m essentially the target reader. Also, everyone that I interviewed loved @spoiledg00ds, a design account that I randomly made for fun as an outlet during the pandemic and never ever thought would play a role in getting me a job—the lesson here is that you never know who’s watching.
Do you feel like you've hit your stride with talking about the built environment or design, or do you still feel like there's an itch you want to scratch that's back in that music world?
Honestly, no. I can still touch on music in the work that I’m doing now, just from a different angle. I’ve always been passionate about human interest stories, and it’s the coolest thing when you can talk to someone about their house and get a fantastic personal narrative out of it. My first home tour for AD was with Brandon Flowers from The Killers, which has been one of my favorite bands since middle school, so it felt like I was destined to tell that story. The experiences I’ve cultivated from working at other publications prepared me for that assignment, and it was amazing to see all the fan reactions after it was published. To me, the most valuable asset is coming to the table with a different perspective. I love the view from where I’m currently at, I don’t ever want to go back.
“I’ve always been passionate about human interest stories, and it’s the coolest thing when you can talk to someone about their house and get a fantastic personal narrative out of it.”
The culture piece fascinates me. I think that students in architecture school are so embedded in archi-speak, that I think they forget what's culturally relevant. When designing spaces, I wasn't thinking about a cultural overlay; I was thinking about how light would hit certain materials at different times of the day, which in retrospect, is naive. When you come to the table, versed in what's culturally relevant, you bring such a fresh perspective, which is why I love Clever because it's human and engaging.
I could go on and on about it.
You didn't study design per se, but you have a rigorous, real-world education in it. You've been surrounded by notable designers, and you have covered stories with pedigreed designers. What have you learned from this exposure?
AD feels like being in graduate school. All of this has been a learning curve, and that’s the best part of my job. I am forever changed by the genuine connections I’ve made with the designers like Justina Blakeney, Brigette Romanek, Tiffany Howell, and Sarah Ellison, to name a few. While I didn’t come from this world, that doesn’t mean I don’t have the authority to speak about what’s going on in it. I’m very interested in cultural trends and, ultimately, interrogating the why. That’s important to me. We’re living during a time where critique is on the rapid decline. Of course, there’s a time and a place for asserting opinions, but if you notice a problem then you should have the courage to address the issue head-on. For example, last year, I was having a hard time digesting the cottagecore trend because there were elements I liked, but at the same time, it perpetuates and romanticizes colonialism. Design is political, and that’s a truth that shouldn’t be ignored, no matter how uncomfortable it might make some people.
It can feel so daunting to be critical. I recently spoke to Kate Wagner, a critic who writes a blog called McMansion Hell, and she brings a level of brevity to her criticism. As a result, it's more palatable and relatable.
She really levels with the reader. I work for a publication that has historically catered to a more luxurious crowd of, you know.
White people. Totally.
I am obviously not that person, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room to bring in new audiences from other demographics too. That’s what has been so great about being a part of AD right now. Our whole team is always thinking outside the box, and not just trying but striving to do better. I’ve been surprised by their openness to my ideas, suggestions, and concerns. The freelance writers that I’m able to collaborate with on digital features deeply inspire me too. I’m determined to diversify not just our coverage but our contributors; I’m personally invested in amplifying new voices across all of our platforms. I see so many exciting talents emerging within this space, and that makes me excited to be here at this current moment.
'Tendril Sussex Chair Dressing' by Kristin Dickson-Okuda from “Substance in a Cushion” at Jacqueline Sullivan Gallery, 2022. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
The "Goodnight House" immersive group exhibition at Fort Makers, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
A tiny "house" in the middle of a hiking trail in the Catskills, 2022. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
One of the things I noticed while in architecture school was that white, straight, cis-gendered men were the minority. Being in a diverse cohort made our projects more dynamic because people had different perspectives that hadn't been at the table before – or hadn't been invited to the table. It makes me hopeful for the future because, in my opinion, our urban landscape has been highly staid, and it's because it's only been designed from one point of view. I'm optimistic because design is, albeit slowly, becoming more available to people.
I completely agree with you. I don’t have a degree in design, but when I think back to my earliest memories of exposure, there was definitely something beneath the surface that steered me in this direction even though I wasn’t aware of it until now. I’ll never forget when I was interviewing with Amy Astley for my job, and she asked me when my interest in design began. It wasn’t until she asked me this question that I realized it was this product from American Girl Doll called AG Minis—they were these rooms that you could decorate, and I used to play with them for hours. It dawned on me a couple of months after this conversation that the way my apartment is decorated now looks very similar to the AG Minis loft apartment, minus the animal print, because I would never do that. The room was outfitted with chrome furniture, and I freaked out because I love chrome from the Bauhaus era.
You mentioned how your work has evolved. Could you expand?
Now that I’ve covered design, it’s like I’ve unlocked another area to delve into. I follow my curiosity wherever it leads so I’m always seeking those intersections that connect back to culture. Because of my background in music, I can be somewhere like AD, where I get to talk to musicians about their homes. Also, some of the relationships that I established before I’ve been able to bring to AD so it’s all coming full circle. So many of the reps already know me and are genuine fans of my work which makes that aspect of my job a little bit easier!
What is on your mind most right now?
The housing crisis, if we’re being real. I currently rent my apartment and always think about how I would like to own a house someday, but I wonder if that will ever be my reality… I’m so inspired by the work that Architectural Digest is doing in partnership with the Ali Forney Center around providing a safe space for transgender, gender-nonconforming, and nonbinary youth—the team recently received the Community Partner Award for raising nearly $1 million to renovate a historic Harlem townhouse for this community.
“You don’t have to write stories that are solely identity-driven because you’re a person of color; you deserve to write about all the things that interest and inspire you just like everyone else in this industry. You have the range to speak on any topic, I promise.”
What are you most excited about right now?
Clever’s Seat Week, stay tuned for the 2023 edition of musical chairs!
Who are you admiring right now, and why?
My top inspiration is my grandmother. She grew up in Alabama, and she and her siblings all migrated to the north one by one. She was a single mom and a special education teacher, and I admire her because she is a strong, independent Black woman who eventually bought her own house. What she has lived through compared to my life now…it’s wild. When I moved into the apartment that I’m in now, I brought a pair of chairs with me that previously belonged to her—they were the first pieces of furniture that my grandmother bought after her divorce when she could finally afford a place of her own. We’ve kept those in the family; they’re symbolic.
The chairs — wow. My grandma gave me a chair, and I ended up reupholstering it in a verdure fabric. I understand what you mean; I look at it daily and think about what it has been through — the moves and the conversations.
They are totally conversation pieces. My grandmother is an incredible role model, but sometimes she can be a bad influence on me because she loves stuff just as much as I do! I’m a Taurus, so I am naturally drawn to beautiful things and objects of desire. My grandmother is a big proponent of making your home feel special and treating it like your own private gallery. When I was younger, she was always taking me to museums; she’s definitely a big part of why I write about design.
What impact would you like to have on or in the world?
I want to inspire people to pave their own path, have a vision, and see it through. But, moreover, be open to seeing what happens. The first time that I got laid off years ago, I totally freaked out because I never planned for after the five-year plan. Accepting a job at AD came with a level of risk because I don’t come from the design world. I experienced a mild dose of imposter syndrome leading up to my first day, but within a month, I felt confident in my abilities and eye for curation. Believe in yourself and surround yourself with people that support you. I will always champion BIPOC voices and bring as many people as I can through the doors that have been opened for me.
AG Minis loft apartment from Sydney's childhood bedroom, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
Sydney’s grandmother's collection of Lladró porcelains from the Black legacy line on display in her living room, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
The essential coffee table book Architectural Digest at 100: A Century of Style, 2021. Courtesy of Sydney Gore.
I hope you're the next Amy Astley in twenty years.
Thank you. I feel truly honored to be working with her. I’ve never had a better EIC.
What advice do you have for those starting in their career, and would your direction be any different for women?
Don’t be afraid to pitch something. You can start being a “professional” journalist as soon as you want. I was freelancing in college, so by the time I graduated, I had more than enough clips to help me land a job. Your work should speak for you, so be bold and put yourself out there. My advice for BIPOC women especially is don’t let other people tell you who you are. Don’t let anyone pigeonhole you. Throughout my career, I’ve had to navigate the discomfort of being the default writer for assignments about Black subjects because I was the only Black editor on staff. At this stage in my career, I know when to say no without feeling guilty about it. I see a lot of BIPOC writers pressured to pimp their traumas because they’re not afforded opportunities to cover anything else. You don’t have to write stories that are solely identity-driven because you’re a person of color; you deserve to write about all the things that interest and inspire you just like everyone else in this industry. You have the range to speak on any topic, I promise.