Fashionistas Sasha Hodges and Ross Kelly
Welcome to Defend Your Taste, wherein Chicago’s cultural curators go to bat for the art they love. This week we visit Sasha Hodges and Ross Kelly—a couple who dropped their jobs to open a resale shop named Kokorokoko (1112 N. Ashland Ave., 773-252-6996). Drawing inspiration from disparate sources ranging from musicians like Prince and Public Enemy to The Cosby Show, these garish trendsetters call their decidedly '80s merchandise "contemporary." They're also participating in a sidewalk sale today from 2 to 10 p.m.
The A.V. Club: What the hell does Kokorokoko mean?
Sasha Hodges: I originally made up the name "Coco Rococo" to kind of symbolize a fabulous over-the-top fashion personality, and then I found out it means "heart is here." Fabulous!
AVC: Why focus on the '80s and '90s?
Ross Kelly: Most of the vintage stores in the city catered to the '50s, '60s, and '70s styles where it’s almost like a costume shop. We felt there needed to be something more wearable and modern, and we felt like now was the time for this.
AVC: How is Kokorokoko not a costume shop?
RK: I think we sell things that are more wearable like —
SH: It’s a more contemporary look because nowadays there’s not as much of differentiated sex roles with clothing.
RK: We are post-sportswear. Sportswear has come into the formal-wear world. You see a lot of dress shoes now that are made like sneakers.
AVC: You describe '80s fashion as over-the-top. But it’s a recession. Styles are known to be more conservative in times like this. Are you trying to create a backlash?
RK: When people had money a few years ago, there was an opposite effect going on where people were trying to look rich and conservative. Now, there’s this trend towards trying to look poor or interesting more than just the sum of your Louis Vuitton bag and Bally shoes. I think we are actually seeing that people are getting wilder, and also we are in this weird period in the world where there is this underlying end-of-the-world tone going on.
AVC: So… the world is ending?
SH: Yeah, 2012.
RK: Fuck it—I might as well be who I want to be now. You see across the board economically people like us who are dropping out of their jobs. I had a job, but I quit it.
AVC: Are people ever appalled by the clothing?
RK: Yeah, pretty much every day.
SH: But I think everything good is like that. If it pleases everyone, then it’s not really anything.
AVC: Where did you both get your confidence to wear this stuff?
SH: Born that way. I’ve always dressed really wild. When I was in high school, I would just wear the wildest thing I could. I had a huge collection of stuff that was all from thrift stores. I think that it was just this idea of loving the fact that you can get a reaction from people—a positive or a negative one—but it’s definitely a reaction. And showing people the possibilities of what you can do. With the store, we are both obsessive collectors. Our house is overflowing with boots and clothes, and we were kind of like, "Let's open the store and share with people all the cool things we’ve found."
RK: We wanted to give the city something edgy and different that wasn’t based on the same clone stuff that you find in Wicker Park.
AVC: How creepy is your house?
SH: It looks a lot like [our shop]. The walls are white and there are pictures up. We both have a fair number of shoes and boots that are arranged on a shelf, and then we have lots of clothing and Halloween masks as decorations.
