The New Yorker Radio Hour - The Hot Fashion Trends in Silicon Valley, and the Top Chef Niki Nakayama

Episode Date: March 19, 2019

Silicon Valley has a reputation for being a place where young geniuses are too busy disrupting the world to buy clothes; jeans and a hoodie generally qualify as business attire. But that is changing, the New Yorker fashion correspondent Rachel Syme notes. Tech moguls have become more conscious of appearances, and a distinctive look—based on optimized, streamlined garments, like trendy Allbirds sneakers—is emerging. Tech moguls have become more conscious of appearances, for better or worse; Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced founder of Theranos, raised hundreds of millions of dollars partly on the image she cultivated with a turtleneck à la Steve Jobs. Syme spoke with the professional stylist Victoria Hitchcock, who runs a thriving practice in Silicon Valley showing the powerful how to project “powerful” for the digital age—without looking like a bunch of bankers. Plus, Helen Rosner talks with Niki Nakayama, one of Los Angeles’s top chefs, about setting up a kitchen that is hospitable to women, and about the impossibility of creating authentically Japanese cuisine in America. New Yorker Radio Hour listeners, we want to hear from you.  We have a few questions about the show and how you listen to it. The survey takes about twenty minutes, and your feedback will help us make our podcast better.  Take the survey here.

From One World Trade Center in Manhattan, this is the New Yorker Radio Hour, a co-production of The New Yorker and WNYC Studios. This is The New Yorker Radio Hour. I'm David Remnick. You remember the story of Elizabeth Holmes, the young tech billionaire and scam artist? Holmes raised some $400 million for her company, Theranos, by selling venture capitalists on a revolutionary medical technology that simply didn't exist. HBO is releasing a documentary this month about her extraordinary rise and fall.

One thing about Holmes that's always remarked on was that she somehow looked apart, every inch the tech visionary wearing a black turtleneck very much in the style of the late Steve Jobs, which is, let's just say, a loaded choice to make in Silicon Valley. In the famously casual tech world, it turns out that image matters and more than you might think. I'm Rachel Syme, and I,

I am a contributor to the New Yorker who rides the on and off the avenue fashion column. The thing that I'm interested in vis-a-vis fashion is there's nothing more fun than figuring out what looks good on your very, very individual unique body. And then tailoring your style to that, playing, experimenting. And that's not what you're going to see in Silicon Valley. What you're going to see is streamlined and sleek. And yeah, it's almost, it goes along with the tech thing, right? Everything's about optimization and getting better and constantly refining the algorithm. And I think people are trying to do that with their clothes, too.

I did a story earlier this year for the New Yorker on Allbirds, which is the sneaker brand in San Francisco right now. And it is reaching like a crazy valuation. And it's really popular in the Valley because it's this sort of streamlined shoe that costs the same, no matter which style you get. And they're all super functional and maybe. of sustainable materials. It's like all these people that are constantly like data mining their life for how can I improve, charting their sleep cycle,

and they're doing transcendental meditation, and they're having soylent for lunch. They want to streamline their life down to the exact number of factors that makes them the bionic human. And that makes me think about Elizabeth Holmes, who founded Theranos. Elizabeth Holmes wore the same thing to work every day. A black turtle net.

black pants and black flat shoes. And what's interesting about that is, yes, it's an outfit that's optimized, but it's also iconic. She told interviewers that she did it for much of the same reason that Steve Jobs wore a black turtleneck every day. She said, I'm spending so much time at my company. I'm sleeping there. It's all I eat, breathe, and I'm not going to want to spend any extra time on my clothing. And this outfit was part of a larger charisma and eccentricity that allowed Elizabeth Holmell

to accrue a lot of power in Silicon Valley. She was able to convince many powerful men to join her board, like Henry Kissinger and General Mattis. Rupert Murdoch put, I think, $150 million into the company. And she did this without ever really showing anyone the proprietary technology she had promised. What about those who say, that's not enough blood to do all the tests that need to be done?

To me, that's a sign that you've actually done something that is transformative. The problems that the company were closer to a long con than just simple corporate malfeasance. And in the end, I think it maybe all comes back to the black turtleneck. The black turtleneck is a garment that is also a long con. It is able to conceal, and at the same time, it's very attention-grabbing. But it's the kind of attention that you can control. You can hide out inside a turtleneck.

It covers a lot of your body. but it also pulls focus to your face. It sculpts your torso into a kind of bust so that your facial expressions are sitting on a pedestal that is your body. When Steve Jobs started wearing the black turtle neck, it stood out in Silicon Valley because a dominant look, especially among tech entrepreneurs there, is something I like to call the young Zuckerberg,

which is something like a zip-up hoodie and cargo pants that tends to convey, I'm too busy disrupting the world to care about what I'm wearing. But that's really changing. These days, tech executives don't necessarily want to look like 19-year-old Zuckerberg, but they also don't want to look like Wall Street bankers. So they go to a stylist who specializes in Silicon Valley, someone like Victoria Hitchcock, who's based in San Francisco,

and is quite successful addressing tech entrepreneurs. A guy that I worked with, Gafferama, scientists in biotech, shows up to meet with a well-known designer that I've set up a meeting for because we're redoing his entire wardrobe. And we meet at a nice restaurant in downtown San Francisco, and he is wearing thongs. So rubber thongs. It's a summertime. I'll give you that. Wait, rubber thongs. Oh, flip-flops. Flip-flops. I thought you meant like a thong underwear. That feels very downtown San Francisco. But, okay, so. So he's got the flip-flops. He's wearing some.

He's got a flip-lops on. Okay. That are worn out like you can't believe. Just like gross old flip fluffs. Right. Jeans that are about high waters, meaning about three inches higher than they should be. They are just flood pants. What a look.

Right. And a t-shirt that has motholes in it. And I have to introduce them to someone who has a reputation. Do you think he was trying to prank you? And I wish. No. Did you eventually get him out of the flip-flops? I got him out of it all.

I bet he never showed up. flip-ups again. No, it is one of my favorite clients. So walk me through this. Let's pretend I'm a tech CEO and I have a startup that's just gotten my first, like, big angel round of investment. Great. It happens all the time. Yeah. So we assess, right? And then the assessment, we figure out what their issues are. Then we create a plan. Do you go shopping with people or do you sort of pull pieces for them or how does that work? Typically, I'll do a video Skype inside their homes with them so we get a field for their existing wardrobe. I give them homework to do beforehand. If you're going to be embarrassed to show this, get rid of it before we Skype. And then I identify bad patterns like

all black, and I figure out why they've focused on those selections. I want them to know how to do the aesthetic on their own, and that's really cool. So you're sort of teaching people how to figure out what style is so that if they were to go into a store, they could buy it for themselves. You go find the black leather jacket. It should be this one. way and that way I define the parameters. And I love that. If I did it deeply hilarious that you advise some of the people that are running the tech industry and they're texting you about which leather jacket to buy. Because you're in your 40s or 50s and you're sitting next to the 20-year-olds? How do you help somebody in their 40s look cool? Like, oh, easy. You got to make sure the polos are

form fitting. And then it's usually narrowing the pant and not dealing with pleats. It seems like a lot of the fashion in the valleys about optimization. I mean, there's that explosion of wearing all bird's or sustainable fabrics, but it's sort of about, like, optimizing your wardrobe, right? Right, and the lifestyle. They're embracing it. They really want to look as smart as they are because they're very smart, right? And now we see a younger group, more of an interest in the image because social media tells a story now. And so you have leaders of these companies in the Bay Area that are stepping up their game. You know, when you walk into Apple, everything's intentional and they're streamlined, the stores bright, clean, organized. Everything has a plan. Now I'm finding that some of these people are catching on because they're the innovators behind concepts like Apple's showroom. Right? And so they get it. They're like, okay, image is huge. It's huge. Yeah, they know that it's big and how the iPhone looks. But, yeah, I mean, and that's what I think was also one of the most ingenious things Steve Jobs did was with that black turtleneck. He immediately made himself into an icon.

image himself. Right. And he had a fabulous aesthetic. You may like how he looked now. You may not, but he was a trendsetter. I used to get calls from people early on saying, I'm going to a TED conference. I might be sitting right next to him. What can I wear that's not exactly like him, but really what they wanted was exactly like him. Everybody wanted to wear the black turtleneck. Right. Yeah. Where did he get his jeans? You know, what do I do about this? How can I kind of fit in? Because I'm coming from Colorado. Yeah. So I've been recently fascinated by the story of Elizabeth Holmes, the CEO of the now defunct company, Theranos, because I've been so fascinated by her uniform. Just how it functioned and why maybe she chose to wear that other than direct homage to Steve Jobs. I think it sends out a wonderful professional message pulled together. I think it's an easy go-to in the area because it was warm. And, you know, because of the climate in the valley, it's chilly three quarters of the year. So I think it was a practical thing, but I think it exudes confidence

in professionalism. Hmm. Well, but we, but also there's a world in which the turtleneck is kind of like a cover-up, right? It's like a very masking garment. Well, good point. It is. And it's unfortunate, but a lot of women hide under their turtlenecks. Yeah. I think that's sometimes because of a lack of confidence. And so I like a little bit more authenticity for the person. So I like to see their shoulders or their wrists. And I love turtlenecks when they're sleeveless. I mean, I also wanted to ask you about speaking to this idea of how to dress when you have a lot of money, as many people in these big companies do.

but you don't want to necessarily transmit that. I think what's really interesting about the style in the valley is that it's kind of about looking intentionally relaxed and under the radar a little more. Oh, several layers under. Really? Yeah. There's a clash sometimes between women wanting to be considered

professional and intellectual. and for a long time they've had to even downplay some of their feminine features. And I think now they're embracing it more and I help them and empower them to be who they are and not to try and mask it, but embrace it and show it in a respectful way. Well, and maybe that's my last question for you, which is why does image matter in business and particularly in the tech sphere, because isn't it all about the ideas? Like, if you have a good idea, you should go far. Does it matter what you look like? Well, because these people are working on the technology, the marketing, the business, the sales part of image, creating their

branding. So I have Facebook. I have Uber. I have Microsoft. I have Apple. So internally, why would you not start caring about how you look? I mean, if you didn't learn it and never was important, It's all around, you know. It's through osmosis. Yeah. You better pick it up. Victoria Hitchcock is a personal style expert who works in Silicon Valley, and she spoke with the New Yorker's Rachel Syme,

who writes for us about fashion and other subjects. This is the New Yorker Radio Hour. Stick around. This is the New Yorker Radio Hour. I'm David Remnick. Helen Rosner is a food correspondent for the New Yorker, and she interprets that beat pretty broadly. She's as likely to write about the ethics of reviewing

or the Me Too issues plaguing restaurant kitchens, as she is the perfect recipe for rhubarb. So she had a lot to talk about recently with the Los Angeles chef, Nikki Nakayama, who's been featured on the Netflix show, Chef's Table, and whose restaurant has been called one of the very best in America.

Here's Helen. Not long ago, I had one of the best meals that I've ever had. It was at a restaurant called Ennaka in Los Angeles, and the kind of food they serve there is called Kiseki. Kaisaki is a type of Japanese cuisine that you might not be familiar with. It's not that common outside of Japan. It's an incredibly formal, ritualized, elaborate meal that unfolds over the course of hours. There are dozens of courses.

The chef at Ennaka in Los Angeles is a woman named Nikki Nakayama. I visited her in the kitchen a few days after I'd had my meal at Anaka, and when I showed up, she gave me a tour. And then this is our dish pit area, but trust us, it's a lot more. organized when we're half service. There's just a lot going on because we have so many dishes. It's like incredible. We had to build a shed outside just to house those dishes. That's why we love our dishwasher. Clemente's been with us for three years. I feel very fortunate that people want to like hang out with us and stay. Even though we want to kill each other sometimes, it's very normal. Nakayama was born in L.A., and she grew up there. Her parents are Japanese immigrants who owned a

seafood distribution company, so she spent her time as a kid working in the warehouse or hanging out in the office. She figured she was going to become a musician, maybe a pop star, but she ended up spending three years studying traditional Japanese cooking in Japan. And in 2011, the culmination of all of that training and running a couple of other restaurants in L.A., she opened Naka. And then this is my work area. I work here. The kitchen at Napa is the first one that Nakayama has been able to build from the ground up. She designed it to suit herself.

She's 5'1 and so everything is at counter height or lower. She has notes paced it up by her workstation and near the past, reminding everyone how to feel what the mood is, what Anaka is all about. But one of the most important notes that I had was actually stuck outside the door

because I felt that this is a very sacred space for me. And, I mean, we've all been in kitchens where the environment hasn't always been a friendly one or hasn't been very conducive to, you know, good things. So I had a note outside that said good things start now. So basically when you walk in, it's like a reminder to tell yourself that leave all your shit outside. Don't bring it in. Don't bring it in. But that's since fallen off.

But generally, everybody gets the idea. When Nakayama talks about these unfriendly environments, I think part of what she's referring to is high-end kitchens in general. Those spaces tend to be pretty bro-y. Almost all of the chefs that are running those kitchens are men. And within the already pretty sexist high-end restaurant world, high-end Japanese cuisine is an area that remains particularly closed to female chefs. Naka's response to this is to staff her kitchen almost entirely with women.

And that includes her right hand in the kitchen and at everything else, her sous chef, Carol Ida. I'm the sous chef here at Naka. My partner and wife? Yes. Don't forget that part. You're not just the sous chef. You're important in a lot of ways. Oh, and you have the most beautiful Romanesque.

We don't use a lot of Romancego in Japanese food, but I'm sure we'll figure out a way. Our first and like our go-to thing is, okay, let's just use the standard Japanese method to cook it and see what happens. And if all else fails, we just temper everything. Kaisaki is incredibly complex and very ritualized. Chefs train for years, sometimes decades, to become Kaiseki masters. The difficulty for someone like Nakayama who's trying to make Kaisaki in California is that the cuisine developed in Japan.

It's a meal that reflects Japanese seasons, Japanese terrain. So to try to translate it to California can be complicated. I think authentic Kaiseki can only exist in Japan. Even for us, we've tried to plant certain plants that are needed to Japan in this environment, and it doesn't work. We've tried to put moss in that window behind you, and it doesn't survive because the environment doesn't allow for it to be. It's not humid enough. I don't like to call ourselves traditional kaisaki in any way, but I think our heart and our motive and our ideas about it feel very genuine and authentic to us and who we are. because I think we're combining a lot of our knowledge of what Japanese cuisine is

and also our personal experience of Japanese food and the things we know about it and combining that with our upbringing in America, it's hard to pretend that we don't have one or the other. So the most authentic representation of who we are is to sort of blend a little bit of both. So when you say we, you're talking about yourself and Carol? Yes. Yes. So when you opened in Naka, Carol wasn't in the picture. Did you guys know each other then?

No. But then you met and started dating and then you decided to work together? Yes. And it all happened sort of by chance and it was a little bit crazy because I lost my sous chef that I'd been working with for nine years. And then she's like, well, I know dashi and I know Japanese cuisine. Maybe I can come and help you just, you know, do some of the basic things that are. really important. And my initial reaction was like, no, you're going to see what a mess I am and how crazy it can be behind there. So everything is all together. Yes. You and Carol have, um, you were on the Out 100. You've sort of appeared together as a couple and you're often described in the media as, you know, like a lesbian chef couple, Carolita and Nikki Nakayama. Do you think that that's an important part of your identity as chefs or Naka's identity as a restaurant?

I originally, I didn't want that to be out there because I felt that it's already hard enough to be a female chef to be judged for so many things. And another level of judgment is not what I want people to focus on when they're coming to eat. I want them just to think about the food and what we're creating. But as time has gone by, I really, and recognize that it's important to sort of put a voice out there to sort of encourage more support and more acceptance. I don't necessarily think that it's very important to tie us to that identity, but I understand how if we are positive about it, it's a good thing. How has it been difficult to be a female chef?

Sometimes one can't help but wonder how serious people are taking you. there are times in the kitchen when I was like, if I was a man, they would never question me about this. But I don't know if that's true or not. I really, really don't. I don't know because I've never been a man. And I don't know what the opposite reaction would be,

but sometimes it's easy to sort of fall back on that just to make yourself feel better. But overall, I feel that I've been very fortunate with NNaka and that it's not an issue anymore. It used to be an issue with the other restaurants that I have, but for here, no. You've told the story a couple of times of being at your sushi restaurant, was it? And what was it, that a man came in and realized that he was going to be served by a woman and got up and left?

Basically, when he walked in, there was a couple of them, and then they walked in and they saw us, and then just turned around and left. And I understood that, oh, he probably thought we weren't a serious restaurant or, oh, this is not a good restaurant, so they just sort of didn't even try. Sushi seems to be a uniquely sexist culture, even within the already difficult universe of fine dining sushi is really still the realm of men. That is very true. I think for men in Japan to have a woman in the kitchen is a distraction for them. And there's this constant belief that women have certain roles that we need to play, and when we're not doing that, we're being rebellious to structure. And rebellion to structure is like a number one no-no in Japan.

So all of your diners here at Anaka know who you are, right? You're pretty well-known now. You've been on TV. You've been on a lot of magazine stories. Why do you still cook with the screen closed in front of the kitchen? I cook with the screen closed because, well, overall, I do enjoy the ability to completely focus on the work. and I feel that it's a lot better for the environment to not have it be open kitchen.

It's very intimate, and the industrial feeling of the kitchen is very overwhelming and not conducive to a nice relaxing feeling. But most of all, I want people to come here and think about the food and not think about who's cooking. So how has Anaka changed since you were on chef's table? So what happened? So, okay, so the first day, chef's table,

came out. We were still taking reservations that were, like where the phone was being forwarded to my cell phone. And I remember that it got really hot, and then we had to turn it off. And then we just, Carol and I just sat there and stared at it for a bit. And we're like, what are we going to do? I was like, she's like, this cannot happen. We've got to figure out a plan. And I was like, who's going to take all those messages? I'm not going to take it anymore. I mean, we were booking up maybe like a week ahead or at least every day we had customers in a good, stable amount, but after chef's table came out, we became like a restaurant that was booking out three months in advance. But seriously, when that happened, Kara and I were like, we need to have

a meeting with our staff because expectation levels are going to be really, really high, and we need to make sure that people come in, don't get disappointed. So that was the first thing on our mind. Let's not piss anybody off. Nikki Nakayama, the chef at Anaka. speaking with Helen Rosner of The New Yorker. I'm David Remnick, and that's our show for today. Thanks for joining us, and please join us next time for the New Yorker Radio Hour. The New Yorker Radio Hour is a co-production of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker.

Our theme music was composed and performed by Merrill Garbus of Tune Yards with additional music by Lexus Quadrado. This episode was produced by Alex Barron, Emily Boutin, Ave Cario, Rianning Corby, Jill Duboff, Karen Frillman, Cala, David Krasnow, Caroline Lester, Louis Mitchell, Sarah Nixon, Stephen Valentino, with help from Mike Dodge-Weiskoff, Emily Mann, and Jessica Henderson. The New Yorker Radio Hour is supported in part by the Cherina Endowment Fund.