Justin Hunt Sloane is a multidisciplinary designer based in Los Angeles, California. His works range across a variety of mediums and constitute an ever-growing, continuous flow of output. Positioning designs for shirt graphics, handmade furniture, custom typefaces, branding campaigns, unused sketches, and found archival material alongside one another, he asserts the importance of each as part of a larger, interconnected dialogue.
Like many designers, his practice frequently extends outside himself—often placing him in proximity with a slowly cultivated network of like-minded friends, partners, and artists. This interview explores three of his ongoing projects via conversations with his collaborators.
Part one features founders and designers Daniel DeSure and Hassan Rahim of Total Luxury Spa, a streetwear company based in the Crenshaw District of Los Angeles that aims to revitalize the surrounding community through wellness and personal engagement. Both DeSure and Rahim were invited to speak at our Insights 2020 Design Lecture Series. The Walker also collaborated with 12:01—Office of Hassan Rahim on the catalogue for Jason Moran's solo exhibition in 2018.
For part two, we join designer Yego Moriava of Garagisme, a car magazine focused on using the automobile as a speculative platform to unite contemporary narratives. In 2019, The Gradient interviewed art director and photographer Gilles Uzan about Garagisme VI.
In part three, we talk with Art Director Molly Smith of Ghostly International, an experimental electronic record label known for its commitment to evocative quality across all forms—audio, visuals, technology, and production. In 2017 the Walker initiated a call and response between composer Rafiq Bhatia and longtime Ghostly contributor Michael Cina, a Minneapolis-based visual artist and designer.
Alongside his independent design practice, Sloane is design director at Day Job Studio. Prior to that, he was a designer at 2x4 and Wolf Ollins and has collaborated with Prada, Printed Matter Inc., and the Aperture Foundation. This past October, he partnered with long-time friends at SharpType to release his debut typeface, Simula.

BRIAN HUDDLESTON (BH)
Can you talk about founding Total Luxury Spa and some of the ideas or concepts that were embedded in it from the beginning?
DANIEL DESURE (DD)
Hassan and I were working closely in the studio here in LA, and it was this idea of a platform to put out zines and smaller projects that we could get behind: we might do a party behind one, we might do a talk, we did a summer film series. We were meeting artists that didn't have gallery representation. In the beginning it was a natural extension of our practices.
HASSAN RAHIM (HR)
Yeah, it was funny because we fully did start in publishing. We had a booth at the LA Art Book Fair. A lot of it, we were trying to put out work for our friends, but also finding people that, like Daniel said, lacked representation. We published a lot of people’s first books.
DD
We had a chance to start creating spaces, creating conversations around those spaces. That's essentially how it started. We started doing a small series of shirts in the beginning, and it turned into a clothing thing, but it still has that publishing kind of energy behind it.
BH
Ideas around wellness and spirituality were also part of that early energy.
DD
Yeah, those have always been present. My interests are in this long history of outsiders who were shaking up the status quo through wellness initiatives. You can look at groups like the Brotherhood of Eternal Love or the Source Family. Things that were really based in California. I've always been interested in cults or groups. In terms of our practice, even in the early days, we've hosted a meditation workshop. Initially it was free and open to the public, and we’d serve breakfast. People from the community would come out, our friends and colleagues would show up for it, and we did that on and off for a year and a half. Now that’s the Tropics initiative—it's been going now for five or six years; it's still free to the public, on Monday evenings at the Underground Museum.
Wellness now is a much larger loaded term, but I think about it not just terms of meditation and eating healthy, but more like a mindset. What is it socially? What does it mean in terms of the socioeconomic? How do you apply wellness to a space like the neighborhood? Or invite it in? We're interested in exploring the design behind those things as well. I know Justin also has a background in that. So we all kind of shared the toolset.
JUSTIN HUNT SLOANE (JHS)
It’s definitely a regionality thing, too. Like you were saying, LA has a history of secularized spirituality—a search for what would be spirituality or this way of shaping community that goes beyond friendship. That’s interesting to me because it's halfway turned away from you. It's kind of mysterious: you have to find room for the idea of something being good for you.
HR
What we've always tried to do is make it for the people. A lot of the stuff that we were interested in, like Source Family, those are legendary LA tales. They spawn from our environment, they give us energy to shape who we are.

DD
In a lot of ways, wellness is just a commodity now. I think you can dissect it and take it back to its source. It's about being healthy in the mind, healthy in terms of being, having access to nutritious inexpensive food, things that are natural. When you look at groups like this in the early ’60s and ’70s, they're just doing things that were extremely illegal. Those ideas were pretty radical at the time. We’re playing in that space. There are a lot of things that are still very radical and issues where wellness can help to create a dialogue around that.
BH
These ideas around community building and nurture, they operate on a slower cadence of time than the pace of fashion and commerce. How do you balance this juxtaposition?
DD
Making art—or making anything—isn’t ever a solitary practice. You’re always having a conversation with the world. For all three of us, it's much more interesting when that is with the community. It's about the people across the street and the people next door. We're not only creating a conversation but creating a two-way street. Take our space for instance, the shop that we just opened. People in the neighborhood work in that space, people come in to learn about the art and vice versa. Those same people can also get their skate needs or shirts. The shirts create a conversation around other elements that are about the neighborhood from the outside in. It's always important to kind of create that kind of two-way street.

JHS
Yeah, definitely: investing in ideas around smaller communities. I feel like nurture demands slowing down, more of an inward focus.
DD
Especially in streetwear and clothing, it feels like everything is very like omni-directional. It's all just to make as much money as fast as possible, and it goes to one area. When that happens, the focus of that lens becomes a little bit smaller. So, with Spa, it's this idea that we're trying to open up that lens more. There are real people behind it, a real community. Also, it's not just this community specifically, but it also spreads (hopefully) to other small communities as well. If we can have a larger dialogue around those things, it begins to grow beyond just streetwear.
HR
Fashion can be trend-based, and I feel like our trajectory is trying to put out something that speaks from the core and not necessarily a trend. That's the balance of a lot of our graphics. Not many people know this, but honestly some of the most well-known graphics were designed like three years before they came out. At the time we kind of waited to drop those—like the Crenshaw tee.
We were also trying to get our production and all the other stuff in order, but it was cool to marinate on it and make sure that we weren't focusing on just now. It’s important to not be too hyper-current with our graphics or messaging.
DD
It's all perspective: you can look at trends as a highway or as a river that’s moving really quickly. When we need to we can jump in and out of that river and use it to create a focus around certain movements by tapping in to that. The moment someone is like, “Oh, that's an amazing graphic,” that opens up the dialogue for us to say “And you know what, here’s this cause that needs all of your attention.”
JHS
Yeah. There's a lot of fatigue around aesthetics, right? So many shirts and so much gets made, there's a lot of fatigue around things looking a certain way. But what people don't realize is that with a lot of the stuff we make we’re not really reaching for aesthetics—it’s the space between. It starts to weave together something like a mantra, a promotional piece, and the abstract.
DD
There's something kind of nice about creating graphics and concepts around older utopian ideals, things that maybe never came to fruition. We build a world around those things. In some ways it's like we're building the house first and then figuring how to fill it.

HR
We've always been about giving back. Another thing about the streetwear sphere, I think a lot of stuff is aesthetic or just responding to one thing. I’ve noticed people do a lot of collaborations just because. They're like, let’s team up with that brand, let’s team up with this musician, and it just seems a little pointless sometimes. I wonder, why would you want to collaborate with them? What do they have to offer? Are you thinking about the intention of whatever you're creating?
For us, we've narrowed down our collaboration program to just fine art. It’s been working well, and the exchanges feel healthy. It's always somebody that has a very strong message with their work and then they want to pick a charity or an organization of their choice where we give proceeds back. It helps to set an intention with everything we create.

BH
What do you feel is a successful collaboration?
DD
For each of us, there's a natural way of working together and a real extension of practice. My practice doesn't completely overlap with Hassan, and Hassan’s doesn’t completely overlap with Justin’s. That element of differentiation is core to our collective energy. Everyone’s just bringing their own kinds of elements to it, and because of that it's a real kind of synergy between all of us, as far as design goes.
Collaborations within the community, say with a mom-and-pop shop in the neighborhood, they're amazing. There's obviously a lot of trust put into us, and then we put a lot of trust into them as well. There can be real energy there—we feel very grateful that they're giving us that trust. Anyone that we've worked with, we maintain those relationships. They become one of the family and we build our family. There are people we worked with day one who we’re still in touch with. The family just continues to grow and evolve.

HR
Yeah, trust is so key. I want to go back to that because it’s all about your gut. We just know when it makes sense and when it doesn't. I think everyone's been in situation where what feels like it's going to be a cool team up turns into a client relationship. There are so many nuances and idiosyncrasies of different people in the way they work. We try to share a mutual trust and a mutual respect when we’re designing. To make sure we really are speaking the same language, and I don’t mean just design, but what's our intention of all of this?
Oftentimes, we're already big fans of these artists for a long time. Sometimes we're surprised to find out that vice versa. We've all been fans of Lauren Halsey’s work for years, and to hear that she wants to do something with us, we're like: oh shit.
DD
It’s rare that we get a cold call to say, Hey, do you want to collab? We ended up working with people that are around our spaces, and I think that trust is built over long periods of time. Whenever we work with someone on a project, whether it’s Kelsey Lu, Lauren Halsey, Cyprian, or someone in the neighborhood, they become part of the family. Once they’re in, they’re part of it. We might do a talk together. We might run into each other and go grab dinner together. And it's all based in trust.
Even the way Justin, Hassan, and I work together, it never feels like work. It always feel like it's just a very natural way of moving. I definitely always want to maintain that, so it doesn't ever feel too heavy or in opposition to the thing that we've created. We’re very organic with it—we'll talk about things for a while, we’ll circle around an idea, everyone will weigh in. There’s no ego. Everyone can speak their mind, things get thrown out, things get brought in. That element, to me, is the most important in all of it. It could take a year to make one shirt. If it’s done in the right way, it will have that energy. But it all comes back to trust, you have to trust in this way of working.
This conversation with Total Luxury Spa took place via phone on February 20, 2020.

BRIAN HUDDLESTON (BH)
Where did you hear about Garagisme, and when did you start working together?
JUSTIN HUNT SLOANE (JHS)
I was on a group chat about F1 stuff with friends. Every time there was a race on, we'd be up at 5:30 in the morning watching and texting each other about the race or what was going on with F1. The magazine got sent around in that thread at some point and it just stuck. We all got into it and started following it.
YEGO MORIAVA (YM)
I really have to get a lot of credit to Gilles Uzan. He founded the magazine, and he's also the art director and photographer. He had gotten to issue four on his own in Paris, then he moved to Los Angeles. I met him during kind of a hiatus where an issue hadn't come out in 18 months. We put out issue five and then six, with Justin's help, and now we've just released issue seven.
When I was still living in New York, my co-worker Brian Okarski showed me issue three. It had Frank Ocean on the cover on his M5. I remember thinking: Whoa, it's so sick that this isn't about Frank Ocean the musician, this is about Frank Ocean the car lover. Also, the photography was rad—lots of postmodern European photographers I had seen from a graphic design point of view, but I hadn't seen photographing cars.

JHS
It's this weird space that hadn't been filled. I grew up watching F1. I love the visual spectacle of motor sport. The content of most car magazines is great, but as an art director I feel like they're visually not engaging. So it was cool to see this as a platform.
YM
Yeah, we started working on Garagisme issue six around November 2018. Justin was collaborating with a person on my team named Emil Karlsson, a Swedish 3D artist. I was the creative director and thought that they were vibing. But he was the first collaborator with Justin and a gentleman named Adam Dupree. Those three did the cover of issue six.

JHS
When we started working together on that issue there was a desire to make a shift from it being a magazine to a platform that the magazine is just one piece of. I drew a new logotype for it, inspired by the Kaarman logo.
That cover feature is about first making a livery, then turning that livery into a photo series, then using that livery as content for examining different ideas. Mine was dealing with a conflicted relationship about motor sports and where the money comes from, looking at the research and development of engineering technology and its relationship with the military industrial complex and oil companies. I mean, I love the sport. I grew up watching it, but it's always been tobacco companies, oil companies, things like that, that sponsored Formula One.

YM
Thinking about the subversion of logos starts to tap into the vernacular of auto sport in general. Last night we were joking because we're trying to nail a look that was, like, Russian tribal motor sport [laughs]. It's such a deep well to draw from—there's so much history—you can draw any design vernacular from motor sport, anything you want comes with a full package.
BH
What was your relationship to cars growing up in California?
JHS
I had to get everything the day I could get everything: the day I turned 15 I had to get my permit, the day I turned 16 I had to get my license. That was my ticket to freedom. I could get to the Bay Area or I could get out of my parents' house. I was just so desperate. I had to get something, and bought this shitty $1,200 Civic. It wasn't in great shape, but I was super pumped on it. I think I fit nine people in it one time.
My dad is a mechanical engineer, and he was still racing British sports cars back in the ’70s. Also, I helped him rebuild a Porsche engine when I was younger.

YM
Yeah, I had a split relationship with cars for sure. My dad had the car that Justin has now. He had a 1979 VW Rabbit five-speed and he worked on his own car. He also had motorcycles when I was a small boy. I saw him tuning motorcycle carburetors and doing oil changes. But then I also grew up in the city taking public transportation, being a skateboarder and being a bike messenger in the late ’90s, early ’00s. So, at that time, I hated cars.
JHS
Yeah, I moved to New York because I went to school in LA and I was thinking about the climate. I didn't want to have a car, didn’t want to support the fossil fuel industry. When I moved back, I thought that the only way I'm going to be able to like deal with living in LA is finding a way to enjoy cars, because you can't do it without that.
YM
There’s a bigger theme of Garagisme in there, which is this postmodern take where we love it and we hate it at the exact same time.

BH
The car is so ubiquitous, but then it's taken on so many different meanings over time. Everything from the Model T to the Cybertruck and everything in between.
YM
Yeah, that's what living in Los Angeles uniquely affords us—the opportunity to witness—because I'm sure we'll see a Cybertruck in the wild before long. And it’ll be right next to an '81 Toyota pickup with 400,000 miles on it that some dude uses to pick up scrap metal.
JHS
You sit on I-10 for five minutes and you see all those situations happening.
YM
These influences all coming together are part of what Justin I have been having fun with, too. When we get together for dinner, we often talk about these things we could make. Previously, Gilles and I came up with the idea of the shift knobs, then Gilles made those happen in Italy in this marble quarry that's 1,500 years old.

BH
The theme for issue six was "Aspirational Fantasy." Does issue seven have a theme?
JHS
It’s "Design Produces Desires." It’s part of a larger quote from Ettore Sottsass.
YM
“Design doesn't solve problems. It produces desires” is the original quote, and we're focusing on design's role in creating lust. This issue has a big section that Gilles’s been working on for the better part of a year. It’s a deeper focus on innovative automotive design. Things like 3D printing, biomolecular alternatives to leather, automotive model sculpting methods, and experimentation for body shapes—and how all those are impacted by technology.
JHS
He's deeper in this than either of us are, definitely in terms of automotive industry stuff.
YM
He's a professional while we're enthusiasts, and I think that balance strikes a nice chord. I think what Justin added was almost a sort of Americana to be mixed with the Europhile sensibility. Like both Justin and I like a lot of European work, but we’re also happy to put a monster truck logo in the middle of it all.
JHS
Yeah, there’s definitely a layer of automotive fandom on top of the science and the knowhow.

BH
What was your process like for issue seven? Did you specifically commission pieces?
YM
So we commission, we take submissions, and we republish when we think that something hasn’t been seen enough. For instance, we have a really wonderful David Black section that highlights a book that he made that sold out. We did our own photo shoot inspired by an artist photo shoot that she did herself. We are collaborating with Eddie Roschi, who founded this fragrance company called La Labo. He designed a Garagisme scent based off a Mazda Cosmo Sport. Gilles went out and photographed this woman named Ginger Q, she has a big feature in the magazine. This is something new for issue seven. There's like a pretty big feminist undercurrent throughout. We've been talking about subverting the idea of traditional car magazines that just default to girls on cars for the cover.

JHS
The process starts informally. Like, we'd be out, Yego would show me something on his phone, and then a month later we'd look at it again.
Gilles sets up a lot of what he wants to cover, framing the editorial content. Then he and Yego rough out a structure, and then Yego and I sort of collaborate on the bits and pieces. We're using a custom typeface that I've been messing with for some of the chapter titles, and we're both very excited about that.
YM
For this issue, Justin and I each started with specific sections, then passed those back and forth.
JHS
Yeah, it kind of evolved organically. Not being too precious is a big thing for me. I'll just do a bunch of stuff and be like: your turn, fuck it up. I don't need it to stay the way it is. I like things that are raw looking so, you know, if it gets left that's great, but I always appreciate that second pass.
YM
And I totally did that to him. But it was usually small additions, because Justin had already set up the framework. It starts to feel like a piece of music.
JHS
Definitely, there’s a jamming kind of thing going on. I feel like we're deep enough into design and we both make so much stuff on a regular basis, one thing isn't going to kill me if it’s changed.
YM
I'm exactly on the knife's edge with that. I'm not precious. But then if one thing changes, sometimes I hate everything.
JHS
As long as I trust the people I’m working with, I give them carte blanche.
This conversation with Garagisme took place via video chat on February 17, 2020.

BRIAN HUDDLESTON (BH)
How did this collaboration between Ghostly International and Justin begin?
JUSTIN HUNT SLOANE (JHS)
Molly and Sam (Valenti IV, Ghostly Founder/CEO) reached out to me separately. I started working on some apparel for Ghostly and the Beacon LP at the same time, in 2018.
MOLLY SMITH (MS)
I was! Props to another talented designer and Ghostly friend, Hassan Rahim, for making me aware of Justin’s work.
BH
Is there a single project from your work together that stands out?
MS
Speaking from the label side, the artwork for Galcher Lustwerk’s Information was a highlight. The approach was very holistic—it was a close-knit back and forth between us, the artist, and our photographer/videographer, Collin Hughes. With everyone’s input and Justin’s direction, we really carved out a visual world that propelled the album forward as a whole and guided the narrative greatly.

JHS
Agreed, the Information project is a rare kind of project where actual world-making got to happen. Collin’s photos and the artist’s vision were central to that. Building out a kind of noir visual world that existed somewhere between past and present, high-tech and low-tech.
MS
Justin has a great balance of being a good listener and knowing when to assert his sensibilities, which is a rare quality that makes him super easy to work with. Typically, we start with throwing all of our ideas on the table—in this case, Chris/Galcher had an amazing folder of references, ranging from vintage advertisements to impressionist paintings to screenshots from spy movies—then we moved on to sorting through all of the photos Collin shot. Justin then came back with a wide assortment of ideas that we slowly narrowed in on round after round, grabbing elements that we liked best as we went along. Editing down was tough! But I think those difficult choices are part of what made the end results so striking.

JHS
After we went through all the reference material I kept thinking about three things a lot:
• The opening credits to Taxi Driver
• Blade Runner—the whole visual texture, the movie, and the concept art
• Quincy Jones’s Body Heat record cover
Collin’s photos lent themselves perfectly to a really macro-focused version of all those things. Establishing those central references and building excitement as a group around this kind of feeling we were going for was really crucial in getting to a point where all the elements gelled together in a particular way.

BH
Working on releases for Ghostly also involves a third collaborator—the artist or the label itself. How do you balance these voices when there are disparate goals?
JHS
Just being careful, the projects don’t move very quickly, we get to sit with the ideas for a while and make sure we’re doing the right thing. There’s usually a good amount of back and forth between Molly and I, but the artist doesn’t see the work until we’re feeling right about it.
I usually get to work in response to what’s already done, which is nice; the music is made already. In the case of the Galcher sleeve, the photos were shot, and Beacon had done a lot of research prior to starting. There is a lot to expand on usually.
The Arthur Russell thing was different, the artwork was made already. Repurposing it in a way that was respectful to the source and interesting in a new context was hard. More restraint involved.
MS
I’d like to think that Ghostly’s goals are straightforward: quality work that feels timeless and ultimately looks good when someone is holding it in their hands. Sometimes working with musicians, even the ones with a design background (sometimes especially!), it can take a bit of work to help them understand that the design is reflecting the statements they’re trying to make. Sometimes they refuse to budge on an idea that doesn’t mesh well, and at that point it’s just about following through on what they want while making it as good as it can be. The results of those types of projects might not hit the highest potential we had hoped for, but they can also be surprisingly interesting.
BH
How present are the artists in collaborations between the two of you?
JHS
Other than providing input at the beginning and meeting for a review somewhere in between, they don’t tend to be very present.
MS
While it’s always the artist’s opinion that matters most at the end of the day, the near-infinite amount of options can be overwhelming, so it’s our jobs to keep things as simple and focused as possible. For example, it’s always preferable to give three options than giving 30—it’s too easy to get lost in micro-adjustments at that point, where feedback becomes more about pixel adjustments than the big picture.
JHS
Very true, the biggest struggle is trying not to over-deliver.
BH
Where do you like to start with a project?
JHS
Feeling like I’ve come to an understanding with people is important, seeing the whole picture of what they want. Doing research and building out a narrative that works with the established themes of the record or the label itself.
I don’t necessarily want to make the releases "connect" with one another visually but the idea of a visually cohesive "catalogue" is cool to me. Labels like Factory and ECM didn't have templated formats or anything but you do see a commitment to visual ideas running through everything they do.
I think about legacy a lot when working on Ghostly, dealing with a label with a 20-year history and trying to balance that with my own thing I’m trying to do. On top of the artist’s vision for their record, their own set of visual goals. Trying to find the right interplay between all those things in a way where everybody gets build on their own integrity and feel good about it.
BH
How important is it to maintain your voice in a collaborative process?
MS
Sometimes my voice isn’t present at all, which is fine by me. I consider myself a mediator above all else, making sure that everyone else’s ideas are present and at their best.
JHS
Not super important, the project feeling beautiful and effortless means getting my opinion out of the way a lot of the time. Half of being a designer is being a facilitator of good things happening, getting people to the idea faster.
BH
Do you see collaboration as an ideological response to the cultural climate of our age?
JHS
In a way. Maybe prioritizing listening over talking is important in our moment. If "politics is downstream from culture," maybe cultural production in 2020 can be about moving slower, not lifting up individuals, hearing both sides, being less impulsive.
I read this piece recently that reminded me of how absurd and excessive the last 10 years feel in hindsight. It’s "fun," but is it getting anywhere?
MS
Totally. The act of collaborative creating, where all voices are heard, leads to something that is greater than the sum of its parts. I love being able to see a bunch of unique distinguishable voices coming together in harmony.
BH
What is the most important part of maintaining a long-term partnership?
JHS
Keeping time open to continue. Remaining excited.
MS
Having trust in the other person is key—that they hear what you’re saying, that they’re considering all angles, that the work they’re giving is their best. It’s that trust that helps in a pinch when a project desperately needs help and I know I have a designer I can count on to deliver a Midas touch.
This conversation with Ghostly took place via a shared doc throughout February, 2020.