For the timeless and the effortless
In the Cab With
Elly McGaw
A Conversation on New York City, Dualism, Lightness, Pamela Anderson, and Elly McGaw's Seven Easy Pieces
April 13 2025, by Bart Kooi
After studying fashion business and later transitioning into interior design, McGaw began styling photoshoots on weekends as a creative outlet. In 2017, she moved to New York City expecting to work on a documentary project for just six months — not knowing the city would become her home and set the stage for a full-time career in fashion styling. Today, Elly McGaw is a stylist whose intuitive eye and elevated aesthetic have made her a sought-after name in the New York fashion world and beyond.
In this week’s article, In the Cab With Elly McGaw, a conversation with a very Cabmate stylist and consultant who believes that “just because you’re wearing something sexy and form-fitting doesn’t mean you have to be portrayed only as sexy.”
To start, how did a girl from Sydney with a background in interior design become an influential New York fashion stylist?
My move to New York City was actually very naive. I was coming out of a breakup, and New York felt like a “let’s go somewhere where I don’t know anyone” kind of place. I loved the poetry of moving to a city where no one knows you. It was very ignorant, but when I got here, New York opened up to me in a way that was hard, but also very welcoming — a place where I could better understand the medium I was interested in.
It was originally meant to be just a six-month trip to make a film with a friend — a documentary about art therapy. We met all these people just by being out and about and it was basically just dancing around — very simple. But looking back, it was such a life-changing moment because it made me fall in love with New York City.
It wasn’t supposed to be that way. Before I came to New York for that six-month period, I was still working as an interior designer. I wasn’t really a stylist yet. It was something I was exploring for fun, something I enjoyed doing in my spare time. And naturally, when you give enough energy to something like that, it can turn into a career.
How has your education in interior design shaped your approach to fashion styling?
I think at the core, they’re both about composition. They’re both about how shapes and textures come together to create a feeling. It’s a lot about negative space — it’s about proportions, structure, material.
There’s this book, The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. The whole book is about happiness. It explores how spaces, architecture, and design can influence our emotions and reflect our identity. I think the same is true for clothing. The way I approach design is very much the same way I approach styling — always with the goal of creating a feeling, rather than following a trend or anything.
In a previous interview, you described your aesthetic as “minimal, but not boring.” What defines that distinction for you, and how do you achieve this balance?
When I say minimal, it's not coming from a lack of creativity or depth. It’s the rejection of excess that doesn't serve a purpose.
In today's world, we're constantly encouraged to over-consume and to stack trends on trends. There's a lot of intelligence in the restraint, in what we don't say. There is depth in simplicity when it's intentionally done. What is not said is what is interesting, it gives the viewer something to actually think about.
I would give them a parallel. I would say, “Do you find a leaf floating in a river boring?” If they would say yes, well then I would say, “You obviously don't understand the art of simplicity.” [laughs]
You’ve also mentioned being inspired by the minimal aesthetic of the ’90s. When working with ’90s references, how do you embrace nostalgia while keeping things fresh, new, and relevant?
I think it's hard not to reference the 90s because, I mean, I'm a 90s child. I think I've never been on a set where someone hasn't referenced an old Prada or a Jil Sander reference. It's evident everywhere, naturally that filters through.
All good work pulls from the past but looks toward the future. For me, that happens through design and architecture — you draw from a bit of everything. That’s where the magic is: if you’re shooting a modern woman in the present, but referencing architecture from the ’30s and lighting from the ’90s, it can create this magic. Good work pulls from a little bit of everything and creates something that feels now at the same time.
Is it also about reinterpretation?
Yeah, whenever you see something that is too heavily literal, it's not going to look that good because it's not authentic.
I just did a period piece for Family Style that felt like it was from the ’30s. I was very interested in building a character world like that — I really wanted to do something that felt in that era. Looking back on it, in retrospect, I'm like, “Is it too much?” But that's also just part of being a creative. Whenever you do something, you always reflect on it — “Did that feel authentic? Was it too much in the ’30s? Is it trying to be too much in the ’30s?” But I like to explore — it keeps things entertaining when you can look at shoots like that.
In general, I like to pull a little bit from everything, because I don't like it to feel too literal — except for this case, where I just dove right into it.
The obvious source of inspiration for me is nature. The way it reinvents itself every season, its rawness and individuality. You can’t find that anywhere else. It’s the feeling of stillness. There’s something about sitting in a forest or watching the ocean — that feeling is enough; you don’t need anything else around you. It feels like a blank canvas, internally. There’s a spirituality to it that I really relate to.
If nature is your core inspiration, how do you reconcile that with living in a city like New York?
It’s an internal battle, constant. I have a 3-month rule where I have to leave the city every three months; otherwise, I go absolutely crazy. I find winter really difficult, but in the summer, I spend a lot of time in the parks and meditate a lot. I think I’ve learned to find that peace through years of hard work. But I have to actively seek it — I need to be aware of it. If I don’t have that, I don’t feel like myself.
I noticed this duality not only between New York and nature but also in your styling, like pairing masculinity with femininity — fur with casual pieces like jeans and a t-shirt. What is it about this dualism that attracts you?
It’s definitely a constant in my life — the push and pull between the dualism. I’m a Gemini. I don’t know if that means anything to you or anyone else, but there are two parts of me. There’s this constant “Do I want this, or do I want that?” And the two are very opposite. It’s a reflection of my inner personality.
The way that translates into my work is through the masculine-feminine dynamic. It’s not something I can articulate as something I’m intentionally trying to do. I’m not trying to make the woman more masculine or more feminine. It’s just something that naturally exists because it’s something I’m interested in. It’s how I dress. It’s how I act.
So it is just about expressing who you are — you doing you?
Yeah. And I think for a woman, it’s more interesting because they’re not just one. As humans, we’re not just masculine or feminine — we’re not one or the other. Obviously, some people lean more into one [side], but the two coexist. I think the layers of that are beautiful, also when it comes to styling.
For many stylists, the story or message comes first, with the clothes acting as a tool rather than the focal point. What is your approach to this?
For some stories — like the one for Family Style — I want to tell a story through every aspect of it: the design, the style, the person, the hair. But there are other situations where stillness, saying less, and letting the fashion lead is more important.
I like to think there’s a common thread throughout all my work, and that thread is about the woman. For me, the woman is really the story — that’s an insisting theme.
What is the signature message — if there is one — that you aim to convey through your work? Is it the story of the woman?
I’ve never really considered it in that way before, having to question the message of my work, because it comes to me intuitively. It’s something I think about in terms of what feels good when I’m doing it.
To me, it is about a sense of beauty and lightness. That comes with uplifting the women and the people I'm working with; the intention behind the project, the care that I give to the designers, the relationship I have with the photographers. But it's not necessarily about the signature look or the end result. I believe that will come naturally when all the ingredients are right — that has to filter through the entire aspect of the image-making. It just has to feel good through the entire process.
If there's one message, it's to make people feel light, to search for beauty. It's about a softness, it's a simplicity and ease in a way that doesn't have to take too much.
The story you did with Roe Ethridge on Pamela Anderson for CR Fashion Book is iconic—Anderson in a The Attico jumpsuit and a custom J.R. Malpere hat. What was your thought process behind this shoot?
To me, Pamela Anderson is such an icon. I know that word gets thrown around a lot these days, but she truly is. When I got the call for that shoot, I had just watched her documentary. I felt so deeply for her and the struggles she faced as a woman during that time, especially with the media’s treatment of her. It was such a difficult time to be a woman, and yet she stood up with so much dignity and grace. Having the opportunity to work with her at that point in her career was such an honor. It was so empowering for me as a stylist, and I hope I was able to showcase her in that way too.
The message I particularly wanted to portray was a feeling of not being overly sexualized; I wanted her to feel truly empowered. We had her with no makeup on, very bare. It was just about who she was.
My favorite image in that series is the one with the hat I had made with the amazing designer, J.R. Malpere. He’s this cool, cool, cool, local New York guy. For me, that was creating this almost biblical resurgence — the way a pope would wear something like that. That’s what I wanted to do with her; I wanted to put her in this spot because, from a woman’s point of view, she’s a goddess. I approached it with the intention of creating a place for people to worship her, because she truly deserves it.
[adds] Fashion is such an empowering tool: You can strip away everything and at the same time say so much.
I think it really reflects the idea of having a lot while also embracing minimalism. There’s a strong duality in her look—wearing all black, no makeup, yet still in sky-high heels and a tight Alaïa suit. It felt both bold and raw. The lighting was stripped back too, which added to that feeling.
All of that was clearly intentional—it was about showing different sides of her, and of womanhood. Just because you’re wearing something sexy and form-fitting doesn’t mean you have to be portrayed only as sexy. There’s more depth to that image. She was powerful, vulnerable, styled to the max, yet emotionally bare. It showed that femininity can hold contradictions—and that’s what made it so compelling.
She’s also wearing this The Attico bodysuit. A very sexy piece, but she's wearing it in a very effortless, fun-having manner.
Yeah, that was all a very intentional part of stripping her down, having her feel empowered and non-sexual. Which is hard to do, because women are sexy, you know?
I think it comes from being a woman myself, and being able to make that connection between not over-sexualizing and just feeling safe and secure. It was about uplifting her, showing her in a way we’d never seen before — feeling strong, beautiful, and light. It always comes back to being a woman. I always ask myself, “How do I want to feel?”
Do you think it's because you're a woman that you're able to approach it this way?
I’ve never been in the place of a man, but I do think there’s a sensibility that a woman can bring to another woman — an understanding that definitely helps. When I’m styling, I’m styling for myself. As a woman, I can relate to how the clothes feel on my body. I think that’s definitely an advantage. Even when working with all-women teams, there’s just a different feeling on set.
You have the sensibility.
Yeah, exactly. There’s definitely a sensibility to it, an understanding and appreciation that’s different from how I think a man, especially a straight man, sees a woman.
I agree. I'm a gay man and I want to empower women, but I'll never be in a woman's position, so I can never fully grasp how a woman feels.
You can't tell stories you don't know. You can admire them, try to build understanding with someone, but you'll never truly be in that situation. It will never feel as authentic as when a gay man is telling stories about gay men. It comes from a place of knowing, not just admiration.
Is there another particular image that you feel truly represents your work, your message?
It’s actually a photo I shot with Stan [Stanislas Motz Neidhart]. We took it for The Frankie Shop, featuring Luca, one of my favorite models from the early '00s. We shot in this pre-mid-century, abandoned house with muted colors. She’s wearing an exposed jacket that’s falling off her shoulders, old tights, and these yellow shoes that I’ve kept for 10 years from Nicolas Ghesquière at Balenciaga.
It has this rawness to it. It feels feminine, yet it’s so imperfect. The room isn’t clean, it’s not new or polished, but there’s a softness to it. It’s not over-styled — she has minimal makeup on, her hair is messy, and it blends the worlds of old architecture with the present. The woman, as she is, has this softness. It’s definitely one of my favorite images I’ve shot. It captures the kind of woman I love: vulnerable, but still strong.
Yeah, interesting. Maybe it’s true if you look at the Pamela [Anderson] work too. I wouldn’t say I want women to feel vulnerable, though, because I’m not trying to say, “Oh, you should feel vulnerable.” I think women should just feel like themselves. I’m a woman — I’m deep, I’m vulnerable, but I’m also empowered by all of that. I don’t think that needs to define me.
As fashion is a tool for self-expression, what would you say your personal style communicates about you?
My personal style is very much like the two types of people we were discussing. I’m either on a beach, this very chill, bohemian girl with no shoes on, or I’m in the city with a leather jacket. But I’m always pretty natural — my outfits are effortless and relaxed.
When I was growing up, I was told I was cute a lot. I have blonde hair, a high-pitched voice. I don’t like being called cute or feeling that way. I think that’s why I’ve always dressed in ways to avoid that.
The way I dress is very muted; I'm usually in black or tonal colors. I wear a lot of vintage because I don’t like wearing what everyone else is wearing. I like to feel individual. I think my style says that about me — that I'm an individual, that I'm tough and strong. It's laid back, comfortable, and I’m often in men's pants. So, she's comfortable, she's strong. Most of the time, I'm definitely more of a uniform person.
If we were to talk in the language of Donna Karan and refer to your uniform as your "Seven Easy Pieces," what seven pieces would they be?
- Always a pair of black trousers. I live in them and have about three different versions. They're oversized and sit really low. They’re very comfortable, I wear them most days of the week;
- I think everyone needs a strong statement belt. I have a YSL one, which is a bit glamorous. It has a gold buckle, one of their classic designs;
- A pair of loafers, mine are from The Row;
- A good leather bag is essential. I have one from a brand called Liffner. Since I'm always on the go, I just throw everything in there. It's a big bag, and honestly, it's always a mess.
- A pair of kitten heels, like a little low pump, is always in my bag. I wear loafers when I'm going to meetings, but then if I'm heading to a dinner, I’ll switch to the kitten heels;
- I think everyone needs a structured item — for me, it's a strong coat. Whether it's leather or a trench, it's like an armor. When I'm on set, I love wearing big, heavy pieces. It just makes me feel protected, like it does something to me;
- And a bikini! Just a simple one. I mean, you have to be ready for an ocean swim or a sauna. I'm really into health and wellness, so if there's ever an opportunity to put my bikini on and do some kind of water activity, I'll take it.
And finally, what makes something very Cabmate to you?
It’s very nostalgic, very effortless, very undone. And it’s a bit rebellious, it's got that raw feeling to it •
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Copyright © 2025 Cabmate. All Rights Reserved.