By all measures, Quannah Chasinghorse is a powerhouse, but chatting with her feels like catching up with a cousin—or “cuzzin,” in Indigenous speak. Despite being an internationally renowned activist and model who has accomplished much in her relatively short career, Chasinghorse is down-to-earth, articulate and humble. She exudes a lightness and an optimism that are desperately needed given the current climate crisis—something that made her a passionate activist before becoming a sought-after Indigenous fashion model.

Chasinghorse was advocating for the permanent protection of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge when she was scouted for the 2020 Calvin Klein One Future campaign; she was signed by IMG Models months later and then quickly started gracing high-fashion runways and magazine covers. Many of her campaigns, design collabs and keynote-speaker and Met Gala appearances were documented in last year’s short film Walking Two Worlds, a must-see primer on the 22 year-old talent. Those worlds—the high-fashion industry and Chasinghorse’s ancestral homelands around the Han Gwich’in village of Eagle, Alaska—seem like polar opposites that hold conflicting values: capitalism and communalism, revenues and reciprocity, consumption and creation, cities and the land. Navigating the two is a struggle for many Indigenous people, but Chasinghorse is more than fit for the task; giving back is something she sees as integral to her identity. We caught up with her over Zoom and chatted about cultural and environmental activism, Indigenous fashion and the strong relations that make her work possible

Have you been back to Eagle this year?

“I was there not that long ago. It was actually so special. After some quality family time in Eagle, we boated down the Yukon River to another village called Circle, where my great-great-grandma is from. I have relatives over there, but we went for a Gwich’in Nation gathering, where different villages gather to talk about issues that our people face. It’s also a time for cultural revitalization, so there were workshops where people could harvest and make medicine like salves, places for people to learn different things and spaces for kids to do fun cultural activities.

“With colonization and Christianity, we were losing so many of our ceremonies and traditions, but me and my mom have been part of [a movement to] slowly bring back things like traditional tattooing. There is definitely a hesitation in our people to fully embrace this part of our culture. It was very demonized in residential schools, so many of our Elders still hold that way of thinking. But reclaiming it in a very beautiful way, along with sharing the stories, helps them understand what [tattooing] really means, and a lot of Elders were actually way more open-minded than they were before. Some of them received their markings for the first time, and you could see how healing it was for them.”

VICTOR PRIETO

It sounds like a very grounding practice.

“It was so grounding. I think it’s liberating to be able to practise these things again and not be imprisoned or killed for it. I think that’s a big reason why I address cultural appropriation in fashion—I want to help people understand why Indigenous people are so passionate about keeping traditions like this a closed practice. Because throughout history, our people were literally killed for even receiving a traditional marking. So it’s important to start by destigmatizing the practice within our own people and then also educating others.”

Do you see traditional tattoos being appropriated?

“All the time, but not on major runways, thankfully. I think people are too scared because I’ve been really, really vocal about it. When I see any kind of appropriation in fashion, I call it out. I think a lot of people are inspired by it; for instance, for one of my runway shows for Chloé, the makeup was actually inspired by me and my tattoos. They did this really beautiful black winged eyeliner to mimic my eye tattoos. It was really cool and done in a respectful way. But I’ve seen people burning sage on runways, and that’s just super fucking tacky and annoying. The worst is when it’s our traditional medicines being appropriated. It’s exhausting, and I try not to get too worked up about it, but there are ways to address these issues. We’re allowed to be sensitive because there are valid reasons why we feel this way. Again, our people were killed for practising these traditions.”

You’ve previously mentioned that you’ve felt lonely in some of these fashion spaces, like at the Met Gala. Do you feel less lonely these days? Are you finding that there are more Indigenous people in the industry?

“Yeah, I love it. That’s what we’ve been working toward. I love seeing more aspiring native models, and I’ve been mentoring a lot of them, helping them, giving them advice and really rooting for them. There’ve been [times when] I’ve been able to introduce them to really cool people in the industry. I think the only way to really be successful is to actually share your resources and uplift your own community. I don’t just do this for myself—everything I do is for my community. Every job that I’ve taken has [been] a way to give back, and I think that’s the beauty of having a platform. At the end of the day, it’s not just me doing this work. I have my mom and my aunties; I have incredible people in the industry that have helped guide me and led me in my journey. And, yes, a lot of the time, I’ve shown up and done the work, but it was never just something that I did myself. I showed up with the strength and power of not just my ancestors but the people around me too. So it’s refreshing to be able to go to different events and into different spaces and see more natives, feel less lonely and be in community together but also be able to show up and show the world that we deserve to be in those spaces.”

What are the most important relations to you? Who comes to mind when I say the phrase “all my relations”?

“Well, the people who raised me—and it takes a village. I mean, my mom was a single parent raising me and my brothers, so, of course, it was her and my aunties. I learned and continue to learn so much from them. Anytime I have questions or there’s work where I don’t know how I feel about something or I’m a little confused or have conflicting feelings, I immediately run to my auntie group chat—my little ‘Auntie Squad.’ They’re all so strong in what they do. They have a lot of knowledge; one of my aunties is a lawyer and one works in health care, [but] every single one of my aunties is working to benefit our community in one way or another. It’s great to not have to worry about finding the right people for advice. [Our teachings are] not individualistic. We don’t do things for ourselves; we do them for our families and our communities. These teachings have helped guide me on my journey in fashion and advocacy, and I still have so much to learn and so much to do, but I’ll never stop.”

“I feel like Indigenous fashion is slept on; people don’t realize that it’s not only absolutely beautiful but also functional. There are reasons why we have certain designs and certain styles in our regalia.”

I’m assuming that you were surrounded by Indigenous fashion growing up?

“Growing up in a very traditional way, we didn’t have the newest, nicest clothes that came out every year. We had handme-downs, but my mom made sure we had furs, [and] not just for the style they’re beautiful and I love the way they look— but [for the] function too. And so my mom always made our mittens and our mukluks, and they work a lot better than the ones you get at the store. Growing up, that was normal for me. My grandma and my auntie taught me how to make necklaces, how to sew and how to bead. I grew up very, very tied to our cultural way of life, which is in tune with Indigenous fashion.

“I feel like Indigenous fashion is slept on; people don’t realize that it’s not only absolutely beautiful but also functional. There are reasons why we have certain designs and certain styles in our regalia. I think that’s one of the most beautiful things—being able to showcase that and help the world see the authentic version of it and not just some fake appropriations or whitewashed version of our fashion. I really struggle with being told in this industry that Indigenous fashion is not high fashion. I’ve seen native model friends try to get more involved with native fashion, and sometimes our agencies say those designers aren’t big enough, but I want to model for them because [it’s a way to] not only support native artists and our community but also show the world how incredible our people are and how beautiful our artistry is. I’m always wearing native jewellery. I’m always representing and supporting native artists and designers.”

What about the materials themselves?

“We’re all hunters in my family, and everything we harvest comes with a huge teaching. We use everything when we harvest—[for example], we use the bones for different things. I think of porcupine quills and growing up learning quillwork. Every time we would harvest a porcupine, my mom would teach us how to pluck it, singe it—the whole process. That’s something I grew up doing, and I realize now in my adult life that that’s not normal for everybody. Some might say I’m privileged to have grown up with those traditions and my culture, but I hate when people use that aspect of my identity to be harmful. I don’t think it’s a privilege. Yes, there are beautiful things in my community, but there are also lots of issues and a lot of trauma. I’ve learned to navigate this and share what I know with people who are still reconnecting or rebuilding their relationships to the land and their community.”

I’d love to hear some of your “bush stories” from your time hunting and fishing.

“I will tell you how I got my first caribou because that’s actually a very special story. My uncle Willard was such a prominent figure in my life. He definitely had his struggles, but you could never tell; he just loved to put a smile on people’s faces, and he always showed up. He was probably one of the first people who helped me believe in myself; he would say ‘Quannah for president.’ Well, he got sick, and he passed, and we had him traditionally buried ourselves. We were driving him back to our village down a very long dirt road with tricky spots, and we got to the very top of American Summit—basically, where the treeline ends, up in the high tundra. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of caribou just started surrounding our vehicles, and it genuinely just felt like my uncle was with us, saying we’re allowed to harvest for potlatch and for ceremonial reasons. And so we all took the opportunity to get some caribou. We were all just watching at first, in awe of how many there were. And we were taking turns, shooting and getting our caribou, and I remember aiming and pulling the trigger and just knowing. At first, people didn’t believe I got one, but we ran down, and I was right. It was a clean shot to the neck, and I definitely feel like my uncle guided that bullet. He was there with me, and he knew that that was the right time and the right moment for me to get my first. I was able to bring it back and share it with our community and all the Elders, which was the most rewarding feeling. It was such a beautiful moment and a beautiful night. The sky was pink, and it was such a beautiful way to lay my uncle to rest. I miss him, but he’s still with us. He comes through when I need him.”

Is that something you feel often? Spirit being with you?

“Everywhere. All the time. Anytime I miss someone. And I think—especially [when] navigating this industry—it’s important. As a model, I have had moments when I really needed to reach out, and when I do, I feel my ancestors’ presence with me and it makes me feel a sense of comfort. It’s very special to have those connections.”

Quannah Chasinghorse wears a dress by Lauren Good Day and a harness by Christine Creyke. Photography, Victor Prieto; art direction, Celine Semaan; creative producer, Yasmin Almokhamad-Sarkisian; production agency, Slow Factory Studio (for a shoot by Victor Prieto for Slow Factory Studio & EIP)

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