When we first came upon Phoebe Lovatt during some Instagram deep dive or another (slash it might have been upon reading one of her many stories in Dazed & Confused or Harper’s Bazaar or Wonderland), our first reaction were twinned feelings of intimidation and admiration. See, the woman has the kind of career that makes us wonder what the eff we’ve been doing with our lives. As in she’s been freelancing as a journalist since she was 21 (for the likes of the aforementioned magazines), profiling and interviewing people like Angjelica Houston and Diane Von Furstenberg. And not just that; she also moderates panels and edits for brands like Nike and Soho House. Oh, and then there’s the club she started, The WW Club, which brings together women working in creative industries—so essentially the creation of your dream girl squad—and the book she wrote, The Handbook For Women Who Do Creative Work, which serves as a guide for those same women.
So, yeah, to say Lovatt is accomplished is a bit of an understatement. But when we showed up at her Fort Greene apartment on a recent Friday morning, all freshly moved into (the London native just went East Coast after living in LA for a few years), it felt less like we were meeting our professional role model, and more like we were hanging out with a friend—who’s happened to do a lot of cool shit.
Don’t get us wrong, Lovatt is as charismatic and interesting and smart as she seems on paper. But she’s also relatable. And it only took one look at her closet, full of vintage Levi’s 501s, bomber jackets and crop tops (so many crop tops—but, like, same), to realize that we were all on the same wavelength. Of course, once she got into her vintage Karl Lagerfeld skirt and bra top and took us to her rooftop to pose for the photog, a little bit of that intimidation factor returned. We mean, a writer and journalist who’s that comfortable in front of the camera? Not fair.