Genesis Webb’s Closet Is Where Marni Meets Rick Owens

Webb’s closet isn’t just filled with clothing; it holds stories. One standout piece is a brown Rick Owens bias jacket from 2004, scored from a New York vintage shop at a ridiculously low price. “[Rick] told me he cut the jacket I have with his own hands, and they didn’t make that many. When I told him how much I got it for, he said it was ‘humbling.’ I won’t get rid of it, ever,” she laughs. Another unforgettable Rick Owens wardrobe moment came from an unexpected source: Adam Lambert. Webb recalls their first meeting vividly, when the singer gave her a pair of opera-length snakeskin gloves, made by Owens, worth $8,000. “I immediately called my mom, who was obsessed with him, like, ‘You won’t believe where I am, who I'm with, and what I just got,’” she says.

Her daily staples evoke a goth kid’s dream: slightly-too-small Fluevog boots and rugged Rick Owens combat boots, but she also collects Marni heels. “I have 11 pairs. I'm obsessed with them. But now, I’m looking for Balenciaga heels by Nicolas [Ghesquière],” she says. “I collect shoes. I don't wear them all; I just want them. And now that I’m a stylist, I can [justify] in my brain that even if they’re not my size, I can still get them because someone’s eventually gonna wear them.” (Philosophy books and crystals also populate her shelves, a nod to her Venus in Scorpio placement.)

Her secret to sourcing fashion treasures includes epic thrifting pilgrimages to Las Vegas and her hometown of Phoenix—“There are like 10 Goodwills per square mile in Phoenix”—and meticulous hunts through eBay, Facebook Marketplace, and even niche reselling forums. “When I had my vintage store, I had this whole drop with a bunch of big rave pants, like Kikwear, JNCO, and Macgear. I was on forums, buying old rave kids’ pants that were in their closet,” she says.

Webb’s fashion awakening came early, when she wore a joyously mismatched Limited Too outfit that her grandparents bought her for the first day of sixth grade. “I wish I had a photo, because it was the quirkiest motherf***ing outfit that I've ever put on my body in my entire life,” she recalls. “It was this multi-pattern skirt with a mixed, multi-pattern top, and I was so obsessed with it, but everyone hated it. That changed the trajectory of my loving clothes because it was a thing that was just for me at that moment, and I was met with distaste.” Growing up in Oklahoma City, Webb was already becoming a fashion rebel. “I've been painting my nails black since I was in fifth grade, and I dyed my hair black for the first time in seventh grade,” she says. In high school, she fully entered her punk era, trading Limited Too looks for all-black ensembles. “I tried to conform until ninth grade, then when my stepdad passed away,” she says. “I'd been arrested a couple of times already at that point. So I just leaned into this space because I didn't fit in with anyone at my school, and was starting to get bullied.”

Her styling career exploded with cosmic speed. After a few years of selling vintage on Depop, Webb began designing her own jewelry, but once the pandemic hit, she wasn’t making money anymore and decided to pivot to styling in 2021. “I deleted the store, closed all my accounts, and followed every stylist from my finsta,” she says. That week, when London-based stylist Davey Sutton posted about needing an assistant for an LA gig, Webb DM’d him and got the job. A little while later, Sutton introduced her to Nicola Formichetti. Two days later, she was on set with Lady Gaga as Formichetti’s assistant.

Webb first met Roan at Formichetti’s house during a fitting for a 2023 V Magazine shoot, which would end up being Roan’s first print feature. It was an instant connection. “We were also the only girls, and she's a girl's girl,’” she says. Webb’s bond with Roan—two Midwestern thrift-obsessed girls with a penchant for “trashy shit”—was sealed that very day, and a couple of weeks later, she got hired as the singer’s stylist.

Since then, they've referenced lowbrow legends like Divine in John Waters’s Pink Flamingos, club kid icons like Lady Miss Kier, and films like Poor Things and Party Monster in their maximalist stage looks.

Webb won’t spill too much about what references we might see on Roan in the future, but admits that a throwback raver theme would be fun, and hopes that the next frontier involves directly collaborating with their artistic heroes. “We've done the references to other gay icons and that was really important for me, and it brought some of my childhood to life again,” she says. “So, now, it’s like, instead of pulling these references, let's actually work with the people who made them—let's work with Harmony Korine and Chris Cunningham.” A promising sign: Roan met John Waters recently, and Webb hints that they “asked him for something.”

When it comes to creative milestones, certain ones stand out, such as Roan’s carnival-themed look for SNL (“I worked so closely with the designer [Gunnar Deatherage] to create that look, down to the colors and styles of the beads”) and the Renaissance-inspired VMA gown (“I took a lot of time to make it as historically accurate and authentic as possible”). As for what’s next? Webb has her sights set on costume design for film.

Webb has also been styling Lisa Manobal, formerly of BLACKPINK, who brings a completely different aesthetic than Roan—he takes pride in amplifying each artist’s identity through her refined taste, rather than imposing her personal style. “I know a couple of stylists that style multiple people, and they're so focused on being able to tell it’s them, that everything looks kind of f***ing cheesy. So, if it’s about showing your name, you're sacrificing the art, and you're sacrificing the talent, too,” she says. “The stylist is just a conduit, that's all. You're just the middle person.”

To cope with the pressures of her high-profile, high-stress career, Webb has learned to detach emotionally from individual jobs. Not from the work itself, but from the inevitable chaos that comes with each project. “Things always go wrong, they always fuck up, they always change. And it’s fine. It’s meant to happen the way it does,” she says. “At the end of the day, it's just fashion. Of course, people live, breathe, eat, and sleep it—I do—but we’re not curing cancer. So, if a bra strap shows? It’s not the end of the world.”

Photos: Shanelle Infante