Tie-Dye, Storytelling, and the Spirit of Lilith Fair
Inside the wonderfully eclectic world of Natalie Martin president Lou Senofonte, from style advice and restaurant recommendations to a newfound appreciation for kilties.
Let’s get this out of the way now: You’re going to want to befriend Lou Senofonte. I know I did, immediately upon first meeting him at the Paris/NYC kids’ show Playtime in 2019, where we were exhibiting across from each other. He had me at first glance when I spotted him in an insane vintage mash-up complete with layered stacks of jewelry. And then there was his life-size, openly warm, and eagerly interested-in-you persona.
Once I introduced him to my editor, Sara Lieberman, for this feature she also wanted to join the Lou Senofonte Fan Club. In fact, the 40-year-old president of Natalie Martin is so charming and so utterly and wonderfully himself — from tie-dye tops and pinkie rings to self-deprecating one-liners — that she convinced me to toss out our standard format this week and let him go rogue! According to her, “He’s too loquacious and wildly entertaining not to speak for himself.”
First, though, a small introduction and professional recap of this man who equates his style with “a child’s reckless abandon” and claims that nurturing one’s look is all about “finding a recipe.” He hails from Pennsylvania’s Rust Belt, where fashion ran in the family: His great-grandmother sewed a sample of the first DVF wrap dress, and his cousin styled hip-hop icons from Beyoncé to Lauryn Hill.
After undergraduate and grad school in Philly, at just 24, Lou cobbled together enough money, thanks to a stint in finance, to open a clothing boutique-cum-art gallery called Lucifer. “Was it a good idea? Absolutely not,” he recalls. “But that’s sort of what your twenties are for. Philly, being an affordable city, allowed that bad idea to happen, and had it not happened, I genuinely don’t know if I would be where I am today.”
That “where” is literally in Los Angeles with his boyfriend, Chris, and dogs Goldie Hawn and Matilda, and professionally as a successful fashion executive at a niche brand who spends much of his day-to-day life thinking operationally about customer relations, management strategy, forecasting, automation, and optimization. “I may be building out three versions of a 3YP [three-year plan] or troubleshooting backend logistics all day long, but I’m doing it dressed like Lou,” he says.
Thank goodness! Guarantee you’ll want to friend him immediately after reading this.
Let’s start at the beginning. Who inspired you sartorially?
I grew up in a family of entrepreneurs from humble beginnings, where there’s a drive and work ethic that becomes part of your personality. You work for everything, and you work hard. My obsession with fashion started very young. I grew up surrounded by strong women who each treated getting dressed as a form of storytelling. I was so drawn to the way they used clothing and personal style to communicate who they were without ever saying a word.
My grandmother, Nana Gin aka Nanabell aka Ginny, taught me the importance of a strong accessory. I can still remember Saturday afternoons sitting on her bed, pawing through jewelry boxes and helping her choose the pieces for her look that day. She also loves a handbag. When she was still in the corporate world, working as the director of nursing at a psychiatric hospital, she would rotate them weekly: bag, matching wallet, coin purse, everything. I’d sit at the dining room table, absolutely mesmerized as she unpacked and repacked the “look” for the week ahead. The ceremony of it all. Like religion — less the guilt! Unless you count buyer’s remorse.
While other kids wanted to spend summer break at Dorney Park & Wild Water Kingdom, I wanted to go to the King of Prussia Mall with my Nana. Lunch at the Zodiac Room and hours wandering Neiman Marcus were more my speed—still are!
I also spent a great deal of time with my great-grandmother Patria, aka Nana Pat or Pat the Cat, a first-generation Italian seamstress who did all of our family’s tailoring. Fun fact: She actually sewed the sample of Diane von Furstenberg’s very first wrap dress. Truly iconic!
She had this magical sewing room, and I remember my cousin Marni coming in from New York on weekends with armfuls of Adidas tracksuits and handkerchiefs and all these wild ideas for how Nana Pat could reconstruct them into something entirely new. At the time, Marni was styling Salt-N-Pepa, Lauryn Hill, Mary J. Blige… and I just thought it was the coolest thing imaginable. Watching clothing transform into identity in real time.
What is your earliest memory of cultivating your own style?
It was a trip to New York in the fall of 1997. I was 11, and my mom was taking my sister and me to stay with Marni and see The Lion King on Broadway. I had spent weeks planning my looks. There was an all-white Polo Ralph Lauren windbreaker tracksuit that was the moment: hat and shoes already selected, obviously. I had a dinner look planned, some mixed plaid Ralph Lauren situation, about five wardrobe changes total for a two-day trip. What I hadn’t planned for was failing a math test on Tuesday before.
In a truly terrible decision, I attempted to change the grade on the paper myself unsuccessfully. My punishment? I was only allowed to bring one outfit to New York. I had to wear my travel look there Friday, wear it all day Saturday, and travel home in it Sunday. Clean undies and socks were the only other things in my bag. If my outfit got dirty, apparently, we could “wash it at Marni’s.” Devastating. I’m fairly certain Marni or my Nana had to stay back with me while my mom took my sister to FAO Schwarz because I refused to risk dirtying the white sweatsuit before theater. I did not speak to my mother for the remainder of the trip and, honestly, probably held the grudge for another full week afterward. Maybe I still do? Ask my therapist.
How did where you were raised influence your style?
I grew up in the “upper middle class” pocket of Scranton and went to prep school during the early aughts when Dave Matthews, Guster, and Phish absolutely reigned supreme. My aesthetic heading into Philly, where I studied undergraduate and graduate at La Salle and Temple, could best be described as “stoner kid at the country club.” Then I got to Philly, where so much of the fashion scene at the time was this incredible blend of underground hipster and urban influence. I think my style today still sits somewhere in that intersection: undone prep with a little hippie soul and some urban edge mixed in. Philly made me a little tougher, but it also taught me that it’s a real miss to take yourself too seriously.
What are a few pieces in your closet that you often gravitate toward and feel most like you?
Elder Statesman tie-dye cashmere sweaters! There is probably no single item in my closet that feels more inherently me. I fell in love with the brand in its earliest days because the concept of bespoke cashmere completely blew my mind. But tie-dyed? As someone who has loved tie-dye since childhood, it felt like the most elevated possible version of myself. The grown-up evolution of all the Grateful Dead and Peace Frog tees I wore as a kid.
Lou loves to rock an Elder Statesman tie-dye cashmere sweater, as seen here in elevator selfies and with his cousin Marni (center) and friend Ramya Giangola (center right). I bought my first sweater around 2012 or 2013 and still wear it constantly. Since then, I’ve collected them slowly over the years. When in doubt, I throw on an Elder Statesman crewneck. Always the simple crew. They somehow feel equal parts luxurious, nostalgic, laid-back, smart, and a little bit eccentric, which is exactly how I hope to come across!
RTH kilties. I discovered RTH completely by accident on a work trip to LA sometime around 2016. I was walking — yes, walking — down La Cienega on my way to Opening Ceremony when I passed this tiny little shop. I had absolutely no idea what I was walking into, but I left with a pile of beaded necklaces and a set of kilties that quietly became a permanent part of my style vocabulary. The original LA shop has since closed, but they now have an outpost in Palm Springs that I visit almost every time we’re in the desert. I can’t get enough of them.
The prep-school boy in me will always love a boat shoe or a saddle shoe, but the kilties changed the way those classics fit into my personal style. They gave them a little weirdness, a little soul.
A pinky ring! Left pinky, specifically. I love them so much. There’s something about a pinky ring that immediately makes me feel like my Papa, like a man. I know that’s objectively a funny explanation, but it’s true.
I’ve built a nice little collection over the years, though I usually rotate between three favorites: my Nana’s vintage signet ring with her initials set in diamonds, an incredible Sarah Hendler Cupola that strangers stop me about constantly, and a Foundrae “protection” ring (they don’t make anymore, but here it is in strength) that I bought myself during a particularly hard chapter of life. I’ve become deeply attached to it.
I’ve also been heavily eyeing the Camber ring from SD Studio lately. I love Spenser’s collection and especially love that the pieces can be customized. I would absolutely do mine in gold with turquoise.
What are some favorite pieces around your home that help you curate a certain vibe or bring you the most joy day-to-day?
I love things. Objects. Living with them, touching them, moving them around. I think home should feel deeply collected and deeply personal; less decorated, more accumulated over time. So many things in our home bring me joy:
Cara de Planta ceramics are high on that list. I’m completely obsessed with the Mexico City-based studio. I bought my first platter at Kneeland, and the collection has steadily grown from there. Chris and I actually visited their studio during a trip to Mexico City last year, and it was incredible seeing the world behind the work in person.
I also love Bitossi Ceramiche, specifically the Rimini Blu collection designed by Aldo Londi. The color, the figures, the texture… I’m endlessly drawn to it. We have a few around the house: the dove, which I’ve thought was a pigeon, is my fave. The collection has been continuously produced since 1959, which feels telling. There’s obviously something timeless and emotionally resonant about it.
I try to make it to the wholesale flower market in our neighborhood weekly because having fresh flowers in the house changes the entire energy of a space for me, but equally important are the vessels that hold them. Our NM flagship in LA shares a wall with Lily Lodge flower shop, and I’ve picked up incredible pieces there from Ugly Mudd, Katie Queen, as well as some amazing vintage vessels.
Lou’s homewares collection includes ceramics from Cara de Planta of Mexico City, Bitossi, and Katie Queen, as well as finds from Kneeland. Knick-knacks from my grandparents’ home. Vintage ashtrays. Family photo albums. There’s also this brass deer I’ve been obsessed with since childhood that used to live on my grandparents’ coffee table and now lives on ours. Those kinds of inherited objects always mean the most to me because they carry memory with them.
And lastly, one of my favorite things in the house is our book collection because it feels like the clearest visual representation of Chris and me combined. Chris is an amazing cook, and he has an incredible cookbook collection. Molly Baz, Donna Hayes, and Mariana Velasquez are on repeat, while I’ve accumulated years of coffee table and art books such as Ryan McGinley, Ugo Rondinone, and Pucci.
What kind of music do you listen to?
My music taste is honestly all over the place. My forever favorite artists could not be more different, and yet somehow both feel spiritually very connected to me: Billy Joel and Ani DiFranco. They are incredible storytellers who are deeply tied to time, place, emotion, and character.
But while I’m working, it’s almost always playlists over albums. I love a playlist. Really, I love the spirit of a burned CD; the guardrails of the perfect 18-20 songs that belong together for a very specific mood, drive, dinner party, spiral, etc. Most mixes I make at this point inevitably include “Losing You” by Solange, “Gloria” by Laura Branigan, and a healthy amount of Talking Heads. There’s usually either some strange emotional throughline connecting all of it or zero throughline built fully on vibes.
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