Westside Gunn and Virgil Abloh Talk About Their Shared History, Coming Back from Coronavirus, and Being the “Best in Class”

In 2012, a young Chicago-based designer named Virgil Abloh put together his first apparel collection. He called it Pyrex Vision. Across the country, Buffalo rapper Alvin Worthy—who records as Westside Gunn—re-ignited his passion for rapping after a spell in and out of prison, releasing the first entry in his Hitler Wears Hermes mixtape series.

The timing was fortuitous. Over the next eight years, both profiles would rise substantially. Alongside his brother Demond “Conway” Price and his cousin Jeremie “Benny the Butcher” Pennick, Gunn founded Griselda in 2014. They signed a major label deal with Shady Records in 2017; despite their decidedly throwback sound, they’ve earned a valuable co-sign from Drake. Abloh’s meteoric rise in the fashion world—he’s been the artistic director of Louis Vuitton’s men’s collection since 2018 and Off-White is one of the most popular brands in the world—speaks for itself.

While Gunn and Abloh hovered around each other online—a designer and self-appointed “FlyGod” himself Gunn was up on Off-White and Pyrex early, and Abloh’s friend tipped him off to Griselda years ago—the connection didn’t become crystal clear until Gunn rapped “I need Virgil to sign “BRICK” on my brick,” on last year’s “Dr. Bird’s.” Virgil obliged, and the groundwork was set for Gunn’s new record, Pray for Paris, an album that features Abloh’s first cover design in some time—a referential and wink-heavy edit of Caravaggio’s “Goliath with the Head of David.”

While designing his latest Louis Vuitton collection, Abloh played Griselda’s catalogue, as well as Gunn’s new record, front-to-back. So when he unveiled the line at Paris Fashion Week in January, he had to have Gunn present—”I need chains and diamonds in the front row,” he said. (Abloh also required the energy of another ascendent style revivalist, the late Pop Smoke.) It was Gunn’s first time outside of the country. Inspired by what he was experiencing, he recorded a chunk of Pray for Paris while he was in town.

Earlier this week, I connected with Gunn and Abloh via Zoom. Though he didn't tell anyone outside of his close circle of family and friends while it was happening, Gunn was only a few days removed from a bout with COVID-19 and in good spirits, despite not being able to smoke for two weeks. As the release of Pray for Paris loomed, FlyGod was recovering. He was walking around his home office at his house in Atlanta, which is lined with Kaws toys, neon Fashion Rebel signs, and wrestling ephemera, and seemed more distraught about the recent, lackluster WrestleMania ("That shit was heartbreaking, man") than his spell in the hospital.

“I’ve been through so much in my life,” Gunn said. “I really don't like the feeling sorry for me, the pity. You know what I mean? It's just like, Nah, I'mma thug it out. Let me get through it on my own.”

He didn’t have much to be anxious about: Pray for Paris is the best solo Gunn release to date, thanks to both the who’s-who feature list (Tyler the Creator, Freddie Gibbs, Benny and Conway, Roc Marciano, Wale) as well as the immaculate, from-scratch production (DJ Premier, Tyler again, the Alchemist). It is also certainly the only rap record that features both audio interludes from a Christie’s auction (the record-setting 2017 auction for Leonardo da Vinci’s “Salvador Mundi”) and “The Million Dollar Man.”

I talked to Gunn and Abloh about their partnership, making “quote-unquote real rap” fly as hell, and what’s inspiring both artists in a tough time for Americans.

GQ: How did you start working together on Pray for Paris?

Westside Gunn: I've been a fan of Virgil for seven years. I’m heavy into fashion. I always keep my ears and eyes open to the streets, to who's doing what, because I always designed. I'm more of a fashion designer than I am a rapper. I had Griselda buy Fashion Rebels [FlyGod’s fashion label] first, and then I started Griselda Records. So Griselda Records comes from Fashion Rebels. So I was always fly.

When Virgil came with the Pyrex, I was like, “Yo, what’s the deal with this? What the fuck is?” It was just dope to me, the Champion shorts and everything. The whole look was fly, with the art piece in the front. I was the only guy who even had it in my city. Because you know, Buffalo is, like, the second-largest, poorest city behind Detroit. But at least Detroit has Somerset Mall where they can go to Louis Vuitton or Gucci. In Buffalo, you have Macy's. New York city is still six or seven hours away.

But I've had a house in Atlanta since ‘99, 2000, so I always had access to Lenox Mall and Phipps Plaza. So when I go back to Buffalo, I'm looking like the richest man in the city every day. The whole “FlyGod” thing is just me looking flyer than everybody. So when Virgil dropped Pyrex, I had to be the guy with it. And when he did Off-White, I started putting Off-White references in my rhymes. I had a song called “Mr. T” and I referenced Off-White a few times. When I shot the video, I had to make sure I was in the newest Off-White. I’m telling my homie next to me, ”Man, you got to rock this Nebraska!”

Virgil Abloh: Rare!

WG: We dead smack in the middle of the hood—you can get killed on these corners in this house. It was about bringing this raw art visual to the world. I was tweeting at him, and I think that’s how he caught on. But you’ve got to ask him.

VA: I'm from Rockford, Illinois, which is an hour outside of Chicago. So when I came up in my teenage years—I was born in ‘80—it was like we were just shopping at our local mall, like Polo Sport or Tommy Hilfiger. We of course had to elevate out of that limited selection. And of course when I got to Chicago, it was like Louis Vuitton, Balmain, Hedi Slimane. You know my story, coming up from Chicago with Ye and Don C. We felt very much the same thing.

We're black kids. We're learning fashion by studying fashion in the store. There was no fashion school for us. It was like we would go to Polo and understand the DNA of that brand. We would go to Balmain. And then I was like, “I need to make something.” Because we come from like the hood mentality and the hood resources. Shit's about to change and I need to make a brand that is distinctly ours. But it's distinctly the expensive brands in the store that we were trying to get at. There's always been hood brands. I’m not the first, but I wanted to make something that bridged the gap. That's why the price point was super high. Because I was like, “Yo, how come this Givenchy flannel is $1200? Mine has gotta be 8.”

That was controversial at the time. But look where we're at now—Westside Gunn at the Louis Vuitton show.

I think what we both have in common is that we have a vision that supersedes what people might think of us at any given point. So it started like that. My crew from Chicago, like all the kids that I grew up deejaying with in the ‘90s, we were hardcore hip hop kids, into skating, into art and graffiti. My homie Victor, who was the first kid that had Technic turntables, he used to cut my hair. He’s been up on everything happening in hip hop that's like “real hip hop” since I was 17. So Victor Villalobos—who deserves a shout out in this—he was like, Yo, check out Westside Gunn. Before you even name-dropped in any bars. So I followed you from then. The beats and the bars were just different.

I put together that he was into Pyrex later, but I knew he was paying attention because I could hear how it was delivered in the raps. And in all the years of knowing Hov, this insight is what always blew my mind, in the history of rap. Because I don't think of rap as a lower tier of art. I think it's the highest tier of art. I don't think streetwear is lower than high fashion. I think it's actually more modern than high fashion. And I always asked Hov about the art theory behind name-dropping brands. That's a different level of rap. I asked Ye and Hov, “Did you guys realize what you're doing from a concept level? You're figuring out ways of telling a story, but you're figuring out how to put brands in the right light while you're telling this bigger story.” That’s the lifeline of the whole fashion industry.

I saw you posted a pic of Jay-Z wearing your new merch—which references the Pyrex collection—in front of a Kerry James Marshall painting. That seems to capture the spirit of the album pretty well.

WG: That’s a beautiful picture. I worked so hard to get to this point. I always designed. When I was in eighth grade—13 years old—I was in a phone book looking for screen printers. Once I got to high school I was doing the same thing. I’d go buy jeans suits. Remember when people start trying to put rhinestones on jean suits?

VA: Bejeweled.

WG: We started doing that and we started dying our own Clarks Wallabees.

I was accepted to multiple fashion schools. But I had two kids when I was a teenager. My kids' mom already had two kids when she was still in high school. So I had to be in the streets early. Instead of going to fashion school, I took the street route.

Virgil, your work with Louis Vuitton and Off-White is often associated with younger, more genre-bending artists like Playboi Carti or Lil Uzi Vert. What about Gunn demanded your attention?

VA: Oddly enough our friend Drake put it the best, when he basically said that that chamber of hip hop—which is probably the link to the most pure hip hop era—has never been as fly as the version that Gunn and the Griselda crew bring. That's just a matter of fact. Usually conscious rap or “real hip hop” is not at the forefront of what's happening in culture. But when Drake put it that way, we all felt it.

When I look at [Gunn’s] catalog, like I don't look at Pray for Paris as a solo [project]. It's like if you’re looking at Basquiat paintings and you look at just one. If you look at all of them, you can understand the whole greater vision. It’s the man—all the tapes, all the albums—to me. I look at it from an art perspective, not even just like the teenage version of a music fan, which is just the songs, the artwork that I like. It’s the structure. So there's the intro, which to me is like an art piece in itself: what do you listen to to cleanse the palate before?

Someone’s credit card got swiped for $400M, and this is not right. No cap. Somebody's credit card got swiped for that amount of money. So it’s all about the interludes. And is that your daughter that does the drops?

WG: That’s my daughter, Pootie. The legend.

VA: There’s the spoken words, just how they're arranged and the production. And the adlibs— these are all like Basquiat-level paintings. So it's like, how can you not?

For me, like I always say [when asked] why I work at Louis Vuitton and why I do Nike or why do Off-White or why do Moet champagne. That’s the best in class. It could be Drake's plane and West Side Gunn’s album covers. Those are the best in class of their operation.

Gunn, you mentioned earlier that, before you came down with COVID, you were in Wyoming for a minute. I think no one has to guess as to why. What was your experience there like?

WG: I went to Sunday Service and [Kanye] was talking about his next project—how he wanted me to be involved, do some music and just help behind the scenes, all of that good shit. The original plan was to go to Cabo and the next thing you know, he's like, “No, how about we just go to Wyoming at first and then we just go to Cabo in a couple of weeks,” because at that time, we’re still all taking corona lightly.

I played him the album and he loved it. I just wanted to see his facial expressions, just off of the music, because I know I have a good ear for production. So I just wanted to see what his face was like when certain records came on, production-wise. So he loved it and he played some of his new album, songs he wanted me to get on and be a part of. Then it just started snowing crazy. We ended up leaving that night. But we've been talking ever since.

He just designed a crazy jacket and he sent me the picture like, “Yo, this is my new sculpture.” I tell him, joking, “If you make another sculpture, I want it!” And he says, “No, no, no—I made this jacket for you.” And I'm like, Yo, that's crazy. He was just like, “My next Yeezy season is based off of you.”

I talk to all these guys almost every other day. It's not fake love and fake energy. Anytime I ever reached out to Virgil, he's responded. I feel like all these guys see the new them. And maybe Virgil sees a little of him in me as well.

People are behind me because they want me to win. And that's what I love about it. I finally made it to where all the people I looked up to in the industry are people I can call friends now. And soon family.

VA: In the timeline of hip hop and rap, what we're talking about is black culture and black art being comfortable in its own skin, not being like, “We have something to prove.” If you list out everyone that's been named and on the album, from Premier to Tyler, the Creator. Or if you go back to Tyler, the Creator's Grammy speech about how he felt slighted by getting the rap nomination and not being nominated for Album of the Year. Or Ye and everything that he's been through. Or Jay or LeBron. Everyone that's involved with the West Side Gunn story is state of the art in every category.

What I think makes this story important in 2020 is that we no longer have this element within black culture that’s about competition. Maybe in the '90s while everyone was proving their skill—you could see that on the Premier/RZA battle. They were having to go back in their chambers being like, “Oh, I stood on this corner. You stood on that one and I was hearing your record and I was really trying to outdo that one, you know?” And that was where RZA was saying, or when Premier was like, “I work with these artists, you work with those artists. I worked with Hov one time that we didn't work again.” You catch that.

In 2020 we all realize how we all stand on our own ground. Any competition is more for the health of the ecosystem. This is the way forward. Everyone's celebrating each other and being like, “Yo, I want to work on your project.” Like me here, and Tyler’s beats on the new album. It's huge, from my corner. Tyler has the same sort of story of trying to make his own identity and no one taking him seriously. When I see his credit on the album, before I even get to that song, it lets me know there’s something happening.

In the whole ecosystem of black art, it's like, “Oh, cats are collaborating and this is what I want to see.”

I’m really curious to know what is inspiring both of you right now in a really hard time for most people in the country. What do you turn to?

WG: My inspiration is to get into the fashion world. Going out to Paris for Fashion Week, it opened up my eyes a lot. Now I'm looking at different ways of approaching things, different things I want to design that I never designed before taking. This is just another level. The things I've been designing since Paris have been incredible. Nobody has seen it yet, but if I showed anybody this work, they’d be like, “This is incredible.” Because, like I said, I’ve always been ahead of my time. Certain things I'm doing now, they haven’t been done yet.

The music is easy, you know what I'm saying? I already did that part. I did the music good enough to get me in Paris. But now since I was introduced to Paris, I came back to New York Fashion Week but then I got sick. So I hadn't been really been able to activate, because technically this whole campaign, I wanted to do in Paris, you know, shoot the videos in Paris and have the party in Paris. The whole rollout was supposed to be there.

But at the same time, man, this is my motivation right now. Once this is over, I'm running full speed, bro. I'm out in Milan, I'm going to Japan. Cause you know I just left the country. I’ve only been to Paris. I haven't been to London, I haven't been to Milan, I haven't been to Japan and so many places that I have to go now. When this is over, I’m going across the world.

VA: For me, it's a good time to reflect. As you can tell, all my answers are focused on what a beautiful time [it is] for this culture that was once niche. Now, it's not only by pop culture standards. Because if you look at rock and roll or jazz or disco or all the eras that came before us, they always go like this [motions a trending up line] they go up and then they go down.

It easily could have been the situation where, like, for instance, people are into banjo music right now and hip hop was this super small thing that was already on its way out and now radio only played banjo music. Some shit like that. And instead, if you take this whole conversation and the stories involved, we've hit a new frontier.

To me it's a renaissance of black creatives that have figured out that it's not just rap, it's not just name-checking brands. Because now we’re at the brands that we’re name checking. We’re making runway collections and albums that couldn't have been made before. You know, he's got a new Premo beat in 2020. We're not just glorifying beats that came out 20 years ago.

I'm an optimist so I look at things with a positive mind. This album fits in the same category as the work that I'm doing. Like I'm trying to think of how to make these next Louis collections crazy and how to make Off-White go to the next tier. All that can happen when we all pause and work together.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Originally Appeared on GQ