Courtesy of Leila KelleherIn ELLE’s monthly series Office Hours, we ask people in powerful positions to take us through their first jobs, worst jobs, and everything in between. This month, we spoke with Leila Kelleher, assistant professor of fashion design and social justice at Parsons School of Design in New York City, where she is also the director of the Size Inclusion in Fashion Lab. A trailblazer for bigger bodies, Kelleher just launched a sustainable clothing line for plus-size women, a space, in between. Early next year, she’s publishing the first patternmaking book for plus-size women, Plus-Size Patternmaking for Womenswear: Inclusive Sizing, Pattern Drafting, and Fitting. (You can pre-order it now.) Below, the professor, designer, and author shares how she took an unconventional path to her current career, including working as a professional musician for 18 years and getting a PhD in biomechanics. The latter was the unlock she needed. “I realized I needed to break the rules,” she explains. “Larger bodies aren’t like a Xerox copy of a sample-size pattern, enlarged to 130 percent.” Here’s how she’s rewriting the fashion playbook.My first jobWhen I was 17, I worked at Home Yardage, a fabric shop in Sydney, Australia, where I grew up. It was actually a little bit like the fabric stores in New York City’s Garment District. There was a lot of deadstock and ends of rolls. That’s where I got to run my hands through lots of different fabrics—and interesting fabrics.But the best part of the job was my co-workers, who were mainly immigrants who had worked in the fashion industry in their home countries. A lot of them worked at couturiers, so they had really amazing tips on how to sew different fabrics, and cut them and just generally work with them. It was really like a fabric apprenticeship.There was a woman who had worked at a couture house in Malta. She was a highly skilled seamstress. I guess that’s the story of a lot of immigrants. They’re underemployed. So she had a wealth of knowledge.My worst jobThere was another fabric shop I worked at, Lincraft, that was awful. They thought they were really fancy at that time. Everything was very organized and neat and clean. There weren’t rolls and rolls of fabrics to hunt through.But the manager there hated the way I dressed. I was a little bit alternative—I wasn’t polished enough for them, they wanted more posh and fancy. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best, but I would go in wearing clothes with intentional holes. Not in a revealing way, [but] in a fashion-statement way. I was a fashion student. They wanted more business casual.Their sewing style was more classic, too, not creative or inventive. It was just a much more sterile environment. It was not my vibe, and I ended up getting fired.How I transitioned from a career in fashion to becoming a professional musicianHere’s where I’m a little bit of a weirdo—an interesting weirdo, I hope. I studied fashion and custom clothing at TAFE NSW in Sydney. I learned about patternmaking, garment construction, and sample sewing. Then, I worked in wardrobe for film and theater for a bit, and I did custom clothing. It was one-off garments for fancy clients in the tradition of couture.During all of this time, I kept up playing and freelancing as a musician. I grew up playing violin and then later, viola. My undergraduate degree is in music performance from the University of Adelaide. So when I didn’t feel like wardrobing and custom clothing were for me, I started getting really into music.One night, after a performance, a professor from the Eastman School of Music came up to me and invited me to audition for the school. I got in, and moved to the U.S. to do my Masters in Music Performance there when I was 27. After graduating, I went on to play professionally for eight years in Orchestra London Canada in Ontario, Canada.Courtesy of Leila KelleherThe decision behind my PhD in biomechanicsWhen you do the kind of music that I did—orchestral—you’re a cog in a music factory. There’s minimal creative input. I was looking down the barrel of doing the same thing until I retired, and decided I needed a change.I started getting really into musician’s injuries—tendonitis, carpal tunnel syndrome, all of these injuries that come from repetitive movements. So I decided to get my PhD in biomechanics at the University of Western Ontario.On bridging the gap between fashion and biomechanicsI started teaching biomechanics at Humber Polytechnic in Toronto, and I realized we were actively teaching fat-phobic practices. A lot of the students wanted to work as personal trainers or go into the health professions, and there was a general assumption that a smaller body size equaled health. But a colleague of mine, a dietician, opened my eyes to the fact that health is not about thinness. And the more I read, the more I understood that.At the same time, I had a bit of a personal awakening. I love fashion. But I had felt that fashion wasn’t for me because I have been plus-size since my teens. In fashion school, other students could wear the clothes they made or double as a fit model. I never could because we were all taught to make a sample size.This was in the ’90s—deep into diet culture and heroin chic. It was the height of the Kate Moss era and early Tom Ford for Gucci. Those slim, elongated silhouettes were everywhere.I realized I’d started feeling less and less like myself because I wasn’t wearing the clothes I loved. It became apparent very quickly that to change that, I’d have to make them myself. Existing patterns—the ones we all learn to make in fashion school—just don’t cut it for fat folks.How I began driving change in the fashion industryI realized I had to break the rules. I got on Instagram and started @leila_sews. That’s how I started sharing what I was doing, and how I was creating new patterns for bigger bodies. I connected with Jess, @fat.bobbin.girl. This was at the height of skinny jeans and leggings. It was confronting to people to put a wide-leg pant on a larger body. I sent Jess a pattern for a wide-leg pant I made that wasn’t clownish. Jess said she’d never had a pair of pants that fit her that well. That’s when we decided to launch a plus-size sewing pattern brand together, Muna and Broad.We start at a size 12 and publish sizes up to U.S. size 40W. We let people know that if our sizes are too small for them, they should reach out, and we’ll give them what they need.On redefining the future of fashionAt the beginning of next year, I’m publishing the first patternmaking book for plus-size women co-authored with Gabby Brown, Plus-Size Patternmaking for Womenswear: Inclusive Sizing, Pattern Drafting, and Fitting.Larger bodies aren’t like a Xerox copy of a sample-size pattern, enlarged to 130 percent. And since we’re all trained on smaller patterns, a lot of people say it’s hard to design for bigger bodies. But it’s really just that no one has learned it. That’s where this book comes in.It’s for schools to teach this and for companies to have a quick, inexpensive way to expand their sizes. People in-house at fashion companies just don’t have time to do all of the work to make patterns specifically for larger bodies. We made this book super clear, so fashion brands can adopt these pattern blocks quickly. All of the research, development, and testing has already been done for them.Courtesy of Leila KelleherWhy I decided to create a clothing lineI co-founded a space, in between, a sustainable fashion brand for plus-size women that just launched in August. The brand is based in Tokyo and rooted in Japanese heritage in terms of its architectural, clean designs. It leverages the Japanese tradition of craft and precision. All of the shapes are so interesting. All of the fabrics are milled in Japan. They’re cut and sewn in Japan. But all for a global audience. Our designer is so talented. He designed at Yohji Yamamoto and has had his own brand for over a decade. I am obsessed with every piece.I focus on technical design for [the brand], ensuring the fit of each piece works well for a variety of different plus-size bodies. My background in biomechanics has allowed me to approach fashion and patternmaking with a body-first perspective.My proudest career momentI’m really proud of the work I’m doing at Parsons. I was hired to teach the school’s first Fat Fashion class and launch its Size Inclusion in Fashion Lab. Parsons is so respected, and being able to teach Fat Fashion at Parsons has a lot of influence in the industry.Seeing students who graduated from my Fat Fashion class launch brands that are size-inclusive makes me proud. Seeing what I teach at Parsons actually having a place in the fashion marketplace—that’s how real change happens. One of my students, Izzy Li Kostrzewa, started the fashion line Isaboko. It’s completely sustainable. Every piece is made from vintage textiles and zero-waste patterns. And it’s size-inclusive.The advice I’d give to anyone entering the fashion industry todayDoing things differently is actually an advantage. It’s a differentiator for you. If you’re following the same path as everyone else, [then] you’re like everyone else. But if you do something that might seem strange or niche, that can actually be what ends up defining your career.Because I’m an outsider, I’m freer to break the rules.This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.