From Utah to NYC: How Public Parts is Redefining Sustainable Fashion
Kate Hansen Roberson
On the eve of Public Parts designer Chloe Magleby’s latest runway show, her parents’ Utah home became an eleventh-hour flurry. That night, she polished her 43 designs, each sewn completely by hand and in just a few months. Her best friends rallied around her, posting and texting in a final push to fill the show. They tested the designs and walked through each look together. “It was so magical,” Chloe says. “I will look back on that forever.”
This show was larger and more ambitious than her debut show, an unexpected triumph which took place in an indoor venue. The (massive) space had filled up, literally wall-to-wall, with guests. Public Parts had tangible momentum. A few months later, the second show sold out, and was just as imaginative and brave as the clothes.
On a dirt-path runway nestled in the tall grass of the Salt Lake City mountains, a single-file line of models could be seen emerging from behind a distant hill, wearing ensembles that could be described as anything but ordinary. There were tiered skirt trains, crazy denim looks, bustling tulle, and stunning lace pieces in more forms than you’d think was possible. Even more impressive was the fact that each look, and everything by Public Parts, was made completely of recycled and thrifted materials.
Chloe can upcycle just about anything: tablecloths, lace curtains, denim, scarves, whatever she can get her hands on. “That should be the norm,” Chloe says of sustainable fashion. “If it wasn't for how I feel about the environmental impact of the fashion industry, then I would just be designing clothes as a regular designer. But I find so much value and importance in being sustainable.”
While sustainability isn’t what defines Public Parts (that should just be a given), it is, however, what gave the Public Parts brand its beginning in 2022. Lifelong thrifters, Chloe, her sister, Josie Magleby, and their sister-in-law, Rachel Magleby, began selling vintage finds and thrifted bundles online. Soon, they started offering personalized styling for buyers, turning thrift pieces into curated looks. A few years of this snowballed into handmade designer pieces as Chloe began reworking thrifted items with her sewing machine.
“We had Public Parts up and going,” remembers Chloe of that time. “We were having so much fun playing with clothes all day, so we thought, ‘Let’s go to fashion week and just see if we can get into some shows.’”
While at New York Fashion Week, one presentation gave Chloe the vision she needed to tell herself, “This is possible for me.” The models performed a choreographed sequence that was unlike any runway show. The outfits were crazy; the hairstyles were wild; even the models’ nails were perfectly coordinated with the room’s design. But Chloe realized it wasn’t the clothes that she obsessed over, it was the world she suddenly found herself in—the vibe, the cool people, the art, the bold displays. “Once I connected the dots,” she remembers realizing, “it's not necessarily about me making clothes that everyone's gonna love. I just have to make them feel like they like it.”
She thought about the experience for months; Public Parts belonged in the high-fashion world. “I'm not making clothes for the everyday wearer,” says Chloe. “I make clothes for people who love fashion.” Described as “avant-garde meets everyday,” Public Parts is all about wearing whatever you want in public. Their designs are sexy, cool, edgy, always bold, and perfect for the runway. “If it’s on a runway and it's crazy or weird,” she says, “it's more digestible to people for some reason. Because I debut them as high fashion, people find it cooler and more fun.”
Now, Public Parts is leaving its Western roots behind and making a home in New York City. For Chloe, the move was inevitable. “I don’t want Public Parts to be this little thing,” she explains. “I have delusional, huge, ginormous, uncontrollable dreams for it.” “Utah is so amazing and so great, and there's so many fun, creative things happening there, but as far as fashion goes, New York is the place.” After her first two successful runway shows, Chloe made the leap and is laying the groundwork for Public Parts to become “the biggest thing ever.”
Scaling is their next big focus. While Public Parts is known for its one-of-a-kind, avant-garde pieces, Chloe has her sights set on a line of ready-to-wear pieces, crafted entirely from recycled materials, of course. “But they won’t be basic,” she clarifies. Think runway drama translated into everyday fashion, made sustainably. She’s been sourcing manufacturers that work with 100% recycled fabrics, ensuring the brand remains both innovative and responsible.
Chloe admits that the New York scene is intimidating. “Delusional in New York is next level,” she says. “Everyone has big dreams.” But that doesn’t stop her from envisioning Public Parts as a full-fledged fashion house with the legs to stand alongside legacy brands. “It’s wildly hard, damn near impossible, to break into that market. But I’m planning our business model as if we’re already that big,” she says. That means continuing to push the boundaries of high fashion while also offering wearable, statement-making pieces for the “everyday.”
More than just a brand, Chloe wants Public Parts to be a movement. “I think fashion is that important,” she says. “I want it to be, very much so, a community and a lifestyle that people live, rather than just a logo of some random brand they bought. I want it to be ingrained in people's lives. And I think that that's a very real possibility.”

From Utah to NYC: How Public Parts is Redefining Sustainable Fashion
Article by Kate Hansen Roberson
