When creative director Gia Seo first moved to New York City, she ran bridge laps. That’s down the Williamsburg Bridge and around the Brooklyn Navy Yard, all before hitting the Brooklyn Bridge back to Manhattan. A Tour de New York City for a newcomer. At the time, Gia was a freshman at NYU and, as the semester wore on, running laps gave way to the big city’s many temptations, namely partying and punk shows. Soon, she found herself running the Williamsburg Bridge for less salutary reasons, sprinting — literally — from her late classes to Brooklyn venues Death By Audio or Monster Island Basement, “showing up in my workout clothes like, ‘Let’s rage!’ Then running the bridge back at 3 am,” she says.
Today, over a decade later, she’s back on the bridge. On trainers underfoot, she’s revisiting the path in a more contemplative mood. “It’s still as wild and lively and confusing as when I was 18,” she laughs. It’s also a little nostalgic. With a camera crew in tow, she’s journeying across the bridge with the revolutionary performance running brand, but also through time. “Somehow, the Williamsburg Bridge running path has central ties for me,” she says, somewhat incredulous as to how, between the chaos and bustle, the path now holds a newfound sentimentality. It’s a constant, a witness to how, over the years, Gia’s evolved “as a creative, as a runner, as a person.”
Gia started running when she was 11 years old. The Korean-American creative grew up in Bethel, a small Alaskan town built around a seven-mile loop. One fall day, determined to get into shape, she challenged herself to run it. (“I had unrealistic standards of what I thought running was about,” she asides). After a month, though, as the cold was settling in, she got there. By 15, Gia was running competitively, joining her high school’s track and field team at the coach’s advice. “I started doing half-marathons,” she reminisces. “I really loved the way it made me feel.”

Once Gia graduated high school, the sport fell by the wayside. It wasn’t until she was 22, working in fashion, that she would take it up again. “I rediscovered running during a really stressful time in my life,” she says. She was unhappy in a trying new job, and nothing, it seemed, could alleviate her anxiety. “Therapy wasn’t working, meeting up with friends, all the standard things.” The friend Gia was staying with had a treadmill, so she thought, why not try it out? As the endorphins rushed in, Gia realized that running had been what she was missing. It was a boon: “the thing that took care of me, the thing that kept me accountable, the thing that kept me on track.” Back on track, back running again, Gia says this was when she started taking herself seriously creatively, “because I was able to give myself back this routine that I didn’t realize I’d suffered for not having.”
Ever since, Gia hasn’t looked back. She’s still running. In fact, four years ago, her creative agency, Department Of, was born from a run. “I was tired of making money for people who I felt didn’t represent me or didn’t understand who I was or what my culture was,” she says. “I just kind of hit a wall and while running, I decided I wanted to see more people like me represented in that space. And I wanted it to come from a more genuine place, for lack of a better word.”
Throughout her career, running has brought Gia many such moments of clarity. “I have a really hard time turning my brain off, and running is the only thing that helps me clear my mind,” she says. “I really look to running to help me create a blank canvas so I can start to create from a new foundation versus building off of something that maybe wasn’t working. By the time I’m done with my run, my mind is clear enough that I can start coming up with the solution I’m looking for.”
Over the years, Gia’s relationship with running has changed as well. For one, she doesn’t run competitively anymore. Shaking off the vestiges of her track and field career, however, took some time. “I used to set these weird ultimatums for myself. I would set 15, 20-mile weeks, and I’d be so disappointed in myself if I didn’t hit at least a mile every day,” she says. “When I run now, I’m not so hard on myself. I’ll go out the door and run a quarter of a mile, and I’ll be like, ‘Alright, I did it.’ That’s what counts. For me, the biggest thing is consistency. Making sure that you do get up and you do get out there. I’ve become kinder to myself.”
Speaking of kindness, community has always been central to Gia’s life and work. More than just a creative agency, Department Of acts as a sprawling network, offering young designers and brands access to a plethora of free creative services, running the gamut from creative direction to photography and studio space. “We’re trying to build this network so everyone has access to everything they need in the creative industry,” she says. “There are so many young creatives out there who I’m learning from all the time. For me, personally, it’s the best way to pay it forward.”
Gia tells me that, across the course of her life, she’s been raised by many different communities. One of her reasons for starting Department Of was to give back to them, “the communities that taught me to be the type of creative I am today,” she says. A Korean-American herself, she initially aligned Department Of with the POC community, specifically with Asian-Americans. As the company’s grown, however, its scope of community has widened. “We work with a lot of different cultures and people from different backgrounds. And that kind of brings me back to the way I was raised.”

Back in Bethel, Gia grew up in a predominantly Native American community; hers was one of the village’s two or three Korean families. Despite the cultures’ differences, they came together through food. “[In Bethel], Korean culture became an equally big part of Native culture and vice versa,” she says. “I was kind of raised by both my Korean and Native counterparts.”
There’s also another community, smaller, up north, in Bethel. The early-morning runners who crossed paths with an 11-year-old Gia on that seven-mile loop. “Different members of my community that I didn’t even know ran”, she finishes, all part of a secret and sacred society that find total freedom on the course.
Credits
Director Winnie Cheung
Fashion Mel’Reneé Leamon
Hair and makeup Karla Hirkaler
Fashion assistance Adrianna Espinal
Creative Direction Jaconna Jacobs and Frankie Caracciolo
Executive Producers Michael May and Randy Stulberg
Producers Andrea Blake
Marketing Lacey Hughes
Talent Liaison Emily Mannix