A T-shirt and a pair of shorts shouldn’t require much debate. On “Beef,” apparently they do. Costume designer Olga Mill and her team tailored Charles Melton’s seemingly simple wardrobe down to where the hem of a T-shirt should hit his body, studying the subtle differences between how Gen Z and millennials wear essentially the same clothes. At one point, a paparazzi photo of Pedro Pascal in short shorts even became a reference. It is the kind of detail most viewers will never consciously notice, but that’s exactly the point.
Season 2 of Lee Sung Jin’s Netflix anthology starts over with a new cast, a new setting and a very different kind of resentment. Young couple Ashley (Cailee Spaeny) and Austin (Melton) witness an explosive argument between their boss, country club manager Josh (Oscar Isaac), and his wife Lindsay (Carey Mulligan). What they do with that information pulls both couples deeper into the wealthy ecosystem of Monte Vista Point, eventually involving billionaire owner Chairwoman Park (Youn Yuh-jung) and her husband, Dr. Kim (Song Kang-ho). Where the first season’s conflict between Danny (Steven Yeun) and Amy (Ali Wong) was openly hostile, Lee conceived the new season around something more passive aggressive, with class and generational differences adding fuel.
The reinvention worked. “Beef” leads this year’s limited or anthology contenders with 16 Emmy nominations, including Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series and acting nominations for Isaac, Mulligan, Melton and Youn. The recognition extends deep into the show’s craft team, with nominations for directing, writing, casting, cinematography and contemporary costumes. Mill shares the costume nomination with assistant costume designer Bailey Gardner, costume supervisor Sarah Basta and key costumer Kellie Ishisaki.
Mill’s work becomes especially interesting when considered alongside production designer Grace Yun and cinematographer James Laxton. The three departments weren’t independently deciding what looked good. They were working from a shared visual idea built around the four seasons. Josh and Lindsay occupy autumn, their marriage well past its bloom. Ashley and Austin represent spring and the promise of something beginning. Chairwoman Park and Dr. Kim inhabit a colder winter, while Monte Vista Point exists in an almost permanent summer, selling its members the fantasy that life there is one long vacation.
That framework gave Mill something surprisingly practical to return to while making hundreds of smaller decisions. “If you have a really strong concept or metaphor, it’s so helpful as a designer because when in doubt, you can ask, ‘Which choice serves this?'” Mill said. Sometimes the question became remarkably literal: “Which sock feels the most spring?” The collaboration extended to Yun’s sets, particularly with Lindsay, whose clothes occasionally seem to compete with the interiors she has designed. Mill describes a paisley pantsuit and the room around it as patterns that aren’t identical but feel “like cousins,” deliberately pushing Lindsay toward being swallowed by her own taste.
That same thinking can be found in less obvious places. Josh begins the season dressed just well enough that he might be mistaken for a club member, reflecting how badly he wants to belong to the world he manages. Chairwoman Park eventually puts him in khakis and a polo, which Mill and Lee conceived as a quiet power move. Austin’s casual surfer wardrobe gradually gives way to technical athletic fabrics as his circumstances change. Even the club employees needed uniforms expensive enough to maintain the illusion that the people serving its wealthy members aren’t really serving them at all. “The fantasy everyone is paying into is this world where everyone acts like they’re your friends and you’re equal,” Mill explained.
Perhaps the clearest example of Mill’s approach is Chairwoman Park. The original references leaned toward real businesswomen and the expected vocabulary of quiet luxury: cashmere, neutral tones and Brunello Cucinelli. Once Mill began working directly with Youn, something felt incomplete. This was also a woman with a younger husband who had purchased an American country club. The wardrobe needed some sexiness and unpredictability. Suddenly, a leather jacket made sense alongside the Chanel. “You always want to spark a curiosity about somebody,” Mill said. “I think the way to do that is to make choices that don’t all feel like a type.”
Awards Focus spoke to Olga Mill about earning her first Emmy nomination for “Beef,” developing the four-seasons concept with Yun and Laxton, and finding the right visual “volume” for the show’s costumes. She also discusses the surprising amount of tailoring behind Melton’s T-shirts and shorts, Lindsay’s fear of looking basic, the power play hidden inside Josh’s country club uniform and how working with Youn transformed her original vision for Chairwoman Park.
Awards Focus: First of all, congratulations on the Emmy nomination. What was your reaction when you heard the news?
Olga Mill: I was so pumped. It’s really exciting. I’m not too cool for school to be like, “Oh, it’s amazing.” It’s also a show I’m so proud of, and our crew worked so hard, so it just feels like a really nice celebration. It also keeps the party going a little bit. You’re still in touch with everyone and get to chat about it. It’s really cool.
AF: Season 1 had such a specific visual language. How much did you want to carry forward versus creating something entirely new for Season 2?
Mill: Kind of a combination. I made a point to ask Sonny right from the beginning how much of a thread he wanted to keep. It is a completely different world, but there’s something he would refer to as the “special sauce.” It’s about recalibrating reality. I also talked to Helen Huang, who did Season 1, and she was really generous about talking about her process. That was helpful for me to understand where on the reality spectrum the show lives. It is a completely different world, but I think it’s still speaking on the same frequency somehow.
AF: What creates that connective thread between the two seasons?
Mill: The color palette was really different. We had the liberty of doing a completely fresh take, and we used this metaphor of the seasons. Each couple in the series represented a different season. Grace Yun, who’s the production designer, and I worked off of that. But to answer your question about the thread, I would say it’s the permission to make unexpected choices. I think the show is pretty grounded, but it allows for the design to have unexpected choices. I’ll use Josh’s cat sweater as an example. That feels like a connecting thread to the world that was set up in Season 1. The tone of the show and the writing are so specific, and it is really grounded and human, but it bounces toward places you don’t expect. We were trying to match that visually.
AF: So much of the season takes place around the country club. How did you establish the look of that world and the people who work there?
Mill: It was interesting because it was a foreign world to me. I did not grow up in country club culture, so I treated it kind of anthropologically, like if you were doing a period film or learning about an entirely different culture. I remember doing a film about equestrian culture a few years ago, and it was the same thing. You have to come at it with curiosity and just say, “I’m here to learn.” I find it really helpful to go to the real place and spend time there. The Montecito Country Club was really generous and let us take some tours. There’s something about being in the space where you molecularly absorb it.
In terms of the uniforms, there were a few guiding lights we were following. From talking to general managers of these clubs, I noticed that the dynamic guests want from the staff is almost for them not to feel like staff. Everyone knows you by name. It’s casual. It’s like, “We’re friends, but I’m going to get you everything you need.” That made me think the staff had to look as if they bought everything from the pro shop. All their pieces needed to be nice and look expensive. It couldn’t be a cheap-looking uniform because the fantasy everyone is paying into is this world where everyone acts like they’re your friends and you’re equal. There is no class here.
It feels shitty if you’re very wealthy and can tell everyone working for you isn’t as rich. It feels nice if you’re surrounded by people where everyone is doing great. You’re just getting me a drink. That was the philosophy behind needing the uniforms to look really sharp. There’s also a resurgence of it being cool to look rich again, in an ’80s country club way. It’s the opposite of what grunge was doing or what indie sleaze was doing. There’s this wave of tennis, country club Americana and wealthy preppiness.
AF: Josh initially looks like he could almost be a member himself, but that changes when Chairwoman Park arrives. How did you show that shift through his clothes?
Mill: We wanted him at first to look like he could be a member. That’s what he’s playing into. That’s the tension of those blurred lines for him. He thinks these people are his friends even though he’s on payroll. He takes pride in wearing your sort of millennial-man Lego set of tailored suit, light-colored sneakers, T-shirt, polo. It’s not until Chairwoman Park comes in and kind of neuters him a little bit. That was an idea that evolved. When we were talking about what Josh should be wearing at the beginning, I remember Sonny and I talking about how it would be interesting if she makes him wear the khakis and polo as a power move at some point. I’m glad you noticed it and that it came through.
AF: Lindsay may have the season’s most expressive wardrobe. How much of her look reflects where she comes from versus how she wants to be perceived?
Mill: That’s such a great question. I think about that for every character. Everyone has what I like to call the “poster on the wall” of who they want to look like, and then you figure out how left of center they get from that aspiration. I think everyone does that in life in some way. “I want to kind of look like this person,” even if it’s not that defined in your head. Then you either nail it or you don’t. For Lindsay especially, Carey and I would talk about how she’s one of those people who really prides herself on having good taste, which, I don’t want to say is lame, but sometimes it keeps you from genuinely having good taste. Her biggest fear in life would be somebody calling her basic. She has that identity where she wants to be like, “Oh, I know about this designer you don’t know about. I’m just a little bit more interesting.” That was a big guiding light for her.
Grace and I also looked at Tina Barney. Grace brought in these images where you would have somebody in a very floral pant sitting next to a really floral couch. Lindsay is an interior designer, and there was this idea of her almost being overpowered by her own taste, swallowed up by her own aesthetic. Grace and I really worked in tandem. The couch in their apartment speaks to the dress Lindsay is wearing in Episode 1. It has a similar autumnal scale. When she’s showing the room she designed at the country club to Chairwoman Park, she’s wearing that paisley pantsuit. It’s not the same pattern, but they’re like cousins. Together, there’s almost a clash.
AF: You mentioned using the four seasons as a visual concept. Where did that idea begin?
Mill: It initially came from Josh and Lindsay feeling autumnal. I like to do these things very early in the process, these color and texture collages that almost have nothing to do with clothing. It’s just what the character and their situation feel like. For Josh and Lindsay, autumn felt right because their relationship is past the blossom of spring and past the joy of summer. It’s kind of dying out. From there, Grace was like, “Oh, this kind of works for everybody’s storyline.” Ashley and Austin are this blossoming of love and potential. Chairwoman Park and Dr. Kim are this cold, icy, austere winter. Then the country club is an endless summer. The fantasy of the country club is that you’re always on vacation and always relaxing.
It worked conceptually first. Then Grace, James and I always had that in mind throughout the season, which I really like because it can be overwhelming making a million choices all the time. Which socks should Ashley wear? What does the background person have? It’s little choice after little choice. If you have a really strong concept or metaphor, it’s so helpful as a designer because when in doubt, you can ask, “Which choice serves this?” At any given moment, you can say, “Okay, which sock feels the most spring?”
AF: How much do you want costumes to actively tell us something about a character versus simply serving the story?
Mill: It’s definitely different show to show, and I would even say scene to scene. At the beginning of a job, I like to have the conversation of, “How loud are the costumes?” There are certain stories where the costumes are screaming and others where they really want to be at a whisper. I find talking about it in terms of volume helpful.
For “Beef” particularly, the volume is almost inconsistent. There are certain scenes and characters where the costumes need to have a low profile. We’re not trying to draw any attention. Then there are other times where suddenly there’s a spike in the volume and you make a really big choice. Ashley’s dress at the end is a very loud gesture of her taking on the identity of the country club and going into this pastoral fantasy she’s aspirationally trying to get. We had the conversation of, “Is this too much? Is this too over the top?” Then we realized the episode is quite over the top. It can handle a bigger, louder costume choice.
AF: Josh’s fur vest on the plane feels like another one of those louder choices.
Mill: Yes. We actually decided whether that vest would be on the plane really last minute. I remember talking about the sour, depressive quality of having glitter on you from the night before, or the stamp on your hand from going out, and what that feels like the next morning. But glitter or a stamp was too subtle. We thought, “What feels like you’re still wearing the thing that represented fun, but you’re not having fun anymore?” We were trying to get at that feeling.
AF: Eunice’s workout scene changes the way we see her after she’s been dressed so professionally. How did you approach that look?
Mill: It was tricky because you’re like, “What is Eunice wearing to work out?” That was something we dyed several times because I had quite a specific color in mind. I really wanted to stick to that icy, wintry palette. It was tight-fitting, of course, but still covered up. Long sleeves, zipped up to the top. It’s not like when you see Ava in workout clothes and she’s in a sports bra. We knew it was still going to be very modest, but we wanted it to be really sexy and flattering. Our shoppers did an amazing job finding it. It had some contrast piping, and I think we added some just to give it interest. We wanted it to feel streamlined and sophisticated, but practical.
I keep coming back to your question about what the thread is between the seasons. When her leg goes all the way back, it’s like, “What?” That’s whatever that “special sauce” is that Sonny would refer to, where things deviate in a surprising way. I think that scene is an example of it as well.
AF: How would you describe your approach to dressing Charles Melton as Austin?
Mill: So fun. We wanted it to feel really lived-in, but still hip and flattering. Something that unlocked it for us was adding a layer of bitchiness to him. That came in during prep and worked its way into the character. We talked about how Josh and Lindsay have their fantasy of being this Ojai cool couple. So what was Austin and Ashley’s fantasy? That was a question I remember asking early on. We decided they want to be this cool surfer beach couple. That was really helpful for me. If you notice at the beginning of the season, none of Austin’s clothes are athletic fabric. It’s more cotton. Then as he goes into this corporate trainer club world, he’s wearing more sweat-resistant, wicking fabrics. At first, it’s more sun-kissed. “I’m going to stop by the gym, then go to a barbecue and then stop by the beach.” That was a guiding principle.
What was surprising is how much tailoring it took. You think of T-shirts and shorts as being more off the rack, but we joked that his stuff was more tailored than anything else in the show. We really wanted to calibrate all the T-shirts and shorts to hit at exactly the right spots. I remember one particular fitting where suddenly he put the pieces on and it was like, when a fitting goes really well, it feels like a séance. You’re like, “Oh my God, the light is flickering. I think Austin’s in the room with us.” Charles was like, “Oh my God, this is it,” and ran up to Sonny’s office. It was really fun to experience that moment when both you and the actor feel it at the same time. The lights flicker and you’re like, “Oh, I’ve evoked it. It’s here.”
AF: What exactly are you tailoring on something as simple as a T-shirt and shorts to make it feel like Austin?
Mill: You’re riding on intuition. No. [Laughs] There was a generational element to it. We were dissecting Gen Z proportions. The shorts are shorter. Men’s T-shirts are shorter. It’s not a crop top, but the proportion is different. The shirts are wider and shorter. There’s that famous paparazzi picture of Pedro Pascal in short shorts that we all kept passing around.
Every generation wears a T-shirt and shorts, but the thing that feels different, even when you can’t put your finger on it, is the proportion. When Josh is jogging, his shorts are longer and his T-shirt is narrower and longer. A lot of my job was decoding what those proportions were and then tailoring accordingly.
AF: Contemporary costume design can look deceptively simple compared with period or fantasy work. When you’re evaluating another designer’s work, what separates great costume design from good costume design?
Mill: I always think costumes, like anything in production, don’t exist in a vacuum. When you’re judging somebody’s work as a costume designer, you’re really judging how it works with the production design and how it works with what the actors are doing. The scale is almost the compatibility of all the elements versus one person’s work or choices.
My work is only as good, or reflected in, how well it works with Grace’s work and James’ work. I think that’s an interesting lens to look at it through. How well is it serving the overall mood of the thing, and how well is it getting along with all the other elements? It’s so collaborative. Your work is flat without the other pieces. If the costumes look good, it means they look good with the production design.
AF: Of the four seasonal worlds you designed, did you have a personal favorite?
Mill: Oh my gosh, I can’t choose. [Laughs] I really loved doing Chairwoman Park, I have to say. Sonny and I had a certain direction that we thought we were going to go in. Then once YJ and I got into the room together, the idea evolved. Where it landed was surprising to me in a way that I thought was really fun. From a design point of view, there’s pleasure in making the boards, executing the boards and saying, “Here it is.” But this was the pleasure of making the boards, having a concept and an idea, and then it grows this whole other branch. That was cool. So I would say Chairwoman Park.
AF: One of those unexpected choices is Chairwoman Park’s leather jacket. How did that evolve from your original concept?
Mill: Initially, a lot of the research I had and the references Sonny was giving me used examples of real businesswomen. I sent the boards to YJ, and we were all like, “Yeah, this feels right.” It was very Brunello Cucinelli, cashmere, neutral tones, quiet luxury. Those elements are still in Chairwoman Park’s wardrobe.
But when we started trying things on and talking, we were like, “This woman has a younger husband. She bought this club in the States.” There’s a sexiness to her, a worldliness to her, an unexpected element. So it was about mixing those classic Chanel pieces and something like the robe with the leather jacket. We wanted her wardrobe to reflect her life choices.
You always want to spark curiosity about somebody, and I think the way to do that is to make choices that don’t all feel like a type. That’s how people often dress in real life. That’s also why the world of “Beef” is such a fun, playful place to be as a designer. Sonny is looking for choices that feel unexpected. I’d put the leather jacket in the same folder as the hamstring stretch. It’s all speaking the same language, hopefully.
AF: It’s been a pleasure talking to you. Congratulations again on the nomination!
Mill: Thank you so much, Ben. Thanks for the thoughtful questions.