NYFW Getting Kicked Out of Lincoln, Causes Intern Flashbacks

According to new reports, New York Fashion Week is officially moving, which doesn’t come as much of a surprise since there’s been a cold war going on between residents who use (or used to use) the converted Damrosch Park before or between it crawling with giraffe legged models and peacocking fashion professhs.

However, since the dispute officially went from cold war to legal war, the Supreme Court of the State of New York recently ruled in favor of the park advocates, siting Damrosch technically belongs to the state, not Lincoln, so its uses have to be approved by the Parks Department. And since they don’t approve of NYFW encroaching on their turf, designers have to roll their clothing racks elsewhere.

That elsewhere is Hudson Yard on the lower west side, except it won’t be ready until 2017/2018. Nothing was said on whether Lincoln Center is legally approved to host the semiannual event for 2 more years or if NYFW is going to be scattered all over the island, like pre-Bryant Park when designers’s shows were produced independently and loose fixtures conked editors in the head?

I just hope when Hudson Yard is complete they’ll provide shuttle service to and from the train stations. I vividly remember the struggle from 7th Ave to the west edge as an intern. By the time I hit 10th, I was usually crawling on my belly. And if not shuttle service then check points equipped with chargers, bottled water, and towel service featuring inspirational quotes about not giving up stitched into them.

Tis the Season to Party and Panic



I’m checking my phone and the little email notification icon pops up. I spot the all caps and exclamation points and my heart immediately fills with fear. It’s another holiday party season, but my reaction is always the same:

The minute I get an invitation I panic. I think outfit. But how? I own nothing. I have nothing. I’m practically naked right now. And that’s the way it’s gonna be if I don’t kill a bison and bring my mother the hide to chew and tan and sew together because this might as well be the dawn of mankind and clothes as I know it since finding something to wear will be that much struggle. I’ll need the whole 2 week lead up just to figure this shit out.

A week later when reality slowly starts to set in and my opinion of my style and closet have evolved a little, I call my best friend on speaker and start rummaging through every rod, bag, and bin. There will inevitably be a couple key pieces missing that I didn’t notice ’til now and I go full on Old Testament God flooding the bed, chairs and floor with clothes in a panic for 2.5 minutes. But I figure they must be in storage and make a mental note to rescue them before the party. (I don’t.) I’m less Samantha Jones and more Craig Jones so I “never got two things that match.”

It’s 3 days before and reality is setting in. I decide it’ll be way more fun (read less awkward) attending with a friend. These invitations never explicitly encourage a plus one, if they’re industry, but fashionable friends are always welcome. (It takes an east village to raise a toast.) But who should I drag with me? Sho is cool to hang solo if I have schmooze for a few but she always finds hair in her food. KP will make like 3 connections in the first hour but I can already hear the, “Thats your thing. I don’t understand any of that shit” speech, which is a set up to let me know she’s not down. Hunter? No. She’s anti-social, anti-people, and anti-commuting. On the upside she’s pro-drinking. Too bad she’s probably not available. I bet her family is having some baby-shower-birthday-bar mitzvah that same day. I’ll just put out feelers to everyone I know and see who bites.

The day before and I’m in a great repression of how much I’m really dreading dressing my body, riding that ratchet train into the city, and navigating a room full of impenetrable threesomes smudging lipstick on their glasses in between investigating which overlapping friendships they have in common. I know the anxiety has nothing to do with the outfit at all, but I still make one last attempt to find something to wear before I eventually give up about when I start to look like the guy who sells roses on the freeway wearing all the clothes he owns.

The event date is finally here. I have no +1 and zero fucks to give. I think about canceling, if it’s a personal invite, but I don’t have a good excuse. Physically fusing with my couch is a meme, not an excuse. “I would prefer to sit at home alone on the computer instead of socializing” doesn’t have the same charm when you say it out loud. On the plus side, going will earn me cancelation credits for the next two events.

I decide to wear my hair messy because no one can tell the difference and pick an outfit from the rotation of favorite pieces I constantly mix and match. Most importantly, I stock my party survival utility belt: I won’t check Instagram or Twitter for a few hours to build scrolling material, get at least one trivial text message convo going that doesn’t require a rapid response time, and decide on what kind of drink I’m in the mood for so I can busy my eyes and hands as opposed to all 4 awkwardly hanging from my body whenever I’m not talking. I feel in control and very prepared until I check the invitation and realize the event actually passed…about a week ago…

*I celebrate with the Shmoney dance*

If These Trends Die So Will Street Style


If statement outerwear, fur, printed pants, and pajamas go out of style, what the Ostwald Helgason are street style stars going to wear to shows?

According the apparel analysis company Editd, those are the dying trends of 2014, which were “calculated by analyzing how each has been priced, then discounted or promoted in the past year, along with what new arrivals have made their way onto the market.”

But burying those dying trends feels counterintuitive since there is no other kind of outerwear in fashion except one that makes a statement (and impatiently waits for a compliment). And I was personally looking forward to rocking spring 2015’s upcoming 70s trend with a pair of printed pants.

Of course, one line graphed analysis doesn’t automatically kill a trend. In fact, the business of fashion and retail authoritarians seem to end up at odds with what’s visibly happening on the creative end of the industry a lot. Like how Pantone triumphed Radiant Orchid the color of the 2014, but blue and gray ruled the runways.

It may just boil down to the fact that design and editorial tend to create and consume in the same fish bowl, while companies like Editd and Pantone are composing data with samples from the whole pond. But, I’d rather reduce it to a right brain versus left brain conflict. We can each sacrifice our pick with the biggest frontal lobe and cutest Celine bag to roll up their already frayed jeans and settle this on Shanzelize in Paris with fisticuffs.

True, I didn’t buy any of the dying styles this year. So maybe numbers don’t lie, but they do fluctuate. And since so do the tastes of street style stars, next fashion week their new looks will pen a whole other round of obits for trends laid to rest. Fortunately, regardless of whose hands they die by, my closet believes in reincarnation.

Drake Lines to Get You Through Turkey Day Small Talk


The 2014 holiday season officially kicks off this week with Thanksgiving. We’re all looking forward to fisting as much food into our faces as is acceptable before it starts warranting silent judgement and secret side eyes — read public shaming if your host family is not so subtle. But eating only actually accounts for what…like one hour out of the whole evening? So before, and probably after, feasting, our mouths will be making conversation.

If your tongue has to dance for your Tday dinner, you can deal with it a couple different ways. You can completely check out and turn into the talking head. Limit 1-3 word responses to any and all inquires, interjecting the occasional “how?” or “why?” Or if you’re up for the gobble day gabbin, you could go with one captivating story (though this works best at a dinner with no familial relation). But, the aforementioned methods will only get you so far.

There will always be at least one, or several, people who will want to know where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing, and why you haven’t been more successful at doing it. If that’s what you’re anticipating, I can offer you something even better than pity — Drake.

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Faux Soul Searching in Faux Fur

yellow-fur-naked-editorial-big-bird-spirit-animalI’ve been obsessively thinking about winter lately. It’s partly to keep current with fashion and partly to brace myself for the inevitable — that arctic blast of cold that makes you squint your eyes and clench your butt muscles out of fear as soon as you step outside. I don’t know for a fact that this winter will be just as bad as last year’s “Polar Vortex”, but the previous years have been harsh too.

The kind of harsh that forces you back indoors and begs you to meditate on life (i.e hate on girls on Instagram from Florida and LA who consider a fur vest outerwear). With that much at-home leisure time and faux soul searching to do, you need a spirit guide. Or more specifically, a spirit animal.

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The Alexander Wang x H&M Press Shopping Event Hunger Games

There’s one threat I said I’d never knowingly subject myself to and that’s a designer fast fashion collaboration launch. I’ll fight for my rights. I’ll fight for survival in the zombie apocalypse. But, I cannot and will not fight for a designer x retailer sweatshirt.

And then I got invited to the Alexander Wang x H&M Press Shopping event on Wednesday, the 5th, a day before the collection actually dropped. It was an opportunity to shop the collaboration early, with other industry professionals but without the mayhem. I was there.

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What to Wear to Work Tomorrow Courtesy the Kardashians


Work is the weekend’s waiting room. You literally live there until Saturday. Home is just a storage unit for clean underwear – and clothes, because there are only a handful of jobs that let you work with your “junk” out.

I’ve never followed “what to wear to work tomorrow” shopping guides because, 1. it says tomorrow but actually reads 8 – 10 days from tomorrow because that’s how long shipping takes; and 2. because I dress more by mood and level of fatigue than anything else. So with the help of America’s most famous working women, the Kardashians, here is the only W2W2WT guide you’ll ever need to ride that Monday through Friday emotional roller coaster in style.

Before Instagram There Was Imagination


We edit memories more than we do pictures. That makes imagination the first photo editor. We add a special glow to highlight our favorite reels or soften the painful ones. And we opt to view some things completely in black and white. So all the articles blaming Instagram for eroding our self-worth warrant a little revisionist history since we’ve been doing the same thing since we could color.

As a kid, you imagined your mom, but you drew a head with arms and legs coming out of its chin, and you were probably disappointed with that anatomically incorrect human. Years later, imagination was the culprit when you thought you’d blossom in high school, but spent 4 years feeling like a mutant. And I don’t need a head count of how many landed their ideal job only to discover it was a battle for our soul on middle earth and the only defense against absolute boredom was to staple our eyelids open to a cubicle wall.

I’d just admire my Christian Lacroix note cards, which I bought instead of sending a “Hello” email because that would’ve been way too simple. (And if I could get Christian Lacroix to personally hand deliver it wrapped in tulle and tied to the back of a kitten, I damn sure would too.)

The road to hell on earth is paved with good imagination.

But what’s the alternative — no imagination? I’d rather ride shotgun in Kanye’s man cleavage transcribing his rants all day. We got our gluten under control without even knowing what it is, we should definitely be able to put our creative thinking on a diet and rein in our mental lunacy within reason.

Conveniently, all the same things that apply to a food diet apply to a mental diet. Like less daydreaming and more night dreaming because the more rested we are the more energized and productive we can be about accomplishing goals instead of just fantasizing about them. Or going outside and being more active, which keeps our mind from idly imagining how happier we should be. I imagine that’s suppose to like the people in one of those famous beach vollyball herpes commercials…and the beach is in the Hamptons.

By that logic, the road to heaven on earth is paved with good imagination and even better action.

Let’s Pick a Halloween Costume…But Not Try That Hard

lazy halloween-bat-wings-model-bat-drawing-2

Everyday is Halloween in New York, and not because pink hair and nose piercings are abound in this Gotham. It’s because establishing your career is a suspense thriller, dating is a psychological thriller, and rent is the big bad boogieman under your bed — the only thing you’ll have left if you can’t pay it. So when October 31st finally creeps around, it’s less about haunting houses and more about flaunting it downtown.

I can vaguely remember going out in NYC a few Halloweens, and they might not even be Halloweens at all. Those might have been New Years Eves, which says a lot about my NYEs, unfortunately, if I can mix them up with the scariest night of the year. But, assuming my previous Halloweens spent stalking the city were forgotten because they were forgettable — and not because I wanted to un-see whatever I saw or because of a calcium deficiency from my advancing age — I want to put a little more effort into having a memorable, monster night out this year, starting with the costume.

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Don’t Fall for Boots Just Yet


Yea, yea, yea, Fall. Boots. Amazing. You can’t troll the internet right now without tripping over at least a dozen fall boot shopping guides – short ones, tall ones. Leather ones, pleather ones. But I’m not ready for boots. And this has nothing to do with being in denial about the cold weather coming on, like that one year I wore ripped jeans and a tweed blazer all through winter because I didn’t believe in coats or death and illness. This opt out is about options.

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