Tag: style

on nickel + allergies + the unfortunate combination of the two

What happens when you develop a physical intolerance to your wardrobe? On bondage gear fate and hopeless metal sensitivities, a taste of my latest piece, “Allergic to Fashion,” on the Style Con: “It appeared that my nickel allergy was (quite literally) itching to thwart my accessory style, namely my bondage gear, cc: harness collection, and hence, debilitating my layering game. But what does a fiend do in such an, okay, less literal bind when it...

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why not… plaster your face in papier mache?

DIRECTIONS: -Wrap head in plastic wrap. RECOMMENDED: Industrial-sized Cling Classic. -Adapt to lifestyle sans air. -Ask a discriminating preschooler to papier mache your skull. Bribe with gummy candy that you will no longer physically be capable of consuming. BONUS: Is child enrolled in Chelsea-based art daycare and/or descended from esteemed art collector/dealer? Ask for personal fingerprint indentations for investment purposes. -Let dry. -Frustrated, preferably on a gallery night Thursday, dig into papier mache just over...

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a freelance recap

Fresh off my informal writing sabbatical in which I 1) quit my day job and 2) reformulated my life, I present an informal relaunch, plus recap on the self-effacing, cynical fashion criticism we left off on, because I missed initial contribution to both #normcore and that Kimye Vogue cover, and I’ve really genuinely pined after that unique self-employed opportunity to brush Uncle Eddy’s vegan cookie crumbs off my keyboard while sifting through eBay “research.” So without further ado,...

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public relations, november 2013

Are you currently residing in the People’s Republic of China? Do you subscribe to Self China? Do you read Vogue.com, or better yet, look at its conglomeration of Phil Oh-lensed street style photographs circa the proper noun that is Paris Fashion Week? If you answered yes to either question, congratulations, you can skip reading this as I direct you to something more worth your time, like NPR, or perhaps the Yohji Yamamoto section of Yahoo Japan....

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doll parts

This Halloween I realized a bizarre style evolution, in which my choice of clothing is currently based off of a high-ranking macabre level and worn only when I’ve fully imagined the creepy character a look can recall, see: serial killing school girl, shipwrecked prostitute, turn-of-the-century ghost nurse, dead clown bride, pervy ’70s teacher- all recent looks in my stable of Instagram #ootds. Naturally, I simultaneously attribute this to a lifelong love affair with the October...

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