I’ve always felt a connection to street style, but I’ve certainly come a long way from khaki pants and Tommy Hilfiger polo shirts.  Though the style of 90′s hip hop and R&B  stars has made a comeback, this time around it’s a bit more modern and just as luxurious as its original incarnation.  The pants are more fitted (for both men and women) and there’s a bit more polish than there is posh.  Rap stars are taking styling cues from Vogue more than Vibe and many have become covergirls and trendsetters for all genres of music and social scenes.  Not only are they making hits on the airwaves, many have taken to the runways.  Never has fashion and music been so intertwined.

hat: custom, top: Truly Madly Deeply, coat: vintage, jeans: 7 for All Mankind, shoes: Nike, bag: Alexander Wang, rings: Erica Anenberg, watch: Michael Kors

xx,

WhyDid

photos by Catherine Sampietro

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So, I guess the nineties are back.  And I guess you know I’m going to be wearing a crop top until the bitter end.  And by bitter end, I mean a February snowstorm.  I plan on riding that trend like the Lone Ranger rode Silver.  I work very hard for those toned abs, just ask Jenn.  This outfit combines many of my very favorite items.  A flannel shirt that was my mother’s and you may recognize, a crop top, a bralette, acid washed jeans (that contain -2% spandex), and the little black bootie.  It’s as if I threw all my favorite things into a crock pot, let them simmer, and came out with the world’s most delicious outfit– kind of like mulled wine.

shirt: vintage (similar here), top: Brandy Melville, bralette: Cosabella, jeans: 7 for All Mankind (similar here), booties: Brian Atwood, bag: Alexander Wang, dog: Smitty

xx,

WhyDid

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To quote Gary Janetti:

It’s Fashion Week in New York in case you were looking for a place to be cunty and anorexic the next couple of days.

— Gary Janetti (@GaryJanetti) September 7, 2013

While some rejoice in what is New York Fashion Week, others hide out and wait for the terror to dissipate.  This is the week wherein you will experience the greatest case of FOMO ever. You’re going to get shamed for not having been at the best shows, best parties, and the best after parties, let alone the after after parties.  If you are not a celebrity or a rapper, you are no longer relevant in New York City.  Take a seat, sister.  Long gone are the days when Fashion Week was meant solely for buyers, editors, and actual fashion elite.  Now it’s a peacock showing of who’s who… or not anyone at all.

So, brace yourselves, New Yorkers, we’ve almost made it through.  Cover your eyes and I’ll see you at the next non fashion related event and will most certainly show you some of the moves we learned at our Vixen Workout.

xx,

WhyDid

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I love winter shorts, but this is yet another style gamble that you can lose the house on.  When executed properly, the look is young, playful, and a great way to get more wear out of your favorite shorts.  However, when you roll the dice and lose, the stares you’re going to get on the street won’t be those of admiration.  They’ll be looks of horror, possibly pity, and most likely secondhand embarrassment.  You know, the same look you had when you informed the girl seated at the table next to you that she had a toilet paper tail.  Oh, that was just us?  Anyway, many moons ago, I put together some winter shorts guidelines that still hold true to this day.  So, go ahead and hold off on stashing your short shorts for just a little while longer.

hat: Urban Outfitters, t-shirt: American Apparel, sweater: Henri Bendel (similar here), shorts: c/o Cult of Individuality, tights: HUE, bag: Alexander Wang, boots: All Saints (similar here)

Later.

xx,

WhyDid

Photo Credit: Michael Stiegler

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When I first came to New York, it was a very different place.  I spent the summer as an intern at Escada, living in a sublet studio apartment on West 49th Street.  Other than sleeping and going to work, I didn’t spend much time in that neighborhood known as Hell’s Kitchen.  The majority of my first Manhattan adventures happened right where I live today.   Back when the Meatpacking District lived up to its illustrious moniker, we stepped over pools of blood and hunks of meat in our stilettos before making it to our final destination.  During that time, before Buddha Bar moved in and skyrocketed the rent, our friends and designers had their studios on Little West 12th Street, which is where more than many of our New York City nights began.  We’d drink and dance and swap out our Midwestern garb for the stylings of our fashionable friends.  When the clock struck midnight, we didn’t head home like Cinderella.  That’s when our evening began.  This was the era when rubbing elbows with an Olsen and sitting down to rest your feet only to find Roberto Cavalli seated beside you was commonplace.  Unlike LA, no one here bothered to bat an eyelash. (more…)

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