Hard Love

February 25, 2019

Almost everything in today’s culture is dripping in fantasy—subway ads of faraway beaches, superhero blockbusters, stories of billion dollar ballers on yachts. High fashion, more often than not, seems to be all about transforming into the intangible and inspiring a serious case of FOMO for everyone, so they buy whatever it is they lack. Our surroundings try to constantly convince us that we should be daydreaming of better, crazier, wilder existences, that we need to escape our boring, ordinary truths.

But our truths are far from ordinary—they’re actually magical and messy as fuck. And it’s in those grimy details in which the most radical culture is born. Just like Hardeman F/W ’19, a surrealist take on love, sexuality and the “messiness of lived experience.”

Text by Antoripa Dey
Photos by Diane Campclaude
Styling by Merle van der Wal
Hair by Luxelab using L'Oreal Pro
Models: Sarah, Ika & Meme

If baby boomer’s gave us the nuclear family and Lil Wayne taught us how to love, then Hardeman is gifting us with a collection for the counter-public of lovers fully embracing their intimacies, warts and all. Picture something like an urban cowboy rocking acid-washed denim and a bouquet of roses while exposing the falsehoods of the American dream. With models blowing smoke clouds in red fur trim denim, the campaign, shot by Diane Campclaude, is Hardeman’s “brutal rejection” of comfortable norms and a personal invitation into the “obscene events that love occludes.”

Sticking to the Dutch designer’s unorthodox style, the collection, which is titled Hard Love, obviously, will not be presented in a show like last season's presentation at NYFW. Instead, Hardeman will debut a series of performances around the globe, with the first taking place in LA on March 30.

Find love with Hardeman, and view the campaign below.

Find out more about the brand and upcoming presentations here.

Fashion

Speaking Style and Sound with Lucky Daye

April 19, 2024

The dynamic relationship between fashion and music has constantly intertwined to craft cultural narratives and define identities. The two have always gone hand in hand and so festivals in particular continue to provide a world where melodies meet threads at a captivating intersection.

Before heading west for Coachella, perhaps the most renowned of festivals, we visited adidas's New York headquarters to witness Lucky Daye bless a lucky handful with an intimate acoustic performance. While there we were able to sit down with Lucky, as he donned a classic full tracksuit, and dissect his relationship with music and fashion and how they coexist in his creative process. A week later, as day turned to night in the California desert and the temperature switched up, so did the outfits.

Interview and photos by Dylan Andrews
Main image courtesy of BFA / Zack Hilty

How's your day been?

It's been good, it's been good. It's been great.

When did you get in?

Australian time or American time [laughs]?

I'm from Australia, so you can give me both.

For real?

Yeah I grew up in Perth.

We just left Australia. We landed like two days ago and then we came out here. I think I got here today maybe? Yeah, today 5:00 am.

Damn, the early flight.

The no sleep flight.

Who'd you grow up listening to?

Well from zero to eleven I grew up listening to whatever I had to listen to make my mama happy. But when I was able to listen to music, I went backwards and I listened to, vocally for Stevie Wonder because I admire his voice. I listened and watched a lot of Michael Jackson because I admired the way he could entertain. I felt like D’Angelo was sexy and all of that so I was watching him and Ginuwine. I just felt I liked anything that… I don't want to say 'simple', but when I was little I was always looking for something that made me feel alive or made me feel anything.

So you took different parts from different artists, like the entertainment of Michael Jackson, the sound of Stevie Wonder, that sort of thing?

Yeah, his vocal ability, the tone of D’Angelo, Bill Withers. Even to this day, I'm still learning. I listen to Usher, I'm one of Usher's biggest fans. When he got into the Super Bowl was crazy. But I listen to everybody, but the main person I would say is probably Stevie Wonder.

How do you feel like growing up in New Orleans affected your sound?

Well, New Orleans is a jazz place. So when you think jazz, you just think a gumbo pot of stuff, just a jumble of all types of stuff. And down there it's not too many rules because the rules are kind of misconstrued and mixed up. So my sound is basically that. I'm big on not being conformed into a box and using everything that I have to make a mixture or potion of who Lucky Daye is every time I do an album. And this one is a whole new vibe.

Did growing up there affect your style, the way you dress, the way you present yourself, carry yourself?

Definitely. Being in New Orleans, we was poor, so I had a lot of hand-me-downs and I think that definitely affected, it taught me how to put stuff together that people that knew how to buy expensive stuff couldn't see. So I was able to wear whatever and figure out how to make that look good or wear shoes that was too big, and then wear a jacket that's too big too to make it look like it fit.

Was there anyone you looked up to style-wise for inspiration?

Nah, I just got all my big brother’s clothes.

There wasn't someone that had you like, ‘damn, I want to dress like that'?

Nah. I couldn't get that stuff.

What about moving to Atlanta? Did that affect your sound and the way you dressed or was that already established by the time you moved there?

Nah, pretty much in Atlanta, I didn't really care about fashion too much. I never cared about being attractive. I never thought I was attractive until my music came out and people were like, “oh, you sexy.” So in my mind still, I don't grasp the idea of it, but I do grasp the idea of beauty and art as far as the clothes. And Atlanta, it showed me a different expression. Everybody was just doing what they wanted to do.

Everything would be kind of baggy and then you'll go over here and everything is kind of tight. Then you'll go over here and this dude will make a girl shirt look masculine. And then that became something else like, okay, I don't have to use the hand-me-downs to mix stuff up. I can mix all types of stuff. Everything goes. In New Orleans, you can't mix Adidas and something else. In Atlanta you could do that. You could throw anything together. So that expanded my brand sense I think. And once I got to LA, using that along with the hand-me-downs conscious of just throwing stuff together, and all the thrift stores they have around, I learned how to put stuff together in my own unique way.

Obviously you got on the tracksuit now. Are you usually dressing for comfort or style or it’s a mix?

I never dress for comfort. I like a challenge and I guess feeling like something hurts me makes me feel like I'm making progress or it is a challenge or something I have to fight through. I never go on stage comfortable. And if I do go on stage comfortable, it's probably with no shirt at all. If I'm not wearing something fly… like, this Adidas, this is crazy. I would throw this on stage, take a shirt off from underneath and just be as comfortable as I want to be on stage. But on stage I'm not concerned about comfort too much. If it hurts, it's going to hurt tomorrow because of this momentum feeling, I don't feel nothing. I don't feel nothing on stage.

How do you feel like your style and what you're wearing influences your creativity, your mood, how you're feeling that day? Do you feel like that's an extension of your creativity?

It's definitely an exterior expression of what I feel inside. I try to let the music speak for itself. So every album, if I'm singing something that's kind of uplifting, I wear something uplifting or singing something sexy, I'll just wear… I may have my back cut out here or back cut out there.

You’ll do the backless?

Oh, I've done the backless. Don't judge me.

Nah, that's what’s up. I’ve always said the best dressed men blur that line between masculinity and femininity.

But honestly, remembering my childhood, the only brand that I wore was adidas because it was there, it was everywhere. The shell toes. We just ran it like that.

The shell toes was an iconic era.

And especially in Atlanta, it's a thing out there. Yeah. So that's when I really got tapped into adidas in Atlanta. So I know a lot about adidas. I'm a style head. I'm a fashion head. I know about the two brothers, I have the big adidas book, I know about how they started it.

That’s cool because a lot of people be putting brands on and have no idea about the history.

I'm into it because I really do love fashion and if I want to be comfortable, I'm putting on adidas. They have the best tracksuits. You've never seen nobody with a tracksuit that could beat adidas. Even in the A’ everywhere. All the dope boys got ‘em. They got it.

Yeah?

Yeah, they got ‘em. That's how you know.

Fashion

Can Indie Sleaze be Black?

April 19, 2024

What people are now calling Indie Sleaze (a term coined on TikTok in 2021), was characterized by flash party photography (à la Terry Richardson or Cobrasnake), skimpy clothes, and a grungy, sloppy overall style that felt as if people just threw whatever on to leave the house. Perfect-imperfection was in: smudged liner, messy hair, dingy clothes — people just didn’t seem to give a shit, or at least, wanted to be perceived as such. However, somehow, the era became associated with skinny white girls (Sky Ferreira, Cory Kennedy, Kate Moss) and with whiteness overall.

Photography Sophia Wilson
Text Sahir Ahmed
Styling Gigi Fernandez
Hair John Novotny
Makeup Asami Matsuda
Nails Marbles
Prop Stylist Milena Gorum
Lighting Bando Abreu
Production Raquel Michel
Styling assistant Yasmen Tiby, Jessica Andersonn
Prop assistant Crystal Geller
Production assistant Sophie Collongette
Models: Alanna Arrington, Aŋëër Amol, Vanessa Sarah Maria Strauss
And a special thanks to WSA NYC and La Esquina

Aŋëër wears top and skirt by MINDBLOWN, shoes by AMAZON

Born in 2000, photographer Sophia Wilson, who started shooting and working professionally at just 12 years old, describes her work as Indie Sleaze because “that’s just what photography was during that time.” Yet, being so young and “one of the only Black female photographers” in the space, she feels her work didn't get enough appreciation. She says, "I think there’s something to be said about growing up in the original era of Indie Sleaze and being part of that original wave and seeing it become so trendy again.”

Sophia continues, “Looking at Indie Sleaze now made me realize how white it is as an aesthetic. I think about the aesthetic and these skinny white girls come to mind, but I don’t think at the core of it, that’s what Indie Sleaze needs to be. For me, it’s about the bright flash, the tones, the pops of color, the poses and the fashion.” Together we created these images to pose the question “Can Indie Sleaze be Black?” and below chat about specific references (Coyote Ugly, Spring Breakers), Indie Sleaze’s resurgence, and even evolution, as something everyone can be a part of.

Aŋëër wears top and skirt by MINDBLOWN, shoes by AMAZON

Alanna wears top by OTTOLINGER, shoes by DAVID KOMA; Alanna wears jacket and bra by SEKS, panty hose by AMAZON, shoes by R13, Aŋëër wears top and skirt by MINDBLOWN, shoes by AMAZON, Sarah wears full look MASHA POPOVA

office — So how would you describe Indie Sleaze?

Sophia Wilson — I think that traditionally the elements of Indie Sleaze are skimpy clothes, bright flash, so corny that it's not corny.

So bad that it's not bad.

Exactly. You have to be in it to understand it. Otherwise, it looks insane. I think about kow-rise, skinny, torn-up jeans, cigarettes, whatever was on Tumblr.

Coyote Ugly.

I would even say Spring Breakers, or old-school Brooke Shields movies.

Yeah, it's all the same vibe, really.

Sarah wears top and shoes by DSQUARED2, shorts and hat by AMAZON, Aŋëër wears corset, panties, shawl by ROOM SERVICE, shoes and socks by AMAZON

Any clothing references? I say anything that looks like it costs $10 from a thrift even if it’s Hedi Slimane’s Saint Laurent.

Yeah like Abercrombie & Fitch, all of those ads. Maybe even Brandy Melville. It’s crazy because Brandy was so popular and trending in that era. I feel like I was the first kid ever to go to Brandy Melville, and then all of a sudden I was shooting for Brandy Melville. I was a Brandy Melville photographer when I was 12, and now so many years have passed. Then, all of that crazy shit about Brandy Melville comes out. Everybody knew it was a one-size-fits-all, you had to be skinny to shop Brandy. Now there are so many documentaries and articles about the mistreatment and the racism but all of sudden, all of the club kids and Dimes kids are unironically shopping Brandy Melville.

Right. Almost like the slate’s been wiped clean. It’s interesting because, with the original era, people were adopting an aesthetic and styles based on the ’80s and ‘90s. This iteration of ‘Indie Sleaze’ is copying the ‘00s and ‘10s. It’s really funny. Like sneaker heels, hello? Back then it was lowkey cringe, now it’s so hot.

Yep. Isn't that insane? Oh, also a lot of leather and fur. Brands like Diesel and DSQUARED2 are making comebacks because of this. Or even how Miu Miu has leaned into this bright-flash/quirky style with the nerdy glasses and super, super mini skirts. It almost reminds me of Abercrombie, but in the best way.

Or black eyeliner under the eye, tramp stamps. It’s all coming back. What were some of the elements you tried to incorporate?

I did a lot of searching through my old Tumblr and found so many accounts from the 2010s. The photo in the series where all their hair is braided together was a reference from when I was 11 or 12 using Instagram. I remember that being a trend, and beyond that, I asked myself the question, “Is Indie Sleaze inherently tied to whiteness and skinniness, or are people just misinterpreting it?” I’ve never really seen Indie Sleaze on Black people before and honestly, I don’t know if it’s going to stray so far away from the aesthetic that it just no longer is… but I focused a lot on cooler tones than warmer, high contrast, skimpy clothes, long, dramatic hair.

Tumblr was so crazy. The original moodboard, now it’s Pinterest but we should bring Tumblr back.

So insane. I would not be surprised if Tumblr had a revival.

It is interesting how the original era coincided with an economic recession (2008) and its resurgence came out of this post-pandemic period where everyone’s depressed and talks about an impending recession keep surfacing. Ultimately, it’s still about indulgence and ignoring your problems.

Exactly.

And in the era we’re living in, there are so many more Black people represented in mainstream media so it’s inevitable that there’s more representation in this interpretation of the aesthetic.

Exactly. And I’d go as far as saying that Indie Sleaze was originally invented by Black People and they never got the spotlight on it. They got excluded from it, and it feels very intentional.

Right. I think about how popular it was amongst rock bands and the exclusionary atmosphere that exists in that realm.

Totally. And so much of the makeup aesthetics were very much from Black people: the big lips, big eyes, even getting your edges done, I see white girls doing it now.

Yeah, that’s crazy.

I think that this photo series proves that Indie Sleaze can be Black, and I don't know why it's only been associated with white, skinny people. It can be on anybody, and I hope that encourages people to take up a lot more space. That said, it has changed, party photography is so much more diverse. It’s refreshing to see. Taking it a step further is proving that anybody can adopt this aesthetic.