On The Street: Metallic Stripes

Stripes usually give us the urge to go sailing—or at the very least stuff a crispy baguette under one arm—but this silver lining points to a retro-fashion future not seen since the days of Paco Rabanne and his sheet metal dresses, destined to be worn again in the year 2020.
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On The Street – East Village

On a sunny weekday afternoon, we tripped down to the East Village to find out what happens when perennially soaked and chilled New Yorkers unfurl their body parts towards the great yellow sun.

On The Street at Capsule 2009

The Capsule tradeshow in New York is a rare opportunity for the dudes of independent fashion to get their shine on. Contributing style editor Mobolaji Dawodu caught up with some of the most dapper gents at the show last week, including Mjolk designer Lars Stoten.

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On The Street: SoHo

Sometimes it’s best to let the accessories take the lead, put your best foot forward and build an entire outfit around the best bag/hat/watch you have in your closet. This lady we found strolling in SoHo last week manages to keep that ball rolling from her hat right down to her toes. The weathered beaten leather satchel—quite clearly the pièce de résistance here—is so perfect, it might as well grow legs and carry itself down the street.

On The Street: Partying with April 77 at The Jane

  • story Alex Frank

The Jane Hotel was an early 20th century haunt for sailors and seamen, and now it’s a spot for a different kind of hard-living, big-drinking bunch. Archetype Showroom and April77’s party at the recently renovated hotel was a tad fancier than the hull of a ship, but the revelry and vodka chugging around Jane’s lush couches and potted ferns was definitely like an Old World throwback. Re-imagining that seafaring past in nautical stripes and summer whites is obviously the stylee way to go, even though some of the crowd were probably more yacht club than navy yard.

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FADER TV: On The Street – LES

On a sunny weekday afternoon, we tripped down to the Lower East Side to find out what happens when perennially soaked and chilled New Yorkers unfurl their body parts towards the great yellow sun.