This fashion post is a bit more gritty than usual. But that’s because it’s reflective of the place I’m in with fashion. When I lived in London, UK, I was inspired by the street side of fashion. I wore brighter colours, statement tees and sneakers, and lots of gold chains. These days, I’m not really into the chains as before, but I still, like Jean-Paul Gaultier, take inspiration from the street. I haven’t had a chance to view any runway shows in a while, but I’ll see if we’re in synch.
A few weeks ago I was store browsing for a winter jacket. I walked into one called Lavish & Squalor – a place I’ve never bought from, but am keen on. To my delight, I came across a really beautiful and snug-fitting winter jacket that was too good to be true. But I also came across an even more intriguing vision – the Sales Associate, Omari. Well, more like, I zoomed in on this absolutely fabulous beaded necklace he was wearing and the non-chalance in how he wore it. A couple weeks later I saw him again, hoody, jacket, combat boots and that marvelous necklace. Then, I met with a friend of mine – a guy, who also sported the chain with this reckless abandon. But his was embellished with a large cross. Thuggish, but oh so captivating! When I asked him about it, he simply said “This is the days of Tribe Called Quest.” And it got me thinking.
I remember in the early `90s when hip hop was bright. Florescent Malcolm X attire, statement accessories, oversized clothing. Fashion in the urban world was coming out of the mess that was stonewash jeans, bad haircuts and jheri curls (well, Ice Cube carried that into the `90s). But we were finding ways to incorporate our roots into our sense of individuality. And that necklace, during the times of the 5% nation, nuwabians and Zulu Nation as it was called, was a very bold and opposing statement to that of the bling.
I have to have this necklace. By the looks of it, I can make it myself.
Another note to self: I think Kanye West is my dream man.