Fashion & Style

I take photos of everything: my day-to-day’s and special occasions, the mundane and the extraordinary, moments when I’m grounded and happy, and times when I want to fly away. All of it. Photography has always been a channel through which I’ve been able to escape the constraints of reality, to access a creative realm in which I can feel a bit freer.

This week in particular has made me feel trapped within my tasks and weighed down by my responsibilities. I’ve wanted nothing more than to break free from the invisible chain that ties me to my desk, dive back in time into summer, and swim away. So, in the spirit of escape and nostalgia, (and a manic case of the Mondays), I dug back into the archives to see what imagery I had locked away in my laptop to plunge into.

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Sifting through my albums, I made my way through hundreds of photos: from snapshots of my morning latte art, to glimpses of my lunchtime strolls in Midtown, selfies with friends on a night out, to portraits of my feet planted by beds of roses in the West Village. And of course, my gallery from New York Fashion Week – a spectacle unlike anything I had experienced before. A mere few days that made me fall in love with New York City, spring, summer, and, well, clothing, all over again. (Who knew sequins and stilettos could characterize the seasons more perfectly than the cycle of nature itself?)

Monse, J. Mendell, Marchesa, Alice and Olivia, Oscar De La Renta, and my favorite, Philipp Plein. You could say I attended a diverse mix of shows – ranging from ultra-feminine pastel gowns to embroidered whips and chains transformed into high fashion manifestos. I guess the world of fashion has no bounds.

As I looked through my library, reliving my peeks backstage and my moments of awe beside the runway, I discovered a theme that I didn’t notice in person. The ideals of discord, cacophony, and inconsistency, a lack of fluidity, and the motif of “hard versus soft” seamlessly merged to tell an unexpected narrative – a beautiful love story that pieced together before my eyes, from a new perspective in the screen in front of me.

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Monse staged its runway on a basketball court, sent out jersey-inspired dresses made out of sparkling sequins and crystals, and paired athletic gear with couture. The opposing forces of high-fashion and sportswear bounced off of one another and created a thread of innovative creations.

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Marchesa brought a fairytale to life in the most un-fairytale-like setting. Opulent gowns, rich pastels, dancing chiffon, and lush florals bloomed beautifully in an entirely black, industrial warehouse that was converted into a runway. (Talk about opposites attracting, and so stunningly.)

Oscar De La Renta constructed paint splatter out of embroidered beads on blazers that kissed the ground. All the colors of the rainbow and all its shades between wove together into easy cocktail silhouettes, short shorts, fitted t-shirts, baggy button-downs, and dramatic gowns that could shimmer from a world away.

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

De La Renta’s palette was as chaotic as it was cohesive – but oddly enough, that lack of cohesion brought a fluidity to the collection. Most of its pieces had nothing to do with one another, and that’s what strung them all together. Their striking differences were a harmonizing force, translating such dissonance into a realm of towering high fashion. Lastly, before Bella Hadid and her army of mannequins came to life with the catwalk, they descended down a shining metallic escalator that led to the runway.

Who knew such a sterile, modern construct could serve as the perfect backdrop for such an organic, raw, vibrant, warm collection of clothes?

And of course, our master of ceremonies: Philipp Plein dreamed up a world where chains, whips, chokers, skulls, rips, bare skin, distressed denim, and quilted leather are graceful and romantic – a collection as electrifying and shocking as it was passionate and full of life. But the most powerful moment of all were his cages. In classic Plein fashion, our dare devil mastermind sent a handful of models down the runway with rigid black cages fitted around their bodies – all placed over soft flowing gowns from their necks to their knees. By audaciously placing such a harsh object over smooth, liquid-like dresses, Plein married two opposing elements, and with such harmony. He wrote a love story that his models brought to life as they infused romantic fluidity into a symbol of unwavering rigidity. They made those cages move and I was in awe.

Image courtesy of Vogue.com

Ironically enough, these images spoke to the reason I decided to explore my photos in the first place – to escape those moments that make me feel like I am being caged – whether that cage is a challenging Monday, day-to-day tasks at work, or responsibilities that come with being an adult that can make us all feel confined and limited. But more importantly, they made me see my limitations through a refreshed lens and approach the discord in my day from a different headspace.

Just as Adriana Lima assertively and unapologetically strutted down that Plein runway in a flowing gown, moving the cage strapped around her body, we too can find some flexibility in the cages of our daily lives and seek strength and beauty through their holes. I always thought we must overcome life’s limitations, but as it seems, maybe the smarter move is to reshape them.

Image courtesy of Vogue.com

Of course, this discussion is figurative, but it stems from a place of authentic truth; if we apply Plein’s show to the contexts of our lives, we discover that the struggles we face don’t have to restrain or define us. Life doesn’t have to be so linear. Our daily cages – the moments of dreary responsibility and discomfort we experience – can serve as opportunities for innovation, inspiration, liberation, and self-discovery. Perhaps we can even reinterpret those things that make us feel restricted and allow them to empower us – to be even more passionate and confident in our actions and our perspectives.

As it seems, therefore, New York Fashion Week was more than just a parade of elegant clothing, glamorous shows, mile-long runways, and supermodels. In retrospect, the week was a call to action to embrace the dissonance in the palettes of our lives, to seek cohesiveness within the chaos, to unveil the harmony that lies within contrast, to make bold choices, and to tap into that fiery, confident place within us to bend the cages around us.

Whether we’re walking in a fashion show, watching one by the runway, or reliving one behind our desks at work, we all can find some flexibility in life’s restrictions. Perhaps when we embrace those limitations and seek a potential for growth and beauty within them, that is when we see the most clearly, thrive the most triumphantly, and allow the bent traces of our cages to become our greatest accessory.

Photographed by Daniel Gabbay

For years, popular culture has placed fashion high up on a pedestal – and with good reason. Whether we’re talking about the craft that is ready-to-wear or the art form that is couture, the pieces we see and wear are mostly products of meticulous, stunningly imaginative visions that have been brought to life – patch by patch, stitch by stitch – that deserve our praise.

Yet, as fashion has continued to evolve, the scene around the industry has become more and more saturated; our perceptions of the craft behind the clothing seem to have reached an extreme. Now, as I’ve begun working in the social, digital landscape of the industry, I especially see, firsthand, how seriously people take fashion and view clothing as untouchable and even godly.

But even as highly as some designs are hailed on the catwalk, we interpret fashion and bring its pieces into the contexts of everyday life by wearing them. Whether on the rack or off the runway, our clothes become a part of us, and become extraordinarily, well, ordinary.

Coach, America’s sweetheart of the fashion industry, has just released its newest collection featuring the brand’s new mascot, Rexy The Coach Dinosaur. As I passed by the Coach boutique on Fifth Avenue on my way to work this past week, all of the designs in the windows proudly displayed the cartoon dinosaur – on cashmere sweaters, suede backpacks, leather key chains, and almost every other piece of clothing or accessory that was there.

I had some time to spare before my daily morning conference call. With a hint of a smile, I made my way through the store’s glass doors to quickly browse the collection. I was pleasantly stunned at how Coach’s high-end ready-to-wear featured the design of a dinosaur – a charmingly mundane symbol that takes me back to cartoons I used to watch, stories I used to read, and coloring books I used to draw in, as a little boy. Now, this speck from my childhood has been blown up into a full-fledged collection on Fifth Avenue that people across the country have added to their wardrobes.

With the birth of Rexy, Coach has found a happy medium in an industry of extremes that can take itself a little too seriously: a balance between elegance, quality, style, and luxury, and vibrant design, playfulness, and creativity – all infused with a spirited sense of nostalgia.

So, dare I say it, maybe fashion is more grounded, personable, and “un-untouchable” than we might think – and maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Holiday collections and window displays aside, perhaps Coach’s beloved Rexy is telling us that it’s okay to be playful and childish, while remaining elegant at the same time, in any context.

Perhaps there’s even a need in this time we’re living in, to weave some colorful life and humor into the fabric of our daily lives, to seek that space within us and around us that makes us smile, and to embrace it – in our wardrobes, and in our hearts.

“Wear your heart on your sleeve,” they say. This simple phrase has charmingly followed suit in the collection of clichés we use to refer to love on a daily basis. When it comes to romance and affection, the age-old saying is a cheerful call to action to expose our emotions – leaving us unguarded in our search for love.

If you ask me, this point of view is quite hopeful and idealistic. By wearing our hearts on our “sleeves,” we convey our emotions and thoughts freely and openly to others. And by doing so, we’re meant to welcome the chance to find love.

Here, The City That Never Sleeps, as it’s called, is brimming with hearts that never stop beating and hopeless romantics that never stop dreaming. Trust me, I know; I’m one of them. I wholeheartedly embrace the prospect of romance and I admire the promise of the “sleeve” saying – to be vulnerable in hopes of finding another sleeve to lock arms with.

But living in New York City has also shown me the necessity to be shrewd and wise – in love and in life. As dreamy and magical as New York City is, as easy as it might be to spark romance with another person here, the “concrete jungle” is still concrete after all – beautiful to look at, but hard when you fall. And that’s why New York City is the perfect place to think about when talking about the striking delicacy of love.

So, while I’m all for being vulnerable and candid in pursuit of affection, perhaps it’s more fitting to wear our hearts on our feet than on our sleeves. Symbolically speaking, when we wear our hearts on our feet, they’re still exposed for others to see, leaving us open to finding romance. But, at the same time, this strategic placement gives us more agency and control as we play in the risky game of love.

Now, in this way, rather than leaving our hearts on our sleeves, dangling helplessly and susceptible to being torn, we’re able to run with our hearts – to tread away from someone who might break your heart, or leap towards someone who would foster it.

Of course, this discussion is figurative and more lighthearted than it is serious. (After all, my Comme De Garcons high-top Converse sneakers with red hearts on them are what inspired me to write this piece.) But whether we’re talking about shoes or romance, the same sentiment remains: Wear your heart on your feet – beautifully free for others to see and open to finding love, but in a position where you’re also able to run, be quick on your feet (quite literally), stay smart, and stride towards what serves you well in this crazy world of romance.

…Because being in love is a beautiful thing. But just because we’re hopeless romantics doesn’t mean we can’t be smart romantics too.

American designer Ralph Lauren once said, “I don’t design clothes. I design dreams.” And judging by my whimsically vibrant Denim and Supply top that Mr. Lauren himself designed, I agree.

Fashion is transformative and beholds the same reviving power that dreams do. When you put something really beautiful on, you feel something. The simple sight of a bold color or a dynamic pattern on your body can elevate you from your ordinary reality into a realm of elegance and vivacity. Simply stated, slipping on a distinct piece of clothing can rejuvenate the person wearing it – like a dream.

But if my boldly patterned top has taught me anything, it’s that fashion does not solely uplift the person wearing it; clothing can also boost the spirits of those who lay their eyes on you in your outfit.

Whenever I wear this particular top – no matter where I am or what I’m doing – people I know and strangers alike notice me. I always spot their eyes light up and their frowns turn into smiles when they see the boldly vibrant pattern on my shirt that’s as intricate as it is colorful – as if their world has been lacking the cherry red or cobalt blue draped around my back.

Perhaps fashion introduces the space for us to be colorful dreamers in a world of neutrals – where the clothes we wear enable us to add some vibrancy to our surroundings. And if making people smile, even just for a moment, is as easy as wearing a uniquely colorful top, then maybe the world is a simpler place than we thought.

So, thank you Ralph Lauren – dream on.

Denim & Supply by Ralph Lauren – ralphlauren.com

Baseball is undeniably a pastime definitive of our national culture. Emblematic of victory, our country’s history, and the enthusiastic pride we take in athletic competition, the baseball glove itself serves as an American sports icon.

I am by no means your classic sports enthusiast, but I appreciate the culture rooted in athleticism – abundant with fan excitement, team camaraderie, and memories of the game that we all take away with us. Although the extent of my participation at a baseball game merely reaches the edges of the sidelines, I have worn a baseball glove before for an amateur game of catch, as I’m sure we all have at some point in our lives. We’ve all slipped our fingers through the mitt’s opening, as our bare skin grazes its firm leather, to throw ball with a friend or family member. And while my interaction with baseball gloves was rare growing up, the athletic staple recently introduced itself into my life – in a rather inventive and fashionable way.

Wandering through SoHo one afternoon, I passed by COACH’s window display. The American brand boasted a row of beautifully crafted leather backpacks in its window, inevitably luring me into the boutique. Nathaniel, the sales associate, greeted me. As I picked up the Manhattan Bag off the shelf, Nathaniel explained the item’s significance: in celebration of COACH’s 75^th anniversary, the aesthetics behind this particular bag in the collection stems from the initial inspiration that led to COACH’s conception – a baseball glove.

The brand’s founding piece, dating back to 1941, was its Manhattan Leather Bags. The company founder was impressed by the design of a baseball glove, inspiring him to create a handbag with similar attributes. Like a baseball glove, COACH’s first collection of bags was made from tan, supple, high quality leather, and featured excellent stitch work and craftsmanship.

While the brand has notably evolved since its birth almost a century ago, its current collection of luxury bags tastefully revisits its roots, paying homage to the sport in a fresh context: The new, revitalized Manhattan Bag that I saw is uniquely crafted in black textured leather with large olive green pockets, suede accents on its sides and base, and thick caramel brown accent stitching around the sides – reinterpreting the appearance of a baseball glove from a contemporary stance. Even the bag’s leather is soft and sensitive, prone to scratches and marks, like a baseball glove that becomes charmingly withered with each use.

When I tried on the backpack and looked in the mirror before making my purchase, I felt pleasantly divided between two different worlds: the world of fashion and the world of sports. I never would have guessed that two contrasting forces could intermingle and marry to produce something so beautiful. Even more so, I never expected to wear something every day inspired by a baseball glove – a symbol of a realm of which I am merely an observer.

Countering the age-old saying, therefore, it seems that opposites actually do not attract, simply and seamlessly merging in unison. Nevertheless, as the Manhattan Bag exemplifies, opposites can be deliberately combined, patched and woven together into a new product with an innovative function. And when two contrasting worlds collide – such as fashion and sports, or the acquainted and the unfamiliar – they can exist harmoniously and even inspire us, blurring the boundaries between our different worlds and the sidelines on which we stand.

COACH – 143 Prince Street, New York, NY 10012

It’s the middle of November – the peak of autumn, if you will: leaves turn to warm tones that dangle off branches, temperatures dip, and Starbucks’ red cups embellish the landscape of the city. Time to whip out our oversized scarves and wool sweaters to brave the chill of anything sub sixty in New York.

Meanwhile, I’m packing for my trip to the West Coast for Thanksgiving – with a suitcase full of cotton t-shirts, shorts, and ankle socks.

Something seems to be off here…

Next thing you know, I’m back home in LA, reunited with the rows and rows of palm trees that are as inescapable as they are comforting – and things are looking and feeling almost exactly as they did the last time I was here in July. The temperature hasn’t changed much, and neither have our wardrobes. The only sign of seasons turning are in Barney’s window displays and E.P. & L.P.’s recent menu changes “in accordance with the cooler temperatures,” as my waitress put it.

And as I was sitting there last night over dinner, in my (unnecessary) denim jacket, hearing about the “autumnal specials” in seventy-degree weather, it dawned on me: our seasonal weather changes here in La La Land are just as comical and monotonous as the city’s nickname.

But maybe these so-called “seasons” are characteristic to what we love about each coast: the constant flux of temperatures and nature in the east, versus the sunny sameness in the west, where daylight savings, autumnal menus, and window displays are the only marks of the seasons changing.

Perhaps my New Yorkers out there take pride in autumn as an opportunity to display their double-breasted pea coats and leather gloves, while on this side of the country, in the City of Angels, we celebrate consistency, as our halos and wings take form in basic white t’s and denim shorts – always.

And while I can’t wait to make the trip back to the Big Apple to see what cashmere creations take the streets, I’m taking this moment to bask in LA’s own version of autumn, with sun and blue skies galore.

So to all my Angelenos, throw some ice in that pumpkin spice. Time to gear up for fall: go out and buy your tank tops, flip flops, t-shirts, and shorts. But don’t worry; feel free to splurge…because I’m sure we’ll all end up wearing the same pieces for each “season” here to follow.

In short, let’s make of this time of year what we will, regardless of where we are. Forecasts and outfits aside, perhaps autumn is more so just a state of mind than it is a mark of temperatures (and wardrobes) changing, necessarily – ultimately just a time to reset and refresh for us all.

We all own a pair of jeans:

Our work jeans, our Sunday jeans, our Boyfriend jeans, our date night jeans, our fat jeans, our skinny jeans, our ripped jeans, our faded jeans, and the list keeps on going, just like the fabric continues to sustain its relevance in our daily lives.

We all have our favorite pair of jeans too. I know I do. Or, I did, at least.

They were light blue, not quite worn out, but worn in. They were loose enough to look effortless but fitted enough to make me feel chic. Short enough to roll up at the ankle for a casual look, but long enough to make 5”8 (and a quarter) feel just a tad bit taller.

But over time, denim fades, seams rip, and stitches unravel – just as the fabrics of our lives naturally do.

With each kneel on one knee to tie my shoes, through each sprint through Washington Square Park to make it to class on time, and during each spontaneous dance on the night of Maddy’s 21^st birthday last year, as all of our jeans meshed into one cohesive shade under the neon lights of Bowery Electric, my jeans were there with me – kneeling, running, dancing. And with each experience, the charmingly deliberate, small rip on the right knee expanded, until the rip turned into a torn hole. The jeans were no longer wearable and went on to inhabit the dim back corner of my closet.

Yet, one man’s trash – his worn out denim, is another man’s treasure – his canvas and his inspiration.

Bangkok-raised artist Korakrit Arunanondchai held his first solo museum exhibition at the MOMA in Los Angeles, entitled 2012 – 2555, named for the year in which it was produced, (2555 is the year 2012 on the Buddhist calendar). The collection showcases footage of the artist revisiting his previous artistic achievements, and documents his grandparents as they transform the family garden into their elderly home. In essence, the exhibition explores the cyclical nature of life and memory.

The collection’s centerpiece is, you guessed it, denim. Arunanondchai correlates the rise of denim culture with the appropriation of Western culture, which impacted the realms of fashion and art. Denim not only inspired Arunanondchai, but the fabric also served as the canvas for his artwork, as each pair of jeans that he utilized were intentionally torn, faded, and splattered with paint. Ironically, their vibrantly distressed appearances breathe new life into the conventional fabric, transforming each pair of jeans from an American fashion staple into a commentary on cultural and artistic immersion.

As my former favorite jeans faded from my wardrobe, torn and ragged with memory, a new form of the fabric made its way into my closet. While my new pair of laced denim shoes that reach right below the ankle is neither fashionably revolutionary nor socially groundbreaking, they represent a fresh sense of modernity – similar to the way in which Arunanondchai’s art does. Cole Haan’s new denim shoes, finished with leather trimming and with wooden soles, are ultimately a re-appropriation of the standard material as we know it. The American brand translated a representation of the “classic” into a contemporary context that we wear in a new way.

It seems the beauty of fashion, clothing, and accessories transcends the mere appeal of looks. The things we wear, the pieces we come to know and cherish over time, can be reinterpreted and modified – in visual appearance, contextual meaning, and social significance – in the MOMA, or even in our personal museums that we rummage through daily called our closets. In response, we continue to step (quite literally) forward in the direction of novelty – in fashion, in art, and in our every days. Whether torn, faded, or dripping with paint, styles shift and trends change in the same way that the natures of our lives do. But as we toss out our old jeans, we make room for new denim in fresh forms that hold the promise of new rips and new memories.

Shoes by Cole Haan

Exhibition photograph courtesy of www.moma.org