Wearing your heart on your sleeve takes on a new meaning with these T-shirts, which, like many of the tees in this story, broadcast messages of empowerment while benefitting organizations that are doing the real work.
Photography by Vanina Sorrenti and Sylvia Simon; Styling by Laura Ferrara for the Village Voice
More from the Voice's spring fashion issue:
Sasha Fierce: American Honey's Sasha Lane Is Forging Her Own Path
For Photographer Harley Weir, the World Is Her Oyster
An Intimate Look at Jean-Michel Basquiat's Early Days
Power Dressing: How to Wear Your Heart — and Your Resistance — on Your Sleeve
A Day in the Life of Brother Vellies Designer Aurora James
Remembering the Village Voice's Fashion Insert Vue
Opening Ceremony and Justin Peck Team Up for a Trump-Era Ballet of Resistance
Abra Boero’s Off Season Boutique Is at the Center of a Stylish Renaissance in the Rockaways
Hidden Gems: These NYC Boutiques Deliver a World of Unexpected Finds
Vincent and Marianna Martinelli Honor Tradition While Breaking Boundaries
Meet Your Maker: A Détacher's Mona Kowalska
My New York: Three City Style Influencers Reveal Their Favorite Local Spots
The Bag You Can't Have (Probably)
After eight straight days of sartorial splendor, the penultimate day of New York Fashion Week was no less packed with runway shows around the city. There were long lines of people hoping to get into the shows seen alongside photographers angling to get the perfect shots of celebrities and street-style stars. The Voice captured the frenzied fashion scene outside of both the Michael Kors and Boss Women runway shows at Spring Studios and Skylight Clarkson North, respectively.
Photos by Christian Hansen for the Village Voice
Ronnie Feig showed his first-ever New York Fashion Week collection, dubbed "Kithland" experience. As one of NYFW's most anticipated debuts this season (even Bella Hadid showed up), the scene outside was equal parts hectic... and hip.
After showing at NYFW, Chromat hosted a pool party at Le Bain, featuring DJ sets by JUBILEE, Lauren Flax, and DatKat.
Photography by Maro Hagopian for the Village Voice
Cozy up with this season’s oversize apparel — from Nineties-style dad coats and drapey dresses to sky-high platforms.
Photos by Cheryl Dunn for the Village Voice
The Milgram experiments, which began in 1961 at Yale, studied human's willingness to inflict pain on other people. The experimenters instructed subjects to administer high-voltage shocks on another participant — that participant was, in fact, an actor. Even as the actor began banging on walls and screaming, more than half of participants obeyed orders to increase voltage.
I was reminded of Milgram's study at Kanye West’s Yeezy Season 4 show, watching a model with a broken stiletto boot perilously limp down the runway. It took everything her limbs could muster to simply keep upright, and as she inched forward, the crowd stood with mouths agape. The question on my — and, I imagine, everyone’s — mind was: Should I intervene before her ankle snaps? Or should I follow orders and behave as one does at a typical fashion show?
Yeezy Season 4’s mood was, overall, apocalyptic. Mostly, this seemed intentional. There was the dark, dissonant music, somewhere in between a La Monte Young drone and a horror-movie soundtrack.
There were young, streetcast black and brown women in increasingly sweat-drenched bodysuits. The hot sun blared down on the models — this all took place in a public park on Roosevelt Island — while guests including Kylie Jenner, Kendall Jenner, Anna Wintour, and Pharrell watched from scant patches of shade. (At one point, one of the models fainted, poor thing.)
And then there was the sheer magnitude of the event. Fashion shows are typically 15 to 30 minutes long. Yeezy Season 4 lasted four hours. It began at 1:30 p.m., when guests boarded shuttle buses on Manhattan’s West Side (cabs weren’t allowed near the entrance to the park) and ended at 5:00 p.m. The clothes in the show were — as in previous seasons — mostly beige, cream, and black, in either oversized or body conscious silhouettes. Parkas, sweater-bralets, and off-shoulder hoodies were all paired with the aforementioned boots, wobbly on more than one occasion.
Past Yeezy shows have positioned themselves as performance art. At Yeezy Season 3 in February, extras were instructed to channel Rwandan refugees in distressed, neutral clothes, as West debuted tracks from his latest album. That show, like yesterday's, was billed as a work by visual artist Vanessa Beecroft. Prior to becoming West’s chief collaborator, Beecroft was represented by gallerists including Jeffrey Deitch and Larry Gagosian.
Was yesterday’s show art? Capitalism? Sadism? The line seems hard to draw. Eventually, one man did intervene to help the wobbling model. As she limped off the runway, leaning on his shoulder, the crowd applauded. — Alice Hines