#less magazine

[hangerinc]

Isabella B in HANGER Satin Eboshi Jacket for Less Magazine. Ph: Madara Freimane Stylist: Alexa Chen Make-up: Laura Lo Presti Hair: Amidat Giwa www.hangerinc.co.uk

[hangerinc]

Isabella B in HANGER Embroidered Silver Bomber for Less Magazine.

Ph: Madara Freimane Stylist: Alexa Chen Make-up: Laura Lo Presti Hair: Amidat Giwa

www.hangerinc.co.uk

[hangerinc]

Isabella B in HANGER AW16 Wide Leg Pant for Less Magazine. Ph: Madara Freimane Stylist: Alexa Chen Make-up: Laura Lo Presti Hair: Amidat Giwa www.hangerinc.co.uk

[nirsarigstudio-blog]

Less mag cover

[clingclung]

Hey, check the latest issue of this magazine to which I contribute ;) 

[superbial]

About Appropriate Dressing

I once read an article in some depressive and self-destructive too-fool-for-cool-magazine that I wouldn’t be able to remember the name of, not even if I tried my hardest. It featured an interview with this one guy, Rick, who said something ’bout that I “should buy less clothing and go to the gym instead”. I was like: ‘this guy’s got the guts to say shit like this in a paper with all these skinny ass people, who haven’t smelled like a men’s dressing room since they quit ballet’. Also, a gym-membership costs me about €40 a month and even if I would want to buy some gear made by a poor child-laborer in a factory, or a prison for that matter, next to a nuclear reactor in the jungle of Bangladesh, I would definitely not get far with that amount of money.

Then I did what Rick had told me and went to the gym. All dressed up in that ”swoosh” and ”three stripes”, that I’d once bought and never worn, I looked like the fittest motherfucker in the room. Of course, my lack of skills made me just an Average Joe that day, but that’s not important. Nevertheless, suddenly something great happened to me. A young and inexperienced dude entered the gym and he was even worse than I was. Not only did his heart rate increase by a hundred percent just by looking at Abercrombie & Fitch fist-pumping iron in the corner; he also looked like a more misplaced fellow than Yelawolf does in the rap-industry. Google him, homie. Google him! I wore my gear looking like some elite, but still quite retarded, waterboy from the NBA while he looked like a mediocre evil character from the Star Wars heptalogy. He wore a black, oversized dress inspired by the classic Detroitman-on-roids ‘wifebeater’, but he didn’t look anything like a guy who could beat up his own wife, or any other’s wife for that matter. Not that he should ever try of course. He would never even get the chance anyway. Who should his wife be? Padmé Amidala? I’m quite sure she’s already taken. Furthermore she’s not even into the dark side as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, underneath the dress he wore a pair of pants with a crotch that dropped to his knees. He easily could’ve worn up to seven diapers underneath that thing without anyone noticing. I was actually quite convinced that he did. I would’ve shat my pants showing up in the gym looking like that. Definitely.

The hours went by as I sat on a giant rubber-ball with some disgusting protein-filthy snack in my hand, because some hot fitness-girl at the check-in-desk had told me that I would grow big if I ate it. I just stared at my new hard-trying brah, who had made my day. Because of him I wasn’t the one who got abandoned and even uttered from the circle of gym-social acceptance. He was.When I got home I googled that wise guy Rick not knowing who the fuck to look for. I searched several times. ”Astley”, ”Gervais” and ”Ross” came up as suggestions, and after a short digression building up my self-esteem listening and repeating ”IMA BO$$” synchronic with the last mentioned Ricky, I came up with the name “Owens”. “Rick Owens”.

I realized that the poor fellow from the gym must’ve read the exact same thing as I did. ‘Cause he looked just like someone who could’ve been Rick Owens’ baby brotha. The only difference was that Rick’s dress was much longer and his crotch dropped way deeper.

At this point I actually feel quite comfortable in the gym-area, but to my disappointment I haven’t seen my unknown science-fiction buddy since then. He must’ve found some ‘religious-only’ open-hours or maybe just realized that hitting on girls would be getting much easier looking like the lion king of the beach, spaceship, galaxy or whatever awesome place that was on his mind.

[vanillachina]

Release of the first issue of LESS Magazine, Danish magazine dedicated to the world of "slow" fashion. LESS Magazine features avant-garde, edgy, creative, outstanding fashion design, with the focus on high quality garment and artisanship. And I am among the contributors!

http://lessmagazine.com/681-681/