Getting Street Styled Part II: A Lesson in Layering

I imagine that after taking a cue or two from my first installment of Getting Street Styled, your efforts at standing against brick walls waiting for wo/men with enormous cameras around their necks have become far better received. And in the event they haven't, that's weird, you may want to reconsider your lip color. 

In any case, because you crazy kids seemed to lurve the first photo tutorial, I thought it smart to ride my own wave of success and exhaust use of the same concept enlighten you again with another round of Getting Street Styled. This time, taking a particularly close look at one of the more important elements involved in perfecting the art of man repelling: layering. Because jeans and t-shirt just won't cut it if you want to continue on in the race to learn whose lady bits can stay unkept longest. After all, man repelling means a break from bikini waxing so bring on the fur head piece. (Please do note the crass pun hidden in the subtext here.) And despite the irony presented in the mere fact that I am about to summon three men...Scott Schuman, Phil Oh, Mr. Newton, if you're reading this...snappy, snappy. Clicky, clicky. I'm waiting for you on Mott Street!

All images by Naomi Shon

t-shirt: Helmut Lang, jeans: Seven for All Mankind, flats: Chanel

Step 0: Start with a plain white t-shirt, jeans, and simple black flats. Look into the mirror, ask yourself "who is that?" Stick your pinky finger out of your right front pocket for dramatic effect.

Sheer silk crop top: Kimberly Taylor

Step 1: Let the layering begin. I suggest you use a crop top so to have your first two layers at different lengths. Extra Repeller points if its sheer, this reminds the mangoes that our desexifying capabilities are uncanny...tragic, if you will.

Plaid button up: Vince, compliments of my brother. He's 24, single and related to yours truly. Tweet him for a good time!

Step 2: Add a plaid flannel, flash your bright whites. Kurt Kobain inspired lumbersluts, unite.

Silk floral blazer: Zimmermann

Step 3: Take apart your grandmother's curtains, sew them into one cohesive blazer. Place over your flannel. Fold flannel sleeves over floral sleeves. Pat yourself on the back, in just three steps you've already ventured into the territory of incoherency. Look down at your feet, vow to veto the black flats.

Shoes: Alexander Wang

Step 4: Add birth control glasses. Douche bag points for non-prescriptive lenses. Now you're channeling Kurt Kobain, your grandmother's curtains and the human contents of the Brooklyn-bound L-Train.
Step 5: Trade the fancy flats for a pair of bomb-ass wedges. Bonus points for ankle straps that may or may not create the illusion that even your skinniest jeans can obtain harem tendencies.

Necklace: TOMTOM Jewelry, Forefinger ring: Low Luv x Erin Wasson, Second ring: TOMTOM Jewelry

Step 6: Add several violent weapons, have them double as jewels. If you are prone to poke your own eyes out, breathe a sigh of relief. Your BCGs will protect you.

Turband made with Hermes scarf

Step 7: Strike your best Mr. Peanut pose, have your face emulate an emoticon, place a DIYed turband around head. You look like an asshole and it is fantastic. Do not travel above 14th Street.

Step 8: Embrace your perpetual smile. You are wearing birth control glasses, multiple printed layers in several different fabrics, shapes and sizes, and a home-made turband in one single outfit. 

High five yourself. We're standing under the mistletoe alone come Christmas!  

Psych, just you are. 

I'm Jewish. 

But I'll still toast the turbans, cheers to cheetah, wine to wedges, and clap to culottes with you. It would be unbecoming not to.