Drip?

4 writers on fashion items currently inescapable in hip-hop

Lei Takanashi on Virgil Abloh’s Louis Vuitton

Louis Vuitton hit differently eight years ago when I was a broke ass teenager ogling a wall of saran wrapped sneakers in Flight Club New York. Neither myself nor any of my boys could afford the brand except for my hypebeast homie JJ—the last thing I ever heard about JJ was that he was put on probation after he tazed a kid for Nike Air Yeezys. Other than selling all my broke ass friends horrible sneaker steals like 1/10 condition Thunder IV’s and fake Nike SB Dunkles, the most defining feature I remember about JJ was that he always rocked a Louis Vuitton belt and coin purse. At the start of this decade, these two Louis Vuitton accessories were widely considered to be some of waviest LV items of our time.

Now it doesn’t take a basic GED in Fitology to come to the conclusion that this era of rappers rocking LV was not hitting at all. It was a sad moment for Louis drip, and Dapper Dan didn’t catch all those cease and desists for the culture just for rappers to have a weak ass Louis flex. It went from Killa Cam rocking Alto Martinez’s bootleg LV snorkel to rappers like Fabolous seriously wearing this horrendous, day-glo pink T-shirt and headband. I’ll give Marc Jacobs credit for letting the Louis Vuitton Don evolve into Martin Louis The King Jr by giving Ye his own line of sneakers. And the Millionaire Sunglasses he made with Pharrell and Nigo were definitely popping. But I will never forgive Marc Jacobs for letting the world think that Stephen Sprouse’s weak ass “graffiti” was aesthetically pleasing enough to become a staple of the brand for years. 

Fast forward to 2019 and there are two major things about Louis Vuitton that my younger wannabe hypebeast self could have never imagined. One is that someone like Kim Jones would come around and officially make streetwear a part of Louis Vuitton with the world’s most expensive Supreme collaboration. Another thing I would have never imagined is that the guy who launched Been Trill and Pyrex Vision, arguably two of the worst Tumblr streetwear brands that rappers adored when I was in high school, would become the artistic director of Louis Vuitton’s menswear. 

I’m not going to waste any words dissecting Virgil’s career, arguing whether or not he’s a “real designer,” or anything else that’s best saved for the embroiled comment sections of Hypebeast articles written about him. Whether you are a Virgil stan or hater, what has become clearer than a PVC Keepall bag is that the moment Virgil was appointed to his position at LV last year is when rap officially fused with Louis Vuitton’s DNA. 

Louis Vuitton today is Playboi Carti leading the finale of Virgil’s debut runway show as BadBadNotGood plays “Ghosttown” inside the gardens of the Palais Royal. Louis Vuitton is Gunna pulling up to Virgil’s second runway show in a purple LV bucket hat and soft trunk mini bag while smoking a blunt in front of a throw up by Lewy BTM. It’s seeing Syd Tha Kid and Octavian in Louis Vuitton ad campaigns. It’s Lucien Clarke doing nose grinds in a LV Utility Vest over the “Cancun” snippet. The image of the archetypal Louis Vuitton customer is no longer a white Upper East Side mom nervously clutching her brown monogrammed purse while taking an Uptown train past 96th street. It’s Lil Uzi Vert posting another Instagram carousel of himself dressed head to toe in Louis Vuitton pieces by Virgil Abloh. Virgil has only been at Louis Vuitton for a little over a year, and honestly, I want everything he’s made. 

Alphonse on Amiri Jeans 

Comedian Spice Adams has a viral video titled, “How You Feel Before & After You Get A Haircut.” Before the haircut, Adams is quiet and shy. But after, Adams appears with dark stunner shades and a Wall Street-ready suit jacket, strutting and throwing dollar bills in the air. Right now, rappers get that same feeling when they squeeze themselves into their first pair of Mike Amiri Jeans. 

“All of that money got me in a trance/Amiri constructed these pants” - Money Man

“I’m rockin’ Amiri that’s too much drip” - Lil Dude

“I just spilled some lean on these Mike Amiris” - Shoreline Mafia

Amiri is an L.A.-based brand that in recent years has had their skinny fit, shredded, grunge-inspired denim land on everyone from Demarcus Cousins to BTS. Though the brand has become a phenomenon through the love shown by the hip-hop community. Matthew Scnhneier in a New York Times profile of Mike Amiri, described the appeal of Amiri and other current rap go-tos: “Reinterpreted rock staples for the hip-hop era.”

Currently, in rap’s style battleground Atlanta, Amiri Jeans might be more valuable than a Gucci Mane co-sign. The brand’s price tag—normally a smidge over a grand—has inspired plenty of fakes and the luxury item is donned by the city’s drip elite like Lil Baby and Gunna. “Amiri Jeans, a hundred a pair, ain’t nothin’ about a nigga cheap,” says Lil Baby on “Deep End,” like he’s wearing the world’s unofficial eighth wonder. True Religion? Scammer-wear. Ksubi? Price tag isn’t high enough. G-Star Raw? For the European tourists that shop at Round Two. Balmain? It’s not 2016. Amiris? The hook to Pop Smoke’s “Dior” is enough to declare them rap’s official denim. But, as we know, that crown gets passed around often, and I’m not sure how much longer until Amiri winds up on the racks at TJ Maxx—some waves last longer than expected (VLONE STILL EXISTS). For now I’ll just enjoy listening to Gunna rap about the exact number of rips in his newest pair of Amiris. 

Mano Sundaresan on Kenzo Tees 

There are some obvious choices for clothing that has defined rap in 2019: Lil Nas X’s cowboy hat and Megan Thee Stallion’s WWE get-up. But let’s talk about rap’s obsession with Kenzo tees, specifically through the lens of ShittyBoyz BabyTron. 

Some background: BabyTron is probably one of my favorite rappers right now. He’s a skinny Detroit teenager who drops nasally swipe talk and NBA references over breakneck ‘80s synth samples. He does it all while sporting a luscious Drake Bell haircut and high-end graphic tees.

As of this writing five of the last seven Babytron IGs feature the Detroit rapper wearing the same exact gray Kenzo tee. The Kenzo revival is a recent phenomenon. At the turn of the decade, the brand was 40 years old, sputtering, and in desperate need of an overhaul. Opening Ceremony co-founders Humberto Leon and Carol Lim saw some potential and joined Kenzo as the new creative directors in 2011. From there, everything improved. Kenzo rapidly became a trending brand again, thanks to lowered prices, the introduction of the tiger mascot and now-signature sweater, and collabs with Vans and H&M. 

When talking about BabyTron’s fashion sensibility, Kenzo is of course just a stand-in for the aesthetic he is hellbent on reviving: 2014 r/streetwear fits. I did my research, ran my algorithms, and came up with the following scientifically-conclusive evidence of BabyTron’s commitment to looking like a kid in line for The RodeoTour.

Exhibit A: The Punch God 2 video. BabyTron is wearing a black Deadly Venoms t-shirt (either in reference to the 1978 kung-fu movie or the Wu-affiliated all-women rap group that featured on a Shaq record), Adidas skinny joggers, and zebra-print Adidas NMDs.

Exhibit B: The Cheat Code video. Here he’s wearing a white, double-hearted Comme Des Garcons tee, skinny blue jeans, and blinding white AF1s. Looking like the kid who’d run by the basketball court after school yelling, “Celeb shot!”

Exhibit C: Nuketown. One of several videos in which BabyTron goes with the basketball jersey-white tee combo. He wears a Mike Bibby jersey in this one. I’m normally skeptical of people who casually don vintage jerseys, but BabyTron is clearly a basketball guru. In “Game of Death” he said, “Black ass .40 and it’s tall, call it Tacko Fall.”  

BabyTron is paying homage to a time when you could post a picture in a Supreme t-shirt and Vans on Reddit and get 1k upvotes. I support. ShittyBoyz are for the children.

Samuel J. Robinson on AF1s 

Social media tells us those who wear black Air Force Ones engage in devilish behavior: From grabbing $30,000 worth of jackets out of North Face, to never washing their hands or using deodorant. Butwhat makes the dusty low top the signature shoe of street villains? Even after explanation, an unassuming observer might think it’s a bit much to pin all of those actions on a pair of shoes. But alas, memes explain it all. 

The same can be said about rap music. In 2019, rappers use social media to construct the subconscious of their followers by making it that their timeline and instagram stories are an intimate look inside the lives of their favorite artists. If you’re not a consumer of the endless content the genre provides, you might find the over-the-top ad libs, TikTok friendly flows and playful threats to assassinate the head of office, to be a bit much. Like the questionable traits associated with those who wear all black AF1’s, the antics of those who make rap music are at times an exaggeration. Until it isn’t. California rapper Blueface kicking his mom and sister out of the house is one thing. Shamelessly rapping about it two weeks later?The epitome of all black AF1 activity.

You could listen to rap music while wearing black AF1’s everyday. If you’re not online to read the jokes, memes and storylines necessary to keep up with the current state of hip hop or the dangers of purchasing a pair of Nike’s most-wanted low tops, it’s going to be hard to explain or understand how instructing listeners how to steal one’s identity serves as an entertaining musical narrative. It’s going to be even harder to explain why the instructor of that lesson is probably wearing all black Air Force One’s.

s/o Dani Blum for help. hmu and let’s talk big drip