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  • Lynn Kim Do

    Lynn Kim Do

    Lynn Kim Do may be the first fashionista to define and coin the term Neckbreakin’ Style but she is certainly not the only person that this term encompasses. Lynn takes inspiration from the street, from the mundane and thus her extraordinary everyday experiences, and presents it rawly along with visuals and personal style. This is a platform beyond personal style. It is a space of personal experiences. Lynn Do creates a platform that curates her very honest, sometimes too honest, stories called "Street Talk" with style that is also uniquely raw. Having footprints all over the United States, her view of fashion can not be defined by one location or even one style except one - streetwear. She believes in minimal and clean streetwear without losing all the attitude and sass with it. Her visual and production expertise has accumulated many highly recognized repertoire of projects with clients like Revlon and Urban Outfitters. She has been featured on Nylon.com, The New York Times, and WWD to name a few. If you ask her though, her biggest personal achievement is surviving a year lease in a six floor walk-up NYC apartment.

    I’ve Got A Bad Feeling






    Simple Black Dress - Zara (similar) // Beanie - Thrifted // The Ellis Choker - The Break Vintage // Karen London Aurora Choker - Alekka // Master Tortoise Shell Bootie - Topshop // Flamma Large Bucket Bag - Mansur Gavriel

    In the twenty-four years that I have occupied life, it has always been a constant battle ending with a large thematic resolution—I should have trusted my instincts.

    What does that instinctual trigger feels like? 

    If it’s the good kind, it feels like a unicorn just threw up in your stomach and it feels good, but crappy, but mostly good.

    But if it’s bad, it feels like Charlie Sheen had sex with your spleen.  
    It feels like you just ate a bowl of tiny pebbles for breakfast. The rocks move to the tide of your dayx20. A bump against the wall is equivalent to the impact of every Miley Cyrus wrecking ball meme against your chest. Your mind seems to only want to think about one thing—the thing you’re trying not to think about. You try to be reasonable. You try to negotiate with yourself. No, no, it can’t be. There’s no way that this would ever happen to be. Your optimistic, conflict-avoiding mind tries to find excuses and reasons to find some sort of pleasant alternative. You didn’t even know you could ever be such a saint. You do it again. And again. It circles your mind, invasively. Until you can’t help but feel like someone peeled off a thin film from your body, kinda like that one time I got yelled at for peeling the screen protector off my father’s brand new 50-inch television. You are vulnerable which is weird because you clearly have clothes on. Drafts of wind creep in from every hole possible—the windows, the doors, the elevator, the cracks, the crevices, the bathroom, the meeting room just to creep up your 60% polyester sleeves. Or perhaps the reason why your arm hairs are standing up is because of something else entirely. Your body is telling you in every physical way possible that something isn't right. SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT! That all the reasons, the excuses, the justifications...it doesn't matter. It holds no value here.

    Trust it.

    Recognize it and believe it. Fear is a real thing. There are many things to fear in this world--one being distrustful people. There are fears that have no reason being there stemming from pure insecurity. But many times, your body reacts before you can. And thankfully so because I could’ve really lost my own two-year-old finger if my body didn’t pull it away from the stove burner in time.  

    I’m also an idiot.



      Photos by Karina Munoz






    Simple Black Dress - Zara (similar) // Beanie - Thrifted // The Ellis Choker - The Break Vintage // Karen London Aurora Choker - Alekka // Master Tortoise Shell Bootie - Topshop // Flamma Large Bucket Bag - Mansur Gavriel

    In the twenty-four years that I have occupied life, it has always been a constant battle ending with a large thematic resolution—I should have trusted my instincts.

    What does that instinctual trigger feels like? 

    If it’s the good kind, it feels like a unicorn just threw up in your stomach and it feels good, but crappy, but mostly good.

    But if it’s bad, it feels like Charlie Sheen had sex with your spleen.  
    It feels like you just ate a bowl of tiny pebbles for breakfast. The rocks move to the tide of your dayx20. A bump against the wall is equivalent to the impact of every Miley Cyrus wrecking ball meme against your chest. Your mind seems to only want to think about one thing—the thing you’re trying not to think about. You try to be reasonable. You try to negotiate with yourself. No, no, it can’t be. There’s no way that this would ever happen to be. Your optimistic, conflict-avoiding mind tries to find excuses and reasons to find some sort of pleasant alternative. You didn’t even know you could ever be such a saint. You do it again. And again. It circles your mind, invasively. Until you can’t help but feel like someone peeled off a thin film from your body, kinda like that one time I got yelled at for peeling the screen protector off my father’s brand new 50-inch television. You are vulnerable which is weird because you clearly have clothes on. Drafts of wind creep in from every hole possible—the windows, the doors, the elevator, the cracks, the crevices, the bathroom, the meeting room just to creep up your 60% polyester sleeves. Or perhaps the reason why your arm hairs are standing up is because of something else entirely. Your body is telling you in every physical way possible that something isn't right. SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT! That all the reasons, the excuses, the justifications...it doesn't matter. It holds no value here.

    Trust it.

    Recognize it and believe it. Fear is a real thing. There are many things to fear in this world--one being distrustful people. There are fears that have no reason being there stemming from pure insecurity. But many times, your body reacts before you can. And thankfully so because I could’ve really lost my own two-year-old finger if my body didn’t pull it away from the stove burner in time.  

    I’m also an idiot.



      Photos by Karina Munoz

    . March 4, 2016 .