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    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.

    All The Layers













    I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, which I realize happens often during the holidays. I guess it’s from all the free time. From all the layers. All the layers and layers of skin built up all year long, of not enough no’s and too much yes’s, of mesh fabric and then cashmere, of one too many pairless gloves, of cuffing season, of endless deliveries, of the awkward “Mom, I’m growing my hair out”, of “I hope you transitioned your closet”, of family pressure or lack-of-family pressure, of consuming, eating, dieting, drinking, eggnog, guilt-triping, of first impressions, of lasting impressions, and I-don’t-care-anymore impressions. 


    I can’t shed it. Not a mental “ I can’t” but more like a primal “You better not.” It’s cold out there. A New York City kinda cold…the kind that cares about your feelings as much as your local bodega cares about organic coffee. And I can fight. I’m a fighter. But a fighter, a good one, knows one thing—when to pick and choose their battles. And I know, I know deep down, this isn’t my fight. Why? Because as much as it hurts, it gives. It gives me long evenings in with hot cocoa and a splash of wine. It gives me that beautiful scent—that un-replicable crisp air you can’t find in Lysol tins. It gives me a reason to hold on to him that much longer. It gives me leather jackets. And sweaters on sweaters. It gives me perfect glistening snowballs. And an even more perfect skin to snow contact as the snowball intentionally finds my brother’s face. Oh, so so good. So, I layer up. Even thicker skin, an even larger sweater, a new pair of leggings…the ones I can live in, and I’m ready to take on this occasion, this weather, this holiday stress. And I don’t mind so much. Because I remind myself, I’m not alone. And you’re not alone. And I’m going to be okay. And so will you. And here we are…a bunch of fashionably layered Michelin Tire Man impersonators.  


    --
    Visuals by Georgie
    Wearing:
    Recycled Satin Bomber - Urban Outfitters
    Neo Oversized Tee - Threadworkshop Co
    NMD Sneakers - Adidas



    This post is sponsored by Reebok. All opinions expressed are my own.
















    I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, which I realize happens often during the holidays. I guess it’s from all the free time. From all the layers. All the layers and layers of skin built up all year long, of not enough no’s and too much yes’s, of mesh fabric and then cashmere, of one too many pairless gloves, of cuffing season, of endless deliveries, of the awkward “Mom, I’m growing my hair out”, of “I hope you transitioned your closet”, of family pressure or lack-of-family pressure, of consuming, eating, dieting, drinking, eggnog, guilt-triping, of first impressions, of lasting impressions, and I-don’t-care-anymore impressions. 


    I can’t shed it. Not a mental “ I can’t” but more like a primal “You better not.” It’s cold out there. A New York City kinda cold…the kind that cares about your feelings as much as your local bodega cares about organic coffee. And I can fight. I’m a fighter. But a fighter, a good one, knows one thing—when to pick and choose their battles. And I know, I know deep down, this isn’t my fight. Why? Because as much as it hurts, it gives. It gives me long evenings in with hot cocoa and a splash of wine. It gives me that beautiful scent—that un-replicable crisp air you can’t find in Lysol tins. It gives me a reason to hold on to him that much longer. It gives me leather jackets. And sweaters on sweaters. It gives me perfect glistening snowballs. And an even more perfect skin to snow contact as the snowball intentionally finds my brother’s face. Oh, so so good. So, I layer up. Even thicker skin, an even larger sweater, a new pair of leggings…the ones I can live in, and I’m ready to take on this occasion, this weather, this holiday stress. And I don’t mind so much. Because I remind myself, I’m not alone. And you’re not alone. And I’m going to be okay. And so will you. And here we are…a bunch of fashionably layered Michelin Tire Man impersonators.  


    --
    Visuals by Georgie
    Wearing:
    Recycled Satin Bomber - Urban Outfitters
    Neo Oversized Tee - Threadworkshop Co
    NMD Sneakers - Adidas



    This post is sponsored by Reebok. All opinions expressed are my own.




    . November 29, 2016 .