Calvin Klein Flashes Some Bootay x MLK Thoughs

I'm so behind on posts is not even funny. I know I'm a terrible blogger but I'm trying. My inconsistency randomly fluctuates due to my life struggles. I'm still trying to get my shit together and find my way through life. I guess you could say I'm a lost puppy in a big city, but not really. I know what I want and I know where I want to be, it's just a matter of patience and persistence. It's not easy being a teenager, dealing with outside pressure to attain something that your superiors wished you could accomplish, but I'm just trying to listen within and act accordingly. People often tell me you should do this, do that, but I can't just do what someone tells me to do, because they're not me, why would I waste time trying to please somebody else thus suffer later?. To me that just doesn't make sense. I only got one life to live, by that I don't imply acting crazy, partying every night and having polygamist sex. Instead, I try to make conscious decisions which I would later benefit from, so please bare with me and keep following my blog, it means a ton having a virtual support system, when at times there seems to be none on the real world. 

I meant to do this post on monday the 18th since America honored a very special entity. Martin Luther King was an icon in the Civil Right movement and in American history as well, though I did not organized any type of festivities, I attempted to nurture my growing knowledge of MLK and his accomplishments. Now it might seem so absurd to imagine the casualties, struggles and sacrifices folks back then had to sustain just so they could have a voice and bring a peaceful message of equality to society. It's just crazy to me that the so-called "most powerful nation in the world" lived such levels of stupidity and ignorance back then. I still can't comprehend on how someone's brain operates when they point the finger and judge their compatriots based on the pigment of their skin. I guess to some people that just how they were raised and unfortunately those same idiotic principles were passed down to their kids, those kids would pass down those same idiotic principles to their own kids and so on and so forth. The chain still seems not broken yet, though we have a black man sitting at the white house. Do you remember that big story of this horrendous and shameless act of these kids plotting to assassinate Mr.O?, but fortunately their malicious endeavors were hindered by officials, and the question rises...why?. Are we still living in oppressed and belligerent America? or Are we witnessing an awakening of "weak" and submergence of the powerful?, I guess you already know the answer.

So you might be asking yourself why the heck this Spring/Summer 2010 Calvin Klein ad shot by Steven Klein has to do with MKL? Well, let me explain. Since I ever found out who MLK was, I always saw imagery of him looking rather powerful and slightly pensive at times, but never down. I think his strength and willingness to make a difference was one of the key elements for his fruitful triumph. MLK  was alway seen well-composed, well-presented. He may not be seen as the most stylish men in American history, but his attire always alluded a powerful sensibility and simplicity, and when I saw these pictures it immediately clicked. The model, David Agbodji, who by the way has a AMAZING ass, (When I saw these pictures I was literally dumfounded, I almost fell off my seat, I mean how you seen a better ass than that?) is french but exudes the message of the brand. I also believe that these photographs do have a certain edge that MLK and his minions exhibited back then. I know they're a bit racy and controversial, and so was MLK, not in a sexually-explicit way but he still made headlines across the nation, and I love that.  

"I Have a Dream"...that one day I'll become editor of Vogue =), not seriously.

Pictures: models.com

The Wizards

Last night I had the chance to attend the Wizards vs. Orlando's Magic game at the Verizon Center in Chinatown. I've been to this venue before but for a totally different reason. It was about 3 or 4 years ago for a Venus and Serena Williams exhibition tennis match to benefit the Ronal McDonalds' house. I had such a good time seeing my idols out there on the faux tennis court doing their thing, it seemed almost magical. This time, I arrived to the venue super late, due to my irresponsible proceedings, but I'm trying. I was warned to be there at 6:00 p.m. and I get there around 6:50-ish 7 p.m. In top of that my boyfriend who I suppose to see him at around 5:30, was super furious at my tardiness, not good. We met right outside the venue, we get in line and all of the sudden I feel my feet and hands numb, the line was rather long and my impatience got the best of me, I reacted and said, "Hellllsss Noooo". I turned my head and noticed this little black kid standing behind me, hoping he didn't hear me, I just spuriously smiled and softly uttered "hi". He was the cutest thing I ever seen, I wanted to adopt him, but that's called wishful thinking. We make our way inside through the swarm of folks tying to get in (I just learned that night it was a sell-out crowd of 20,173), we then proceeded to take the escalator towards the upper level of the venue. It was a bit of a trek, but we easily found our assigned seats. I sited and I was like "Dammm". We were technically almost at the ceiling, (just look at the image above) the gigantic NBA players didn't look so tall now, but I was later surprised to learn that Howard stands at 6'11''. How could someone seemed so tall and sexy at the same time?, I guess that's just a thing of nature.


By the time we found our seats, the game had already started and the Wizards were loosing. I pulled out my phone and started addressing my virtual duties. Throughout the game my boyfriend kept poking me trying to get me engage with the game, but I kept being distracted with my phone. I was never a huge NBA fan, but I do enjoy watching. I'm a sports kinda guy, but it just happens to be that basketball is not the most fashionable sport out there, though the game has blame short-shorts looked so demode. Now that I bring the topic of fashion, I must illustrate the tackiness from some of the spectators but preferably from the so called "Wizards Girls". These young ladies were prancing around in some skimpy white low-cut tops revealing a bit too much cleave, paired with some hideous glitzy golden bootie-shorts, I was just appalled. It screamed "Hooters", loud and clear. Now I wonder what Karl's remarks would've have been if he looked at this type of get-ups, but probably not so good ones.


I thought this type of events were family friendly, but it looked more like PG-18. I could spot lots of infants in the house, matter fact, this lady sat next to me with a few kids, which I assumed were her own. There was a moment, where this cheerleader was throwing t-shirts to the crowd and I could literally see from way up above her scandalous, voluminous breast busting out her top bouncing up and down, it was a bit uncomfortable, but I'm sure there were plenty of men who were leering with lascivious interests. At the same type I was checking out a few of the players and I was not disappointed. I think, though from a far distant, they sort of look hotter live than on TV. From Orlando's Magic, I'll have to say Brandon Bass, Dwigth Howard, Jameer Nelson and J.J. Redick are staright up eye-candy and from the Wizards; Antawn Jamison and Caron Butler are the best looking ones from the team. So at the end of the day, or should I say night, everybody left visually pleased.

I was having such a good time, that I decided to take a few pictures. They look decent after I edited a few of them. This huge cube harnessed by a group of wires and cords coming from the top of the Verizon Center was a major commodity of the venue, the humongous screen was broadcasting the game live for those who are short-sighted. From the location I was sited at, the player's faces seemed so diminutive that I needed to check the screen to get a better look. I was a bit surprised at this otherworldly physical condition and abilities that some of the ballers exuded. They made everything looked so simple and effortless, that it almost wanted to make you be on the field next to these titans, but in reality these men play at such a level that seemed almost unreachable, they don't call these the NBA for no reason.

The wizards took control of the 4th quarter and won the game by 104-97 and sent the Magics back to Orlando with a sour taste on their mouths and an ever worse sense of loss and shame since this is their 4th consecutive loss. Well, I'm not a NBA analyst, and since this is not a sports blog, I almost forgot the mission of De La Style. I know I'm so behind in fashion news but I has to take care of life necessity matters thus suffering my backlog on posts. But I promise to attempt to regularly blog and keep you updated.

Much love to Maggy Francois for hooking me and my boyfriend with free tickets =).

No Resolution, But I'm Still Me

You know the usual, bottles popping, dancing the new year away, and fireworks exploding in mid air creating a mesmerizing lights-illusion spectacle, that's considered the "known" New Years' eve celebration, but my night had a few bumps and grinds on the way. I started getting ready around 8:00 p.m. After I showered, I selected this Calvin Klein black shirt with this silk black Van Heusen tie, and this dark grey vest that I modestly fashioned. I then paired it with some dark washed Levi's denims with black Aldos. (This is one of those time where I wished I had a working camera so you see how cute I looked, but there would be more hot moments, so don't panic) As most of the time, I was looking put together, so I guess you can say (In James Brown voice) I was feeling good. A few minutes later I get a call from my boyfriend telling me that he's not going to make it due to the fact that he was extremely exhausted from work. After repeatedly begging him to come and explaining him the importance of this night and how much it would've have meant for us to spend this night together, he refused and stayed home. I completely understood his position, because I've been in those situations before, you know those days where you desperately want to go out and you don't feel like getting off your bed because your feet are aching. We talked for a few more minutes but after we hanged up, I felt somewhat discourage and the willingness to go out and celebrate slightly decreased. But then I thought, there is no point of me sitting here doing nothing, so I changed my mind and went accordingly with my initial plan.


I headed out, hopped on the train and the usual fashion victim galore. I don't know about you, but I heard that Washington D.C. was on the ladder to become one of these fashion exploitation capitals but from what I saw I thought it was heading towards fashion doldrums. Not too long after I sat on one of  the rear cars of the train, a bevy of pesky college kids got in, and sat not too far from where I was sitting. My first thought was, "Lord have mercy", Don't these people know it's New Year's eve and where would they be heading in those getups?, To some hideous style conventions or some red-neck savage parties? Quite frankly, I was just appalled at the lack of effort from a few members of the crowd. One of the girl had this nice chocolate brown plaid wool trench with metallic detailing, and this other girl, standing close by had this wide-legged dark-washed denims with this chic white overcoat, although her bag looked sort of road-kill, she looked the part. In the other hand, some "dudes" were sporting worn-out baggy jeans, loose-fitting white see-tru shirts, oversize jackets and running sneakers. I just wanted to called the fashion police. However, I sympathize with them, some of them don't know any better, or just don't have the right style guidance, or perhaps they feel that they are important enough so they don't care on how they look. Not saying that I always appear impeccable, I do have my occasional style missteps, but I can dish them out, simply because I recognize my errors, vs. somebody who can't put an outfit together even if their lives depended on it. And not be able to spot the violation. 

Now that I think about it makes sense. A while back I was reading this fashion blog that stated that men in D.C. lack of sense of style, and it's true to some extent. Although we see the epitome of style sitting on the white house, (some) men tend to overlook on how they dress. The nation's capital has been looked as this conservative, up-tight, metropolitan society that wear only ill-fitting suits to the office and chinos on the weekends, and that's not that case. There are a selected few who enjoy the art of dressing and make an effort to look their best at all times. I personally know a few of those people, who never look a hair out of place and always seems to be wearing the appropriate ensemble. Those are the people that I admire and try to associate myself with, not demeaning those who don't indulge themselves in the fabulous qualities of fashion, but at least they make the effort.

Moving on, I reached Dupont Circle station and I stepped out the train, flabbergasted with the dearth of style. I headed towards the escalator, which is one of the longest one I ever seen, just to give you an idea, it would take you about 3 minutes to get to street-level without skipping a step. Once on top, I reached into my pocket for my phone to let my friend know that I was here. He told me he was on his way so I was pleased, since it was balls-freezing cold outside. On the meanwhile, this African American guy attempted to start a small talk with me, asking for directions and my residence location, but I knew damn well where he was trying to direct this conversation, then his friend walked towards where we were standing and seemingly graceful said hi. Thereafter as they started walking away the first guy shouted he liked my shoes, I lied to him responding they were Dolce, he then mumbled something to his friend and shouted, Dolce?! and affirmed smiling, shouting Gabbana!!!. I had the premonition that they were both gay and I was probably right. 

My friend came by and scooped me up, we headed towards Apex Night Club, which is conveniently just a few blocks away. We parked and trotted to the entrance, I handed my passport to the bouncer, who looked more like a gay version of Kenan and Kel. He examined my passport as if he was trying to spot out errors on my English essay. He proceeded to handed it back and told me it was expired, "like 5 years ago!". I knew damn well that it has been expired but I thought the birth date is the only piece of info that mattered. So anyways, I ran back to the car grabbed my i.d. and went back inside. This time the bouncer even took longer to check my i.d. perhaps he thought it was fake or something but he just handed it back to me, made a "y" on my hands with a black marker and signaled me to walk in. I payed my cover fee, in exchange I got this red little red ticket, where I was suppose to hand it to this lady who was just sitting feet away from the ticket counter. I handed her my ticket and got stamped on my hand. I walked on behind my friend and I felt the beat immediately and started shaking my booty, it just came natural. 

I been to a couple nightclubs before, but never to a gay nightclub, so this was my very first time. Once we walk up the steps to the dance floors, I was a bit taken aback, I never seen such grinding that involved two people of the same gender. The place was almost packed and it was dark and different color lazer lights were shooting randomly from the ceiling. The fashion, as you would expect was a bit "out there"; some people were dressed up, dressed down, shirtless, and a few thought it was still Halloween. The venue consisted of a wide dancefloor, mirrored walls, a sitting/lounger area, about 5 or 6 full-equipped bars, and the rear area was used as the latin mini-salsa-club called "Caliente". My friend and I started working the room, we started dancing on the outside and started working our way in. We would grind with each other for a few seconds while we were sipping suds in between. He warned me that if I got caught drinking, they would have to kick me out, (since I'm underage), but luckily, they didn't. 

A while later, I spotted two of my other friends who were suppose to come with us, but they felt they needed their alone time, so they showed up a bit later. We proceeded to head over the mirrored-wall area, and that's where I got in touch with the inner me. As I'm looking straight at my reflection, I see myself ferociously dancing and having a sense of reconnection. I felt like I've just found the new me, the one who's been oppressed with society's ideal of what I should be, instead of letting my inner-self voice it's genuine feelings, I found myself. I thought, this is it.

Throughout the night, I noticed a few guys checking me out and trying to set up a small talk, but they miserably failed. I thought a bunch of them were very shallow, and lack confidence, or perhaps self-esteem. I attempted to never make a move on anybody since I already had a special someone who I must remain faithful to, so it never happened. I kept dancing and sharing texts with my allies. It was just such a good atmosphere, something that I barely perceived at any other nightclubs that I been to. At around +3:30 a.m. we started to head out, once my body made contact with the world outside, my immediate reaction was to run for cover, we got on the car and started heading home, I was exhausted but I still had enough energy within me to party for at least two or three more hours. We got home, I grabbed something to eat, and went online to check somethings out. I started watching one of my favorite shows, Chanel 2007 FW, by the middle of the show, I felt my eyes were dwindling, I fought to stay awake, but I lost. I placed the laptop down and went to bed...I mean sofa. 

This is the first time that I haven't celebrated New Year's eve with my family. I was raised in a traditional family with a modern aesthetic, my parents were never super strict nor they were loosey-loosey. I was given the freedom needed in order me for me spread my own wings and take flight for myself. In a way that night served as an opportunity for me to reaffirm who the real me was and still is, it gave me in some sense a new perspective on how I really looked and portrayed myself to the world, now nothing is hidden and exposed to the world. I love myself and I hope you do too. 

Picture google.com