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Wear / Engineered Garments Indigo Western Shirt, Imogene+Willie Barton Jeans & Hav-A-Hank Classic Handkerchief Where / Austin, Texas

content Kenyan Lewis & Grace Kelsey

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Matt Eddmenson

26

Mary Kathryn Paynter

36

Kirk Bray

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Lauren Wilkins & Josh Block

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Caleb Owen Everitt & Ryan Rhones 66 Brian Awitan

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Dave Gilbert

92

Iron & Resin Hooligan Derby

98

Sarah Jaffe

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Publisher/Creative Director Chris Brown Senior Photographer Gustav Schmeige Editors-at-Large Scott G Toepfer & Cicero deGuzman Jr. Contributing Photographers Scott G Toepfer, Michael Muller, Sean Sullivan, Grace Kelsey, Allison Waid & Emma Katka Contributing Writers Tara Fox & Chris Bray Cover Photography Gustav Schmeige Back Cover Logo Design Caleb Owen Everitt / L A N D

refueledmagazine.com Š 2012 Refueled Inc. All Rights Reserved. Refueled is a trademark of Refueled Inc.

Photography by Michael A Muller

Coast to coast, across this great land, I have some very stylisH friends. They live, work and play in amazing creative enviroments and cities. With this issue, i share just a handful. Wear & where. My grandfather was a butcher. He stood daily at a huge, wooden butcher block, cutting beef, pork and lamb. He wore great baggy khaki chinos, fresh-ironed short-sleeved shirts that he rolled up twice, and heavy white cotton aprons. My father was a blue-collar worker in the oil refineries of Southeast Texas. His uniform consisted of Levi’s 501 Big E selvage jeans with rolled cuffs, white tees and Western style yoke, sawtooth snap-pocket denim shirts - also Levi’s. He wiped his brow with blue and red faded cotton bandanas. Both men created their American dream - with incredible style. While on the road, putting together this issue, I was constantly reminded of the saying “The more things change, the more they stay the same”. The word “heritage” also kept coming to mind. Matt Eddmenson crafts denim jeans in an old gas station. Stylist Kenyan Lewis and Grace Kelsey collect objects that reflect a life already lived. Leather goods maker Kirk Bray

embraces clothes with a rich past. Graphic designers Caleb Owen Everitt and Ryan Rhodes feel that heritage embodies a spirit of authenticity and honesty, and singer/songwriter Sarah Jaffe remembers growing up listening to folk icons James Taylor and Joni Mitchell. The folks included in this issue all have a great sense of style and respect for the past. They express themselves not only through their craft, but by how they dress, through their surrounds, their enviroment. Each one creating something special to them, with passion. We often grow to see our parents, our family’s rich history in ourselves. I too wipe my brow with bandanas - the same ones my father used those many years ago - passed down. Yes some things have changed, but as I look in the mirror and at my friends around me, we work towards that same American dream - hopefully with as much style.

Publisher/Creative Director Chris Brown

Wear / Red check J. Crew shirt paired with vintage motorcycle jacket Where / Accord, NY

Grace Kelsey, a runway model-turned photographer, and Kenyan Lewis, a prop master and collector, have caught the eye of everyone from Todd Selby, who shot them for his eponymously hip website, to The New York Times, where their digs were featured in the Home & Garden section. I was introduced to the pair two summers ago when my roommate invited me to join her for a weekend visit, and when they pulled into the bus station in their weathered gold mini van, Bob Dylan pouring out the open windows and a case of beer in the back, I was glad I made the trip. Grace and Kenyan are two of the most down to earth people I’ve ever met, and we spent those days tanning on the rocks at the local swimming

hole, eating barbeque on the front lawn, and falling asleep to obscure sci-fi films in their third-floor loft. I’ve spent close to a month’s rent in bus ticket fare visiting them ever since. The brain and brawn behind ByKenyan Props (Grace and Kenyan are both equal parts brain and brawn), they’re responsible for outfitting such New York hangouts as Lovely Day, De Santos, and Smith&Mills. They designed Ralph Lauren’s holiday display uptown this past Christmas, and were recently commissioned by Bushmills to produce 800 hand-screened signs and bar kits that were distributed throughout the U.S.

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After paying their dues in the city, they moved upstate in 2008 to meet the demands of their business—and their own rapidly expanding vintage collections. They found their home in a sleepy town two hours outside Manhattan, and have since adopted all the virtues of country living. On my last visit, they picked me up from the bus stop outside Accord in a rented van, a vintage Chesterfield sofa Kenyan had sourced for a client doubling as seats for the ride home. When we got a flat tire on our way to explore a property they might have a hand in renovating, he and Grace made light of the experience. While other people might complain about the time lost and money spent, they took pictures of the garage while the tire

was being mended and admired the interior of a vintage car in the parking lot. When the mechanic handed them the nail that caused the flat, Kenyan kept it as a souvenir and he and Grace pondered over its age and origins. Grace and Kenyan are the sort of people who will stop and eat at a restaurant because they like the sign out front. They find inspiration in the subtle details others overlook: the splintered shingles of a farmhouse roof; the variations in color of an aged wood beam; the pattern of corrosion in an old door knob; or the way a set of lace curtains plays upon the powder blue façade of a certain Victorian storefront.

The rust that decorates Kenyan’s truck is reminiscent of the tarnished sides of a landlocked box car off the interstate, the “last supper”-style table he built in the front yard for summer barbeques of the disintegrating, splintered wood of the barns, cabins, and stables that dot the farms along the highway. In fact, it really was made from salvaged barn wood. “Don’t underestimate our environmental friendliness,” Grace teases. “Kenyan makes it a point to use everything, every last scrap.”

abandoned and unwanted structures in the area. On a recent visit, Kenyan took me with him on the drive to Barnwood Bob’s house to pick up a load of pressed tin ceiling he had acquired from a recent tear down. It took nearly an hour to load all the sheets in the van, and we listened to the clamor of the metal settling in the back as we drove the winding country roads to Kenyan’s studio in Kingston, where he planned on storing them for a future project. It’s noises like that which form the soundtrack to Grace and Kenyan’s upstate experience—the country equivalent to the rumbling of the city subway.

His wood often comes from Barnwood Bob, a literal barnstormer who makes a living salvaging materials from

Wear / Vintage Hat, Sweater & Top by Falls Designs, 80’s Hugo Boss Golf Khakis, Vintage Cowboy Boots from Louisiana

Where / Accord, NY

Grace and Kenyan surround themselves with objects that have a heart— that reflect a life already lived. “There was a level of craftsmanship involved back then. People cared about the items they were making, you wanted to keep things forever. With my truck, you can pull up the hood and replace pieces, fix the engine,” Kenyan explained. “Now you can’t really see the engine anymore, it’s covered up by something.” Counted as among his most prized possessions, the old Chevy could function as a metaphor for the duo’s entire design and collecting philosophy. From the tattered leather sofas and vintage signage in the attic to the taxidermy bear on the second floor work space (I imagine their home is the only place where I’ll ever wake up under the gaping jaws of such a creature and not be in the least bit alarmed by its presence—or the shriners fez hat on its head) to Kenyan’s collection of prosthetic legs dating from the 1700s, paint peeling off the wood at the knees, their home echoes the sentiment that objects should be honored, enjoyed, and above all else, left to age naturally. “We’re not into things that are restored,” Grace always says. “Unless you’re trying to keep it from falling apart or functioning properly. We don’t want things to look shiny and new. It’s like laugh lines: embrace the fact that you have laugh lines because you’ve laughed.” Grace and Kenyan’s regard for the past is evident in their personal style. But while they’re both undeniably fashionable, their wardrobes are indicative of the demands of country life. Their clothing, like their objects, is suited to their surroundings—and their work. Aged denim, leather work boots, and WWII-era jackets are common for the both of them—whether they’re outfitting a restaurant in the city or sourcing for a client in the country. Grace often buys men’s suit sets from the 30s on eBay, coupling the jackets with one of her cotton feed sack-print dresses from the 40s, and the pants with an old flannel. “In a sense our objects are like an orphan child we’ve grabbed up, tried to nurture and take care of,” Kenyan told me. I’ll never forget the way his eyes lit up when he discovered a WWII-era leather aviator suit at a local antique shop. He purchased it on the spot, pleased that it was fetching thousands at a shop in the city. When we got back to the house, he put the suit on immediately, and wore it proudly the rest of the afternoon. While the flight suit doesn’t get as much wear as a pair of overalls or vintage Levis, both he and Grace incorporate items from their vintage collections in their daily lives, if only for the sake of showing them off and having a little fun. In Grace and Kenyan’s world, time imbues objects with a special kind of beauty, and every rust spot, every scratch, every frayed edge and worn corner tells a story. “The things we surround ourselves with have lived a life before they’ve gotten here” Grace explained, as she ironed a black silk dress from the 1920s she planned on using for a vintage portrait project. I could smell its age escaping the fabric as she ran the iron down the front of the dress. She pointed to one of the sleeves. It was, quite literally, disintegrating. “I’ve always been the kind of person who’s liked things that are worn through actual use. Kind of like the velveteen rabbit; the wear becomes its essence.”

Wear / Vintage Brooks Brothers Fedora. Lee overalls, a gift from the owner of Strongarm Clothing & Supply Co.

Where / Accord, NY

Wear / Corcoran Boots, Vintage Slip Dress Where / Accord, NY

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Designing jeans you’d tend to assume that you have a drawer full? Not true though, right? Why? Not true. I have one pair of jeans for every year we have been open. I tend to be of the school of thought that the older the jean, the better. Over the years, it’s become that I have a dark pair that are the newest, a nice blue shade for the second year, and a really nice light pair that have been repaired so many times I can’t keep track. Oh, and I have a pair of naturals and a pair of the oilcloth Willies, too. Imogene + Willie has moved further into designing additional clothing. Tell us about them and what went into creating the spring/summer line? We are predominantly known as a “denim brand.” But the truth is we designed shirts and outwear for other brands back in our Sights Denim days, so it was a natural progression that we’d eventually extend our line. Our spring/summer 2012 line came out of our love for old Japanese boros. Their texture and all the different shades of blue are what inspired us to create the collection, which is called “Sea of Blue.” We really have wanted to do it for some time now, but just haven’t had the means to do this extensive of a collection in the past. Did Nashville inspire any of the new pieces? Where does your inspiration come from when creating a new line?

Nashville inspires everything we do. It’s where we live and the community that we are a part of. Our Western shirt really is an ode to Nashville but with a new twist. What bike are you currently exploring Nashville on? Favorite question of the interview! I have a few motorcycles that I have collected over the years. Most of them are vintage bikes and haven’t been the most reliable forms of transportation. So back over the winter, I bought a “newer” Triumph Bonneville T100. It’s by far the nicest bike I’ve ever owned and the most reliable. I love riding with friends through Nashville. It’s just so beautiful here! Any summer road trip planned? Well, I’m always thinking about a trip; I moved a few miles away from the shop just to have a commute. Before we moved, Carrie and I lived down the street from the shop and I couldn’t get even get the oil in the bike hot. This daily commute from our home in East Nashville to the store on 12th Avenue South has really cured my angst over not being able to take a lot of trips. I am going to try to ride with the Venice Vintage Motorcycle Club next week in LA and want to ride from Austin to Marfa in September. Of course, I always love riding in Colorado and that’s never out of the question!

Wear / Hollywood Trading Company Boots, Whites Semi Dress Boots, Imogene+Willie Willie Jeans, Vintage Tee, RRL Waffle Hoody, Imogene+Willie Carter Shirt, Otis James Hat, Vintage Cashmere Sock Hat, 1961 Rolex Air King & Oakley Holbrook Sunglasses Where / Nashville, Tennessee

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After three years as an account executive at a local branding firm, one morning I woke up, typed three letters of resignation, and slyly left them on my bosses’ desks while they were out to lunch. I had started to come to terms with the lack of even mere contentedness proffered by the job. My industrial-chic warehouse office, the glowing AmEx with my name evenly engraved across the bottom, and expensive letterpressed business cards all eventually spoke of little more than a facade of power and relevance. But what would I do? My answer brought quizzical and slightly concerned looks from not only my bosses that day but eventually my friends, family, and, as is wont to happen in the garrulous South, their friends and family. I was going to be a florist. This is how I currently find myself owner of the Austin-based floral design studio, Loretta Flower. Named for my favorite TVZ song, the business has taught me more than I ever learned behind that desk about connecting with people, what a brand is and should be, and how to challenge yourself professionally and creatively every single day. I’ve done all kinds of work, big and small, and have recently started styling for commercial shoots and writing two columns for Design Sponge, one of the blogs that first inspired me to pursue floral design as a craft. It is a beautiful job, but by no means is it easy. You are constantly making waste, always cleaning up a mess that is much larger than the finished product, and keeping a watchful eye over your product for anything that might cause it to spoil. Refrigeration and cleanliness are mandatory, and time is of the utmost importance. Your fingers develop blisters, and then calluses, and the skin divides like a river, beginning to wrap egregiously around the bone. You must maintain your tools, as they make or break you.

And then, at the end of day, a flower may just decide to wilt on you for reasons totally beyond your control. I’ve compared myself to a mortician more times than I care to count, doing my best to restore an object that is slowly succumbing to the same organic nature that gave it beauty from the start. There really is nothing quite like the experiences you get to be witness to, though. You’re present at crucial times for people-when they are in love, when they are trying to save a relationship, when they are grieving, and when they are celebrating a new life. What a florist offers fades--it is by definition unlovable--but we also provide a moment of beauty and reassurance in trying times for people. Whether the hard work is worth it is not always easy to know, if the hours of manual labor for so little money and the anxiety that comes with any craft-based business will pay off in the end. But these moments make it not about reparation. For a second you no longer think about what you will receive but, rather, are grateful for what you have been able to give.

Wear / Madewell Jacket, J. Crew Silk Dress with Vintage Cowboy Boots

Where / Austin, Texas

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Wear / Vintage Sportcoat & Poscket Square, Muji Shirt, Levis 511 Jeans, Billykirk Nautical Belt, Alden Black Indy Boots. Billykirk Light Blue Denim/Horween Tan Essex Leather Carryall. Where / Jersey City, New Jersey

When Chris asked me to write a few things about Kirk’s style and fashion for his upcoming “Wear & Where” issue I didn’t know where to start. As his older brother I saw just how much fashion and style meant to him growing up and how it has shaped him today. Ever since I can remember Kirk has been interested in clothing, shoes and style in general. Our mother used to drag us to fabric stores when we were young and I truly believe that is where he first got the clothing bug. While I was putting pins in my eyes and begging to leave, Kirk could be found looking through the multitudes of colored zippers, button bins and sewing patterns. He would eagerly watch the ladies as their scissors knocked on the cool, white cutting tables as they measured and cut the fabric. All those orderly stacks of freshly cut material ready to be assembled into pieces of clothing had an effect on him. By 13 I am fairly certain clothes and shoes took top billing on all of his birthday and holiday wish lists. Yet, as a teen, he was able to seamlessly intertwine his thrift store, dress-down jock and skater looks with his unyielding desire to snap up the latest clothing from Dayton’s department store in St. Paul. In his senior year of high school he was voted “Best Dressed” and even designed his own cummerbund and bow tie for his senior prom. He had jobs at The Gap, Bugle Boy and worked at our grandmothers clothing store in Florida for a summer. All this culminated with him getting a clothing design degree at the University of WI in Menomonie. By all accounts he was on his way to become a famous clothing designer. When Kirk was fresh out of college he and I moved to CA and he found work as an assistant clothing designer at a few clothing labels. During those two years he got a good dose of what the clothing industry was all about and it was not for him. So, in one week he quit his clothing design job, broke up with his girlfriend and crashed his car. If that’s not enough, he had $1.63 in his bank account. Not one to get too detoured or depressed he had a major epiphany and decided to switch gears and took a night job at a local coffee shop so he could re-think his career. It was during that first year of working nights that we formed Billykirk and he has not looked back. Yes, Kirk is a connoisseur of style, both in fashion and how he keeps the interior of his home. There is always a healthy rotating mixture of his art work and others he has collected. I would describe his interior design tastes as 100% eclectic. There is not one central theme or era that he subscribes to but rather a fascinating mixture of modern, vintage, and found object. When it comes to fashion, he has always been more on the conservative side and has never been one to succumb to fads. He is most comfortable in some old boots, worn jeans and a nice button down oxford but feels equally at home in a suit. He is often told that he looks like a young Yves Saint Laurent and has embraced that notion for at least one Halloween costume. Kirk firmly believes one of Laurent’s famous quotes, “dressing is a way of life.” One thing is for certain, he consistently looks better than I do and deservedly so. Though he may have never become that clothing designer we all thought he would, he is one damn good accessories designer and a stylish one at that.

Wear / Unis Chambray Shirt & Engineered Garments Jacket

Where / Jersey City, New Jersey

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She is the woman behind Arrow & Arrow, an indie mens/ womens clothing store that GQ magazine recently listed as one of the top five in Austin. He is the drummer for the garage rock quartet White Denim. along with their blue tick hound hattie, they live and create in the city that takes pride in staying weird - but for how much longer? { lauren wilkins } Current brand obsession? I always love FWK for women and Engineered Garments for men. Josh and I both live in Daiki’s cothes. As well as Chimala - nothing better than amazing well made beautiful denim pieces. Your favorite look for summer? Male & Female? Ladies: Vans, cut-offs, perfect tank or a little mexican dresses like at JM drygoods, and a Stanley & Sons tote to carry a swimsuit and other swimming needs with you at all times - you never know where the day might take you! You can see where my head is in the summer. Dudes - awesome jeans and a perfect tee - vans or cowboy boots depending on what you’re doing that day - you too should carry some trunks with you though! Who/what do you look to for inspiration - Be it style or other?

I don’t think I have anything/person specifically that I look to - I feel like I’m constantly seeing images everywhere -be it new or old from photography to art to fashion - I think my mind just picks up on things I like and from there inspiration comes... Best summer time album and why? Dire Straits “Dire Straits” Because It will take you to magical places wherever you are. Makes me think of driving through the beautiful west Texas desert down to Terlingua - somewhere I’d like to be all the time. Josh and I recently took a trip down there and all you really need is some dire straits, tequila, and a place to lay your head - the landscape takes care of the rest. What’s on the horizon? Our move to Nashville - and wherever the road may take us. We’ve both got some fun projects in the works but we’re really excited about the endless possibilities. I’m exploring some new additions to Arrow & Arrow and working on making some things myself - but they’re a secret at the moment!

Wear / Chimala Gathered Dress, Chimala Denim Coverall, A.P.C. Jeans Where / Austin, Texas

{ josh block } What is your first music memory? My first musical memory could show one of two things; a, I can remember really far back into my childhood, or b, I was a little too old to be getting rocked to sleep. It could range from Joni Mitchell to Joan Jett, but always in the same wicker rocking chair, and since my mother was an very talented and studied vocalist, it was always beautiful. Who and what music has inspired you the most?

I think those were the memories that always kept me going. No matter what, she always sang with so much respect for the music and listener. These days I find inspiration everywhere, but still mainly with loved ones. Lauren has become such a big source of happiness for me, and that’s always great to focus on. As far as inspiring music goes, I’m currently on my way to Brazil, the home of some of my favorites - Joyce, Tuca, Olivia Buyington. I could keep going, but I like that my list is exclusively made up of women. Any rituals that keep you sane out on the long tour road? Your environment is between your ears, and while I’m lucky enough to travel to some amazing places, home is always with me. That’s not a ritual, but a mindset that keeps me rolling. One ritual that’s always done well is BBQ. I try it everywhere. Yeah, even the Northeast. Hey, sometimes it’ll surprise you. Also, early mornings help me, and I may be the only person I’ve toured with that would say that. You’re a desert rat like myself - what was your latest getaway? Lauren and I hit up the dirt roads in and all around Terlingua. I’m having trouble not wanting to just go back every time we have a couple days off. Big Bend, the border, unmapped roads, and empty gas tank scares, it was perfect, and the mornings were unbelievable. How would you describe your personal style? I’m not into fussing about much. I like trusting the clothing just like I do people, and it has to fit well, on me and in a lightweight bag. Boots, the same jeans for years and years, perfect tees, and quality workwear I can play in.

Wear / Chimala Chambray Work Shirt Where / Austin, Texas

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caleb owen everitt Wear / Levis Trucker Jacket, J. Crew Shirt & RRL Jeans Where / Austin, Texas

caleb owen everitt & Ryan rhodes now collaborating as land, these two amazing designers create authetic and honest work. they find beauty and simple lines. we asked a few key questions. How did you begin designing hand crafted fonts & graphics? I think it stems from an appreciation and obsession with anything hand made. There could be the smallest imperfection, or indication, that a real human hand was involved along the way, and that subject is instantly more real and beautiful. So I think there is an inherent urge to try our best to put things out there that have that soul and character. Where does your inspiration come from? The past, dreams, symbolism, simplicity, nature, human endeavors, spirituality, work, song, “art”, death and motorcycles. (Things that have been around forever and still matter.) Take us through your thought process when creating a look for a client/brand. First, we listen. We find out what they’re passion is and try to compliment that with art and design. We tend to shy away from clever, and try to find a simple beauty that will stand on it’s own and engage a feeling. Sounds too deep,

but I guess I’m trying to say that there’s something to be said for trying to put beauty into the world, rather than rely on fleeting ideas. You’ve now working together as LAND. Talk a bit about this new collaboration. We’ve been friends for a while now and us working as LAND just sort of organically came together out of mutual respect for each other as people and makers. We both seem to appreciate the same things and seem to have similar ideals. It’s a free flowing process working together and a very motivating collaboration. There is an energy that transfers into the work. Your graphic style definitely carries over in to your personal sense of style, or vise versa. Where does your love of “heritage” come from? That must be the result of us seeing beauty and truth in function, necessity and simplicity. Heritage seems to embody a spirit of authenticity and honesty that we relate to and think the world needs more of.

ryan rhodes Wear / Levis Jeans, American Apparel Tee & Browning Boots Where / Austin, Texas

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wholesale director for denim brand imogene+willie, brian awitan takes a walk down fashion lane I was born in New York and raised in Texas, having spent the bulk of my formative and early adult yrs in the south. I have been fortunate to have had the opportunity to have lived in some amazing cities since; Austin, Dallas, Seattle, Brooklyn and Los Angeles. Based on those multiple locales, you’d think my wardrobe would have been defined by those elements and maybe in some instances there could be a case made for it. In reality it has been less about definition and more about refinement. Not necessarily a refinement in better quality or price (Lord knows I love a scratchy-ass 3-pack carded cotton tee as much as a coveted 40’s singles), but more a refinement for function and use. As I enter my 5th decade in this existence, I kinda look back at my wear/where profile like this: 0 - 10 yrs old = I needed to wear things. infancy, toddlerhood, etc. 10 − 20 yrs old = I was forced to wear things. what my mom bought me, what I thought I should wear based on my peers and what tribe I subscribed to in my teens. 20 − 30 yrs old = I let myself be tricked to wear things. Entering the workforce, you’re up to your own devices, have your own money and I voted with my dollars on good ad campaigns. I’m over simplifying, but when I look back at some of my consumption in that ten year period? Someone shoulda knocked me out. I will say, individuality is precarious thing…it’s great fun to experiment, try things out and find your way. 30 − 40 yrs old = Purchases seemed to have been made based on what I thought I was supposed to wear. At that stage with a proper job, you can chameleon into whatever flag you’re flying for whatever company. elbowing your way to some supposed ‘top’, I definitely subscribed to the “dress for the job you want, not the one you have”, to a certain extent. 40+ = I turned 42 yrs old this month and am getting closer and closer to (in my mind) what will eventually be the ultimate in refine-

ment; a pair of coveralls. My elderly, retired neighbor wears one every. single. day. I salivate in envy as his ONLY CHOICE is what color he will wear(!??!!). It’s an adult onesie, really…no thought, just fresh boxers and crisp white tee and the coveralls do the rest. little thought, and more time to consider what shape he’ll be curing the bamboo in his garden. For the time being, I find that my clothing essentials revolve around the finite combinations of 4 basic elements; 5 pkt jean, cargo pants, cardigan and a vest. Obviously not always all worn at once, all the time, but the functionality of pockets (and the multiple choices available) is the over-arching criteria. I hate. hate. hate. to carry things. In fact, in my own professional experience, I’ve found that the most powerful person in the meeting is the cat who shows up ONLY with a single pen! I work towards that, daily. My need to be as self-contained as possible is refinement for me. So much so that these days my purchases seem to be predicated only on an items’ ability for continuous overuse and it’s facility to pack-rat my every-day-carry needs. I’ll occasionally carry an empty bag so any additional procurements made on an outing can be stashed away in the carryall of my choice and not the stores’. I will also say this, I remain an avid consumer. Even if it’s the exact same shape/silhouette/fabric of a certain category of clothing… and even though I may only wear it a few times…I am always still purchasing. unlike what alot of people ‘seem’ to project, I am NOT a vintage collector or connoisseur. I like new things. new things done in an old way, but developed, adapted and refined. I like the notion of someone having taken something from its original intent and improving upon it in some way. I can appreciate old this and old that for what it is, but it’s simply not for me. Some people take shit too far, walking around like some crazy period perfect rebel rouser off central casting from gangs of New York. Let’s just say that my appreciation for the craft of doing something new in an old way, is more interesting to me than by simply possessing something that is old for olds’ sake.

Wear / Imogene+Willie Barton Rigid, Deus Ex Machina Striped Tee, I+W William Wool Hunting Vest, Vintage White Belt, Converse Black Leather Chucks, 45 rpm Red Polkadot Bandana, Tellason Deadstock Camo Bag, Deluxe Brass Key Ring, Moscot Nebb Clear, RTH Orange Pin with OG NYC Subway Token. Where / New York City

Futurism, with a Little Warmth

“So, let’s put the question differently: what things are contemporary? Consider a late-model car. It is a disparate aggregate of scientific and technical solutions dating from different periods. One can date it component by component: this part was invented at the turn of the century, another, ten years ago, and Carnot’s cycle is almost two hundred years old. Not to mention that the wheel dates back to Neolithic times. The ensemble is only contemporary by assemblage, by its design, its finish.” - Michel Serres, Conversations on Science, Culture, and Time

Nothing is purely modern. Artifacts of contemporary culture, cars or computers, say, are temporal assemblages -- their components were invented hundreds or thousands of years apart. I am a futurist, but the future I want to help create is not the industrial plastic pop of Karim Rashid; rather, it is something more like the library in Andrei Tarkovsky’s (1972) film Solaris, with its wooden bookcases, old leather-bound books, and 16th century paintings that occupy a humanistic cabin in an otherwise sterile and functionally-designed space station. Let me describe that goal as the desire to create “humanistic assemblages.” Anything we invent or design is an assemblage. My product development agency, salttt, is currently building a wireless speaker system. I sit here testing a prototype, playing the song “box wine” from the album “The exotic sounds of Courtney Jaye” on my iPhone which uses its Bluetooth transceiver to stream an A2DP audio signal to a module inside a base station which takes that audio signal and broadcasts it at 2.4 GHz to three wireless speakers positioned around my apartment. Two weeks ago, the components of that ensemble were scattered around southern China before being assembled inside a factory in Shenzhen. While nothing can replace the experience of sitting in a circle of friends with Courtney Jaye while she sings and plays live on her acoustic guitar, the invention of the system was motivated by the

needs of my friends to fill their living spaces with recorded music from their laptops and mobile phones. The design was inspired by the warmth of tea candles, which I have seen in my friends’ homes, though the final form of the product owes as much to the modernism of La Corbusier as to the ancient aesthetics of Zen candles; imagine Zen candles abstracted into pure thermoplastic cubes with hexagonal perforations around the perimeter that allow sound to radiate in place of light. If a time-traveller wanted to trace the origins of all of the components of this wireless speaker system, she’d have to travel to the 1870’s. There she’d find a vibrating diaphragm mounted in front of an electromagnet in the laboratory of Alexander Graham Bell. She’d then have to travel back to the 3rd Century BC, to Alexandria Egypt, where she’d find the Greek inventor Ctesibius hard at work on an early pneumatic sound production device. While she was there she could also visit a loadstone quarry in the ancient Greek city of Magnesia, where she’d witness the early production of magnets, like the ones inside the 3 wireless speakers. In order to highlight the debt that our wireless speaker system owes to inventions from the past, we have affixed a small wooden badge to the thermoplastic surface, about the size and thickness of a woodwind reed, recalling an ancient and venerable method of sound production.

no.08

style

Apple has gone far in humanizing our technologies of communication, but the Apple aesthetic evinces a stark elitism that was tempered by a humanistic warmth in the industrial design of Jonathan Ive’s predecessor and role model, Dieter Rams (though this may say as much about the ethos of the historical period of Apple’s ascendancy as it does about the Jobs-Ive design vision). Maria Bustillos, in her essay in The Awl, “Less Human Than Human: The Design Philosophy of Apple,” put it this way: “When machine-age, Futurist or Constructivist or Space-Age aesthetics have taken the reins, you’re looking at a period dominated by moneyed interests; one side of the pendulum swing. Progress, in the form of machines. Then people get to longing for a little chaos, dirt, a flower or two. This happened in the 1980s, for example, a time of truly frantic wealth-worship, the Reagan years, when Republicans began to succeed in their efforts to dismantle the New Deal. This too was a quite chilly era, designwise; the years of Yohji Yamamoto and Rei Kawakubo, the black-and-white world of Calvin Klein. It was a revival of machine-age Italian futurism; hard surfaces, stainless steel, sharp corners; everything black, grey or white.” The sort of futurism that Bustillos critiques has, especially in the wake of global recession, been challenged by the recent rise of heritage brands, artisanal modes of production, farm-to-fork, micro-distilleries, and so forth. In light of this, how do we now reform the design of our technologies of communication? I may be able to buy my selvedge denim jeans, chambray shirts, bow ties, vegetable-tanned leather belts, bacon, and whisky from friends who make them in Tennessee, but unless you want to communicate with tin cans attached with strings, you’ve got to embrace industrial materials and Taylorist-Fordist global supply chains. I don’t know the answer, but I know the direction. Three years ago, when I was working for Griffin Technology, a friend from NYC and I came up with the idea of a plush iPhone case for kids. Cold plastic and radiused aluminum isn’t so friendly to little hands -why can’t technology be soft and huggable? The product we developed, the Woogie, enfolds the iPhone inside a plush toy that could easily be a stuffed animal from the Arts & Crafts movement of the Victorian era. Two years ago I worked with my friend Colonel Littleton -- who boasts that everything in his workshop in Lynnville, Tennessee, could have been made in the mid 19th century -- to develop a dry mill leather case that makes holding an iPad feel more like holding an old leather-bound book. The goal of the sort of futurism I’m interested in should be to craft assemblages that create aesthetic and ethical value; this is the core of what I have called humanistic assemblages. Creating an ethical future begins with a respect for artisanal methods and craft. Only a futurism grounded in a respect for tradition will guarantee that humanistic values survive technological innovation and the industrial and global modes of production upon which it depends.

Wear / Billy Reid Blue Cotton Jacket & Gray Linen Shirt, Imogene+Willie Black Willie Jeans, Colonel Littleton Brown Leather Cinch Belt, Ray-Ban Aviator Sunglasses, Otis James Bowtie, J&HP Knitted Cotton Boutonniere, Vintage Floral Pocket Square Where / Nashville, Tennessee

no.09

dirt

iron&resin hooligan derby The smoke from half the bikes around me is causing me to get a little foggy behind my face shield, the noise has got to be the closest thing to an anthem for havoc. The racer in front of me has a sissy bar that is a good 2 feet tall with a taxidermy feline head staring back at me. This is definitely the most nervous and amped I’ve been in years. There is a crowd gathering around the staging area, eyes and cameras trying to catch everything they can about this bizarre grouping of motorcycles. It isn’t exactly helping the nerves, but how can you blame them? This is a sight uncommon to most organized motorcycle races. More than twenty misfit bikers have come to race their machines against one another, for no reward other than the pride earned from finishing. From a mixture of HarleyDavidson and Triumph choppers, vintage 2-strokes, and a couple cranky single cylinder thumpers...we’re all interested in just how tough each combination of rider and machine is. It is a beautiful day to remember. We met at the art studio where apparel brand Iron & Resin calls home, a brick walled retail space full of old screen prints from surf and moto culture, as well as a few oil spots from the bikes constantly parked out front. I’m late, and there are already 6 or so riders there. We are all geared up for the first round of ‘Iron & Resin Hooligan Derby.’ The idea was born from years of watching the withering race class and a desire to finally participate.

How hard could it be? We put out the word to our friends both locally in Ventura, California, as well as out to all our community throughout Southern California. At home on the coastline, we wrangled up a collection of ‘racers’ from the quiet edges of the county; Spanish, English, and Japanese machines from the 1960s and 70s all being represented. At the same time, the boys at BA Moto in Long Beach were finding number plates for their everyday rider modern Triumphs, and the Deus Ex Machina crew was working up something of their own for a surprise. We rode in line from the studio to the track, and were welcomed in the pits with looks of bewilderment. The ‘Hooligan’ class had not been this big previously, and never with such variety. We set up camp and began checking over the bikes and assembling the BBQ...we weren’t screwing around, this was a day we had all been waiting for and weren’t going to waste the opportunity to share in all the festivities.

Practice went by more slowly than anticipated, I could’ve useda few more laps for sure. My ‘68 BSA, with its cracked tires and noisy motor, had never been in the dirt, and I was sure that if I was going to take any risks it would be during the race itself, not practice. We spent the couple of hours between practice and heats all gearing up and taking in the excitement. The other groups had arrived and were happy to share their stories and their knowledge. We bade farewell to our 1974 Bultaco Pursang, as a failing magnet during practice kept it from the competition. Each bike had its shortcomings, and we did our best to put functional bandages in place. Shared a greasy basket of fries with a buddy, and waited. When we were called to staging, we passed around some mystery hooch for good luck, kicked our misfits to life, and smiled all the way. So...here I am, waiting for my turn to race against friends and strangers, all hoping for a little bit of glory in our simple competition. The purpose of the series was to grab the moto

community for a level of fun you can’t get by riding the coastline and sipping on some Mexican import beer. This was our chance to get a taste of our own ‘On Any Sunday,’ to get a pump of adrenaline, to put a smile on each of our faces that could hopefully last until the next race. It’s our turn, the smoke starts rising around us, the camera continue to click away. The shield of my helmet starts to fog up, I’m breathing heavier. We all kick up a little dust on our way to the starting line, and as the crowd starts to cheer for a group of hooligans like it hasn’t seen before, I see a grouping of likeminded riders, all smiles, ready to race.

Photography by Gustav Schmiege

no.10

music

And you wonder why your eyes got sore and wide , It’s just the same thing in a different light, when the same thing shows in a different light, Say you know but you ask why, Say you know, but you ask why, Say you know but you ask why, Pick it up, do it again, Say you’re down to the last line, Say you’re down to the last line, Say you’re down to the last line, This is for show, do it again, Partly for the hell of it, Solely out of boredom, Mostly for the story, It’s where you get your glorified high, More than one, hollow, sleepless night, Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics. com , Doctored vision in a different light, Where has all your muscle gone, With all the lies you take on, Say you know but you ask why, Say you know but you ask why, Say you know but you ask why, Pick it up, do it again, Say you’re down to the last line, Say you’re down to the last line, Say you’re down to the last line, This is for show, do it again

- Glorified High

with the release of her critically acclaimed sophomore album “the body wins”, singer/songwriter sarah jaffe talks iNspiration and style. What inspired the songs for the new ablbum? Being on the road a lot then being back home for awhile was a big inspiration. Writer’s Block was kind of an inspiration too. How do you feel it differs from “Suburban Nature”? Well that’s hard to see since theyre both coming from me. It’s just a growth musically. Just a bit bigger. As a singer/songwriter where do you feel you have grown the most between albums? Lryics? Crafting music? Probably musically. Just not as afraid as I used to be to pick up an instrument I’m not familiar with. What type of music do you remember hearing in your home

while growing up? And how, if at all, do you think it plays into what you create now? A lot of James Taylor, a lot of Cat Stevens, Joni Mitchell. Think it probably played quite an important role in one of the reasons I picked up a guitar. Creatively, now, what I listen to is all over the place. But those artists are still very much staples for me and they always will be. How has your personal style changed over the years? What do you feel most comfortable wearing off and on stage? My style changes in small ways all the time. The hair was a gradual thing. But I’m always a t-shirt and jeans kinda girl. It never really strays too far from that.


Refueled Issue 9