What The Kids Are Up To | Games | Fashion | Travel | Design | Nightlife | and More!
THE LOHI - ISSUE NO. 1 EDITOR IN CHIEF Chris Menendez CREATIVE DIRECTOR Moises Esquenazi PRODUCTION Laura Suarez CONTRIBUTORS Suzette Guy Joyce Esquenazi Nicholas Lattimore Brianna Dooley Brenda Ramirez Luiza Solano Moises Esquenazi Santiago Rodriguez Tarditi
I’ve enjoyed the art of storytelling since I was a little kid. I remember picking giant taro leaves from my mother’s garden and writing poems to Mother Nature on them. Somewhere between the taro leaves and an undergraduate degree in English, magazines became my passion. My interests led me to an editorial internship at Vanity Fair magazine, where I fell for the blinding power of brands. Since then, as a copywriter in advertising, I’ve been crafting taglines, scripting TV commercials, and tugging at the emotional strings that make you want things. The undeniable allure of print stayed with me through the last decade and has finally materialized in the Lo-Hi. The Lo-Hi is my connection with my gut. It aims to inspire balance in the way we think and live. If I can convince people to see the magic in the “Lo” while still enjoying the “Hi,” then I’ve succeeded. xoxo
Chris Menendez @theonlychristhatmatters
THE LO-HI IS... 1.
A plain white tee, jeans, and the right designer sneaker
Sneaking into an invite-only party/being the life of the party
Getting published and not bragging
Sending nudes with good lighting
Finding a city’s vibe at a local bed and breakfast, then indulging at the nearest Aman
Eating crap food all day/ drinking top-shelf all night
THE LO-HI ACKNOWLEDGES STYLE IN AUTHENTICITY. IF THERE’S GRIT, THEN IT’S A GOOD FIT.
Briefcase and art by: Joyce Esquenazi (@joyce_esq)
Photographs by: Moises Esquenazi @moitoymoitoy / Styled by: Brianna Dooley @crushedleather / Produced by: Chris Menendez @theonlychristhatmatters
Theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not your average crew riding around the block, though; youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re more likely to see them doing wheelies into oncoming traffic on a congested Downtown Miami avenue.
If you encounter Bike Life, don’t freak out. Think of them as a brotherhood – like the kids in The Goonies or Stand by Me – but always on bikes. They’re not your average crew riding around the block, though; you’re more likely to see them doing wheelies into oncoming traffic on a congested Downtown Miami avenue. Bypass the hijinks, though, and their purpose is a breath of fresh air. The crew’s motto is “Bikes Up, Guns Down,” a narrative shift from national headlines about gun violence plaguing inner-city communities, schools, and places of worship across the country. The Bike Life enterprise originates from the urban motorcycle and ATV community. According to The New York Times: “Bike Life culture was created and sustained by black communities in places like Harlem, the Bronx, Baltimore, and Philadelphia.” What started as local meetups has grown into a global phenomenon that transforms city streets into urban playgrounds for horsepower, torque, and egos. It’s a hot Saturday afternoon in early summer. No clouds are in the sky, but the humidity makes the air feel thick enough to swim in. Catching up with Bike Life kids is like trying to catch a squirrel that found a salted peanut on its home turf. They see no obstacles and crave the adrenaline. Every street intersection they reach is like a new scene in a play. The kids hype each other up, zipping through traffic to the loud hip-hop blaring through their headphones. The riskier the move, the more clout they receive. The only hope in intersecting them is at one of the drawbridges on Miami Beach’s Venetian Causeway, which lifts and blocks traffic every 30 minutes. The contingent makes a left on West Avenue and heads towards the Venetian Causeway drawbridge. Zach, the unequivocal leader of the pack, sees a yacht approaching and signals them to pick up the pace. The drawbridge bell sounds tired and flat behind the chorus of “fucks” and “shits” coming from the crew as the bridge lifts. They weren’t going anywhere for the next 10 minutes. The Lo-Hi needed to approach them quick, but we found ourselves feeling nervous. Most interactions with them we’d witnessed were from irate luxury car owners. But we thought, “What’s the worst that could happen?” We wave Zach down, and he lowers his candy red Beats headphones and lets out a nonchalant “Sup?” We ask for their Instagram handles as a sign of peace and tell them we want to bring them into our studio for a photoshoot. As the drawbridge lifts, the kids start to mobilize and laugh at a joke that’s inaudible to us. In this moment, we know we’re witnessing something special. Sure, their illicit hobby of terrorizing drivers and tourists isn’t the most kosher, but Bike Life is introducing a sense of hope and WD-40 into our corroded system where digital isolation and loneliness run rampant. It’s a breath of fresh air during a time where violence keeps kids from playing outside. Their camaraderie outweighs the costs of a few temporary disturbances. Filled with hope and the help of a stylist (@crushedleather), we organize a photoshoot a week later, unaware that coordinating a group of teenage rebels is harder than decoding the human genome. On the day of the shoot, the first group pulls up, drenched in sweat, and two hours past call time. They populate the street outside the studio seeking refuge in anything that resembles shade. Ant, a 12-year-old from North Miami, is the first to arrive and nods his head. “These fools went to the wrong street,” he says. Ant’s glossy black bike reads “Big Flyer” in yellow letters that complement his matching spoke covers. We hear Zach’s voice coming around the corner. He pulls up on his red “Big Ripper” bike, wearing those same red Beats headphones and a red Nike outfit to complete his look. He pedals with three others from Miami Beach to join the group. Zach: “We thought you said 77th street?” Lo-Hi: “No, the flyer we made said the location is on 27th street!” Zach: “We gotta meet the rest of the group by Government Center. But first, check out my tattoo.” Zach, aka “Bike Life Poodle,” slides back a plastic wrap on his inner arm to show off his newly minted ink: the word “Poodle” in thin, black cursive.
The Lo-Hi needed to approach them quickly, but we found ourselves feeling nervous. Most interactions we’d witnessed were with irate luxury car owners. But we thought, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
The Lo-Hi team jumps on bikes and follows the group heading south on Miami Avenue. Reality slaps us hard as Zach rides into oncoming traffic while standing on his bike seat with one foot. Would our camera shutter capture death by Prius or death by Range Rover? We look at each other and silently agree this is all part of the experience. This is normal. This is normal. We meet the rest of the group, which ranges from ages 11 to 19, at their usual meetup spot at the Government Center station. Now, if only they hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t disregarded the flyer and dozens of reminders in the group chat. Did we mention itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hard to coordinate street rebels? Everyone looks defeated from the trek from 77th street. Some came riding on repurposed mountain bikes. Others rode atop glossy bikes that match their shoes. Some are on bikes two sizes too small that clearly used to have training wheels attached. When word of a pizza delivery back at the studio reaches the group, they start to look alive. The sounds of bike chains and rubber turning aggressively on cement leave us baffled as we notice the herd is moving on without us. Trailing behind them at a safe distance, we start catching onto the nuances that make up Bike Life: the way they lean into their pedals; the faces they make when landing a trick; and the way they encourage each other to try a scary move that breaks through the glass ceiling of fear. At that moment, the whole thing feels overtly emotional.
David pops a wheelie on a green mountain bike with squeaky brakes and brushes the side of a Mercedes S550 driving in the opposite direction. Ant, the runt of the group, pedals to the corner and hides behind bushes. (FYI, we’re now three hours behind schedule.) He throws leaves and branches at his friends that pedal by him. It’s safe to say that every group of friends has an Ant. When the kids head into four lanes of oncoming traffic and stand on their bikes for the second time, we figure it’s best to relocate and take the backroads. Zach suggests we use the barricaded street in front of the county jail to head west. Our camera shutter is non-stop, much like the attention they receive from inmates looking down from their cells. A loud tapping noise starts coming from the jail’s bulletproof windows. James, who is well-mannered and shy, says, “All they got in there is a toilet and a bed.” Zach replies: “Really? That sucks, man.” It’s clear that the group comes from different backgrounds and that their hobby is their bonding agent. The conversation pivots as Zach dares Mike, a new member, to attempt a wheelie. The kids line up and cheer Mike on as he readies himself. The brotherhood is palpable. Anytime an angry bystander screams at the kids (this happens often), the pack stops and makes sure no one’s been hit. Sometimes, they’ll even bark at the disgruntled and outnumbered civilian. A security guard appears out of nowhere just as Mike lands his pseudo wheelie. He warns us that the cops are on their way. Zach, mocking the stocky, bearded security guard, hollers, “Rick Ross just called the cops. Let’s ride y’all.”
Photographed by: Nicholas Lattimore / Hair styled by: Jenni Wimmerstedt / Model: Julia Abe / Makeup by: Cici Chang
W A B I S A B I finding the beauty in imperfection
To the untrained eye, this house in Oaxaca, Mexico may seem unfinished—a pristine construction site if you would. But a closer look reveals the inherent imperfections that make up the final product. Rough edges and the stamp of wood grain tell the laborious story of molding concrete into walls. Acting like a blank slate absorbing moods and noise, the house is a perfect retreat from the busy city center. Architect Ludwig Godefroy designed the building, and the furnishings are by Emmanuel Picault.
Great art collectors have the ability to spot masterpieces; the world’s best collectors can spot masterpieces hidden behind damages and natural wear. Take Dr. Joseph Kurstin, one of the world’s leading collectors of Japanese netsuke. Dr. Kurstin jumped at the news of a fellow collector doing away with a netsuke piece that was badly chipped. In the hands of a master repairman, the piece was transformed, and he’s since received several six-figure offers for it. The piece isn’t for sale, and serves as a reminder that masterpieces are still masterpieces, even when they’re damaged or worn.
I remember spending summers driving around my father’s coffee farm in Central America in an old, hunter green Toyota Land Cruiser. The truck’s side panels were always caked with peanut butter-like mud and smelled like moss having just been ripped off of wet bark. Summer would end with a bittersweet return home to the United States. The reverse culture shock was impressive; shiny new cars with buttons and screens were overwhelming and lacked the Land Cruiser’s narrative.
Chipped tiles. Worn-in Adidas Originals. Creaky wooden floors. Grey mornings. Your grandmother’s vintage glasses. An approaching storm. An abandoned building. An empty lot overgrown with greenery. Mountains peeking behind a field of coffee pickers. Barragán clay pots collecting moss during the rainy season. An old alligator skin wallet worn from excessive shining. A dirty Volvo station wagon. A city block with buildings embracing different styles. An artist’s dirty hands.
chances were taken on crescent days when projections bled white; forgetting that even if hollow they burned, still when you least expect it sweat is no longer sensual and we must breathe in search of a culprit.
Poem by: Santiago Rodriguez Tarditi (@rodrigueztarditi)
Be Evita Peron Be Evita Peron - any- time, any place. any time, any place. Marrakech, Morocco Marrakech, Morocco
The town always The town dogdog always knows knows where where the party is at. the party is at. Milos, Greece Milos, Greece
Acceptyouâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll pack theoutfit. Accept nevernever pack the perfect perfect Tokyo, Japanoutfit. Tokyo, Japan
Do waitaround around theairhot air toballoon Do wait for for the hot balloon deflate. to deflate. Atlas Mountains Atlas Mountains
Scan radio foror classical or Scan the the locallocal radio for classical jazz. jazz. Always classical or jazz. Always classical or jazz. Milos, Greece Greece
Take offyour your run through Take off toptop and and run through the field.the field. South France South of of France
Stop notice the trash. Stop andand notice the trash. Marrakech, Marrakech, MoroccoMorocco
Do request the hunter green
Do request the hunter green hull for the hull for the Mediterranean. Mediterranean. Milos, Greece Milos, Greece
Middle America cool too, you know (dontcha know). The off-season is thecan newbe in-season. Jackson Hole, Wyoming Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Karaoke continues in the taxi. The more hygge the less sub-Saharan Tokyo, Japan heat you feel. Marrakech, Morocco
Never bring bring threesomes when a of long Never up up threesomes or ____ whensitting at a longat table strangers table of strangers in a foreign country. in a foreign country. Valle Del Mexico Bravo, Mexico Valle Del Bravo,
The more hygge hygge, less The more the the less sub-Saharan heat you feel. sub-Saharan heat you feel. Marrakech, Morocco Marrakech, Morocco
Submerge inofwater often. Loren de Ponde Limints Mykonos, Cairo, Egypt Greece
The off-season The off-season is theis newthe in-season. new in-season. Jackson Hole, Wyoming Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Last Night a DJ Saved My Life
Superglue – New York, NY It was supposed to be a laid-back Friday night. My friend calls and tells me he’s on his way with tickets to see our favorite DJ. The hook: the crowd is heavy B&T. Getting ready in a rush, I found myself putting my heels on in the elevator. I noticed a giant puddle as I stepped out of the cab. The drain sticks out like a desert oasis and welcomes my heel, only to snap it in half. I limped to a deli, with my favorite black heel in hand, bought super glue, and glued the heel back on. The glue held until 2:00 AM when the music got really good – I was jumping up and down. The heel gave out on me, but I didn’t care. Thanks, DJ.
High-Pony Helicopter – Madrid, Spain My best friend has a lethal late-night move that never fails to cause trouble. She grabs her thick Italian ponytail and whips it around like a “helicopter.” One night, she whipped a bouncer in the eye and was being escorted out until the DJ said, “Bring that blonde to me.” Thanks, DJ.
Disco Ball – Miami Beach, FL
Be Your Own DJ – Cairo, Egypt
My friends and I like getting to clubs early to have the dancefloor to ourselves. There’s something amazing about doing cartwheels and splits. Also, being able to request whatever song you want without dealing with annoying bitches is always a plus.
I went to a destination wedding where the music was playing from an iPod Shuffle, and due to religious reasons, you had to bring your own liquor. My friends and I arrived at the rehearsal dinner with tequila and replaced the iPod Shuffle with a killer playlist, which drove everyone onto the dancefloor (very Jungle 2 Jungle). Sometimes, you have to save your own life and be your own DJ.
Foggy Birthday – Los Angeles, CA
Have You Met My Chocolate Diamonds? – Mexico City, Mexico
Two of my family members got into a fistfight at my birthday dinner. The DJ turned down the lights, played a French version of “Happy Birthday,” and put the fog machine into high gear. I almost forgot how fucked up my family was as the servers brought a cake over with sparklers. Thank You, DJ.
Gallery openings are synonymous with chitchat. Little did I know that feeding a compliment to a woman wearing a camo outfit would turn into a 10-minute conversation about her chocolate diamond earrings. Learning about the weight, cost, and source of this woman’s earrings was not in my plans for the evening. A DJ appears in the corner of the gallery, and it’s the perfect opportunity to pretend that a friend is signaling me to dance. Thank you, DJ.
Scavenger Hunt HOW IT WORKS:
x YOU YOU RR FO FO
1. On Instagram, navigate to the account listed on the right column.
2. Find the post that best matches the prompt in the left column and send it to @lohimag as a direct message.
3. When in doubt, get creative.
4. Questions with subjective answers will be scored at the Lo-Hi’s discretion.
5. Blue questions are worth 5 points; orange 3 points; and all others are worth 1 point.
1. Find a video where you can understand La Ñata speaking.
2. Find a song that turns you on
3. Find a collaboration with Amy Sedaris
4. Find a must-have wardrobe piece
5. Find a pretty pussy
6. The winners will be announced on April 1st.
7. Find an abstract piece in a field.
8. Find the bar designed for Yves Saint-Laurent and Pierre Bergé
9. Find yourself in a collage
10. Find a ladybug
11. Tag your 4:59 Friday face
12. Find the rising sun
13. Find the quilted man
14. Find a can of Sunkist
15. Find Myrlande Constant’s Voudu flags
16. Find a pink body-positive JVN post
17. Find an obvious sponsored post by Ms. Juicy
18. Find a wind-up tiger
19. Insult us in Portuguese
20. Find a crying neon piece
21. Find the most cringey @sasrahsquirm post
22. Find a picture of Rebecca More’s nipples
23. Find a new piece for your living room
24. Find Ernie and Bert
25. Find your celebrity crush
26. Find the editor’s next vacation spot
27. Find the trippiest Cindy selfie
28. Find a picture of Angeline’s pink Corvette
29. Find Henri’s latest release
30. Find a perverted graphic
31. Find the best pick-me-up of the day
32. Find artwork by Ana Mendieta
33. Find the portrait by Mapplethorpe of Louise Bourgeois holding a phallus
34. Find artwork by Maria Lassnig
6. Submissions will be analyzed by our Chancho3000 Quantum Gigaflop.
UU AKAK U U WW AKAK WW
7. The winners will be announced on May 15th.
1. An afternoon on a yacht with six your friends 2. A Mercedes Salazar bag 3. A signed print @xiaofanx 4. The Lo-Hi will donate $1 per answer submitted (correct or incorrect) to UNICEF
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Lo-Hi Personals/Missed Connections You tried robbing me a month ago, but I caught you breaking in. We locked eyes for a second, and I knew there was something special between us. I waited 20 minutes before I called the cops. I would love to take you out for dinner. - Frank I’m a TSA agent at Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. It was a Wednesday morning. Your toiletries were not sealed properly, and I was tasked with putting them in a quart-sized Ziploc bag. The floor was cold, and you shivered as I passed my hands over your hairy knees. Were you cold, or were you interested in me? I’d like to know. - Sandra I lived on the fifth floor, and you lived on the fourth floor across the street from me in Williamsburg. We used to wave at each other while we watched TV in our underwear alone. I moved, and I miss you. - Ian
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