Angel Dust: The Hood By Air Renaissance
What first caught my attention with “fashion,” which meant streetwear to me at the time, in late 2015 and 2016 was the remnants of a style I grew up loathing: all black, dropped crotches with bold, white text blasting all manner of absurd phrases, black hoodies, and various Rick Owens sneakers which, frankly, I thought looked liked clown shoes. We all know that goofy edit of Steve Jobs dressed like a young 6ix9ine— it’s hilarious to think people actually dressed like that. I came to associate this aesthetic with two predominant camps: BEEN TRILL and HOOD BY AIR. Been Trill was quick to pass from my mind; the designs were grotesque and, more than anything, reminded me of the cheaply printed tees you might buy from a tourist shop on the boardwalk. Hood By Air, though, stuck with me. A year or two later I remember remarking to a friend, “it’s a pity Hood By Air isn’t very good because the name is incredible.”
Slowly, though, the brand started to creep into my mind. That radar longsleeve is pretty cool. The “HBA” patches velcroed onto the knees of jeans, the graphics which more than anything reminded me of some punk or industrial bootlegs I’d find on a Shopify site. And then I began to learn about the brand’s philosophy: a collective of young designers creating clothes inspired by what they saw everyday, a collaborative process more often than not birthed from hanging out with friends. In the early 2010s, it was HBA runway shows that brought bloggers and new age writers to their front row. The label sourced models from clubs and parties. And once the philosophy was there, I once again started looking at the designs. There is something kind of tight about replacing a sweatshirt’s sleeve with a sling. Those two-in-one cowboy boots are shocking in an undeniably cool way. And, being me, I was quick to figure that one shirt is a Youth of Today rip. So many of the designs are grotesque, with extra limbs and bizarre cuts, but in a way that’s sterile. It reeks of Vetements or Off White, but a couple years earlier. I love the androgyny— models all wearing the same draped clothing, thigh-high patent leather stilettos, spiky hair, chokers, gender being secondary. Though this obviously plays into a gender-inclusive narrative, it also says to me that the wearer or is secondary to the garment itself. In a Kerwin Frost interview with Shayne Oliver and collaborator Ian Isiah, Isiah described their approach to design as “fashion over style.”
But what makes Hood By Air special to me? Besides the wacky cowboy boots and the Youth of Today rip, the answer is simple: no bullshit. In an age of Kim Jones destroying Dior by collaborating with god-awful Instagram artists and LVMH hiring Virgil so they can market runway fashion as streetwear, there’s something beautifully HBA about HBA. It’s a middle finger to the traditional runway; it’s not designed to sell to anyone in particular. If you like it, you like it. If you don’t? That’s your problem.
HBA occurred at the perfect time in the internet. Diversity of thought allowed a place for the brand’s bold imagery and inflammatory statements. They were able to design in a collaborative environment long since adopted by the likes of Virgil. They could balance the HBA line, consisting mostly of graphic tees sold almost entirely through online retailers, with the elegance of a runway line sold almost entirely in boutiques. They used the internet; they didn’t depend on it.
Of course I love the internet— I devote a huge chunk of my time to working on a blog and I spend the rest of my time communicating with friends, many of whom I wouldn’t have met without the internet. But I think the internet has in many ways been the death of individuality and creativity. Take one of my favorite brands, Arc’teryx, for example. One week it’s the brand for people driven by utility and with a knowledge and need for rugged outdoor gear. A week or two later, and I can’t go on my Instagram explore without seeing a dozen moodboards posting clean-cut finance bros sporting my beloved archaeopteryx skeleton. In an age when all basic information is easily and instantly accessible, it feels like brands are being constantly forced to tell us a story to remain relevant. But these stories have long been stale. Hood By Air has evolved as a label without playing this identity game; it started as t-shirts, but the brand and its creators show no real desire to tell me a story. I’ve expressed my love Undercover, but Jun Takahashi’s “story” has long since crumbled into little more than a passing interest in music and a love for Stanley Kubrick. I’d argue HBA is far more punk than the likes of Vivienne Westwood who, forty years later, is still riding the coattails of having once designed some punk clothes without any evolution or more compelling design. Hood By Air is rife with references and inspiration, but it doesn’t scream it at you. It’s like laying in bed one night and suddenly realizing your favorite band tee is a rip-off of a ‘90s Morrissey shirt. If you sat me down, gun to my head, and asked if I like the clothes Hood By Air has made, I don’t know what I’d tell you. I don’t even think there’s a right answer. I love the philosophy, but that’s not to say that printing “PUSSY” in bold is some design breakthrough. That doesn’t matter, though. Hood By Air isn’t for me— Hood By Air isn’t for anyone.
