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Taylor Tomasi Hill Gets the 'Fuck Yeah Menswear' Treatment

In 2010, Lawrence Schlossman and Kevin Burrows created Fuck Yeah Menswear, a blogging ode to the often over-hyped exclusive internet world of #menswear. The posts are poems peppered with #menswear jargon, based on a street style shot of some ridiculously well-dressed dude. When it launched, the pair were anonymous, leading to much speculation about the project's creators. However, due to the overwhelming success and a book deal, Schlossman and Burrows had to unmask themselves. We've been fans since Fuck Yeah Menswear's birth, but we always were wondering how they'd take on women's style. And so, in honor of their newly released book—which you can buy at Amazon.com—we asked them to wax (rap?) poetic on Moda Operandi's Unicorn of Style, Taylor Tomasi Hill:

Photo by HB Nam of Streetfsn.com.

Pull up to the spot in the cherry red CR-V.

Lex RX bubble in the shop.

Throwin’ keys at the nearest intern.

Let ‘em play valet for the day.

What's that?

Excuse you.

Fuck I look like?

Some midwest S-mom?

On the way to pick up the kids?

From practice?

Yeah I'm picking up “the kids”.

Samps from P-Schouler.

Peep the MO.

Modus operandi.

Money over.

Everything.

#1 queen bee.

Straight outta the Lone Star.

Apologies to Hov.

I be greater than B.

Make Sasha look like Foxy.

Aint no swagga like the one I’ve got.

Simp bitches couldn’t even see my colorist.

Ivy straight poisonous.

Editors sweat under cowls.

They copped last season.

When their parents got murked.

Two-faced hoes.

Toss and turn.

During the darkest of nights.

Waiting.

For the presses to stop.

For my next snap to drop.

For my next look to pop.

For the next piece to shop.

For their dreams to flop.

Aslaug chirping ya girl nonstop.

Santo Domingo tryna FaceTime.

Don’t they understand?

I got my own MO.

Magnum Opus.

Move Out.

The way.

Bitch.

It’s Pheebs again.

Blowing up my berry.

Tired of responding.

Doling out advice.

On next season.

Ugh.

Gauche, bro.

You think I shop for groceries?

In grosgrain?

You think I cut coupons?

In cut-offs?

You think I breast feed?

In dub breasts?

Black trim voodoo.

Stuntin’ on a Jumbotron.

When your drobe's on roids.

It's hard not to hit for the cycle.

Every.

Single.

Day.

Money long.

Pockets longer.

Sure as fuck don’t need ‘em.

The world is like these invites.

Held in my hands.

Don’t forget the MO.

Motherfucking ostentatious.

Motherfucking original.

MOTHERFUCKING OUTSTANDING.

 

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