I’m from the era of raw and unfiltered Brown Sugar when D’Angelo would’ve sung smooth circles around Chris Brown, and Sidney Shaw, portrayed by Sanaa Lathan, solicited us all to reflect on when we fell headfirst in love with hip hop. The era that birthed and raised me is also responsible for nurturing the genius that manifested as a rose sprouting from concrete, and the ingenuity that breathed new life into the House of Gucci after the untimely demise of its prodigal son Maurizio. It is an era that is as equal parts Tupac Amaru Shakur as it is Tom Ford. An era that taught us with great controversy and daring audacity for survival comes the greatest art and innovation. So… When did I fall in love with hip hop?
The answer isn’t as complex as it is amusing and perhaps endearing. My conscious self would rattle off a date, artist, and song title, but the subconscious voice within me boldly proclaims it’s the moment my unborn fetus wading within my mother’s womb could detect and internalize the soundwaves bellowing from my father’s stolen sound system. He’ll tell you my uncles happened to have a spare system or two, but my adopted uncle, Eazy-E, mellifluously chronicles how ‘Boyz-N-the-Hood’ forge such come ups. But I digress…
I am inarguably the product of one funky 1987 mixtape that narrates the evolution of the Bronx’s baby as it traveled to the West Coast and graduated from the streets of Compton. I am the child of Kool Moe Dee’s ‘Wild Wild West’ ever intent to ‘Make It Funky’ as Ice-T and quick to remind anyone who challenges my bravado ‘I Ain’t No Joke’ like Eric B. & Rakim.
However, in all truthfulness, although hip hop has set the foundation for my earliest sense of identity, it was often a second language I didn’t fully understand or appreciate. Living with my maternal grandparents in an upper-middle class, white, suburban neighborhood, playing the part as the neighborhood ‘Fresh Princess’ wore on me most days, and I often suppressed an inherent affinity to the beats and rhymes that had pulsated within me since birth. For a time, I renounced hip hop, like Peter playing Jesus to the left, as it was more important for me to practice covering than forsake assimilation and endure additional taunts and torments from my bubble gum pop pedaling peers.
Now, what does this have to do with fashion and catwalk talk? Literally everything. My dueling passions desperately sought a sign and a savior. I needed a Chanel clad, razor tongued, Fairy God-artist to foretell my future and mentor my meandering imagination. Enter stage right, Kimberly Denise Jones. The Notorious K.I.M. La bella fuckin’ don herself. Lil’ Kim the Queen Bee. The matriarch of Bad Boy and the messiah I long awaited, who taught me how to tell my ‘Player Haters’ ‘Fuck You’ and ‘No Matter What They Say’ I’m still the ‘Queen Bitch.’ Kids of the 90’s are built different. To call us ‘Hardcore’ is an understatement.
Kim’s provocative lyrics unapologetically thrust a shockwave through hip hop with the force of a 9.5 magnitude earthquake. Simultaneously, she perpetuated a metamorphosis of self-expression through the means of creatively curated couture from the most well-recognized and well-respected designers known within the fashion industry. While fashion and hip hop had already begun to merge with the signature Adidas and Kangol uniform donned by Run D.M.C. in the 80’s, it had yet to reach the elevation Kim bolstered at the turn of the decade. Kim represented a new intersection within hip hop in which image became a critical element of an artist’s self-expression and branding. Through her, hip hop entered a marriage with the finest houses of design, and 1994 became my official anniversary with hip hop.
Fashion along with hip hop has been an essential element of my pedigree and the former is accredited to the mentorship of my glamazon maternal grandmother. While she may not have fully understood my tastes in my music, she saw within me the makings of a fashionista in her own likeness and afforded me access and exposure to luxury and labels that would’ve alluded me had I been raised on the means of my parents alone. Under her guidance, as well as the influence of Lil’ Kim and her numerous predecessors, I not only shaped my persona but merged passions that ultimately rely on one another to exist. Through the means of fashion, my grandmother taught me style and grace as if she’d penned lines for Notorious B.I.G. himself. My father taught me the dozens and word play through the stylings of hip hop and avowed a lyrical cadence to my speech and writing. However, the coalescence of my two passions is thanks to hip hop’s reigning Queen Bee.
It’s impossible to talk hip hop or fashion exclusively as they inspire and challenge each other’s spaces. They chronicle where we’ve been as a society, narrate our current condition, and translate our trajectory for the future. To ask myself when I fell in love with hip hop is to ask my earliest memory of self-discovery and what authenticity does for art. My most sacred rite of passage was witnessing the officiation of hip hop and fashion and embracing my destiny as a Menace II the Runway.
Stay dialed in, fam. I’m just getting started.
-Tatiana ‘Mackaveli’ Manaea
My Ambitions Az a HOYA 