The bell rang; the students fell into their chairs, and lights began to appear through the halls… “And this also,” said Josh Bodenstein suddenly, “has been one of the poorly dressed places of the earth… We live in the flicker—may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But bad fashion was here yesterday. Imagine the feelings of a student in a fire class of—what d’ye call ’em?—Opium heads! After years of nothing but v-necks, basketball shorts, Vans and Hot Topic.”
Rejoice! We, as Bodenstein, the spinner of stories, hath foretold, are in the midst of a Yorktown Fashion Revolution! Paralleling, perhaps, the confluence of art and fashion at couture shows across the globe, our school has been more fitted than we have been in almost three millennia—since Yorktown’s Class of 1004 BCE stepped on the graduation stage head-to-toe in Margiela, shaking the world—from the Zia Pueblo to Iranian Pastoralists—to its core.
Even in just the time from our first to our, now, third installment of Drip or Drown, our school has experienced a torrential downpour. The weather is warming, so put on your jorts (Not too high. Yeah. No, right there, yeah. No, they should sit below the knee. I don’t know, it just looks goofy above the knee) and some shoes perhaps a wee bit tighter than Birk Bostons, because we’re embarking on a journey to the heart of basic and witnessing storm and inferno: Yorktown’s—nay! Dare I say it?—Arlington’s drippiest, most fire, and most oxymoronic fits circa April 8, 2024.
Now, as I conduct this ethnography of drip, let me first explain my methodology: I am photographing not street fashion per se, but a sort-of hall fashion. Finding our school’s hardest fits in the halls of our school, though, is an exact science. I’ve located the halls in which our school’s best dressers linger: First is the art hallway (i.e., artsy kids are artsy).
Just outside the hall, I encountered Delaney Lack and Braedon Stone. Lack is clad in camo pants and a brown top; Stone in all black and a pair of Birk Bostons. As the two joked in the halls, they didn’t seem surprised when I tapped them for Drip or Drown.
“I’m just like that,” Stone said.
Stone designs street-influenced couture, and specializes in denim and jewelry. But even in comfort wear—baggy sweats and a tight tee—Stone’s outfit speaks through its fine attention to proportion, a philosophy reflected in his denim brand, which is omnipresent in the halls of Yorktown.
As we leave Lack and Stone and move across the first floor, we find our second spot: the theatre hallway. Another bastion of the arts at our school, Yorktown Theatre classes are celebrating today after last weekend’s performance of Les Miserables. As I walk into a classroom, the students are watching a movie version of the musical.
There, I found Justin Braunstein in class. Braunstein’s fashion choices are notable for his emphasis on thrifted tees. While today Braunstein rocks a New York Islanders tee, he can be found in our school’s halls wearing an assortment of well-fitted, but strangely-branded, tees. His outfits seem thrifted, which is impressive, considering that the men’s thrift and secondhand scene in the DMV is notoriously difficult to navigate.
Tee shirts aside, Braunstein’s blue jeans and new balances work together to curate the impression of a 90s-influenced style.
Searching for water in the mid-third period drip-drought, I saw from afar what I believed was a mirage: Balenciaga shoes. As I looked up, I realized it was no mirage. It was an oasis wandering the halls. His name? Youssef Soliman. Over the course of 3rd and Patriot periods, I must’ve seen Soliman scolded by administrators at least four times all across the school. That doesn’t convince him to go back to class, though.
Instead, he stays posted up in a second floor hallway, rocking his “mental health matters” tee. His long-overdue bathroom pass is crucial drip. When I asked if I could photograph his outfit, the underclassmen excitedly requested he could put on the light-up feature on his designer shoes. As I walk away, an administrator begins, again, to tell him to get back to class.
As I make my way toward our third spot, the proportion of well-dressed students begins to spike. We’ve reached the humanities wing of the second floor. The small, but dense, hallway is home to The Yorktown Sentry, as well as our school’s Literary Magazine. It’s also home to English teachers Mr. Klein, Ms. Wiedemann, Mr. Wiltshire, and Ms. Dillon, all of whom house their share of students dressed with indie influences.
For example, the seemingly studious Evie Pair (like a pair of shoes, she tells me) catches my eye as she sits at a desk in the halls. She drowns out the commotion of the Patriot Period halls with a pair of chunky black headphones, which have become increasingly common over the past two school years, replacing AirPods. Underneath, she dons a Navy SEALs cap and a Deli Italiano hoodie, repping our neighborhood’s local businesses. She seems casual as she completes what looks like an essay, wearing embroidered jeans and embellished converse. Her shoes are scuffed up perfectly.
In the humanities wing, it seems, jeans are more common than almost anywhere else in a school dominated by sweatpants and pullover hoodies.
Senior Ella Haynes and history teacher Kevin Bridwell can both be found wearing baggy jeans. Above Haynes’ jeans, a thrifted green top. Note the chunky black headphones, similar to the pair Pair is wearing.
Also notable: Bridwell’s brown shoes. While most people select from a few shoes (the Reebok Vintage, Nike Blazer, Adidas Samba, or Birkenstock Boston, for example), the history teacher’s elegant shoes are likely completely unique in Yorktown’s halls—and some of the best.
Also emphasizing jeans, but combining blue denim with influences from opium aesthetics—a grunge aesthetic inspired by rappers on the Opium record label—is Yorktown’s most successful underground rapper, Jonas Robledo.
Robledo, who raps under the name Shyu, sees himself as a visionary.
The junior dons a pair of Margiela shoes and a Chrome Hearts tee with printed graphic chains. He notes to me that the shirt was bought on Grailed, one of our school’s favorite websites to find clothes.
Most noticeable, perhaps, is Robledo’s choice of jeans. They’re skinny. A departure from his baggy style last year, Robledo has embraced the skinny jean this year, along with many other hallmarks of the 2010s, including adding a Rio De Janeiro filter or adding hashtags to his social media posts. He has been clear in his rejection of “baggier is better” philosophy in street fashion.
As the lunch bell rings, a thunderstorm. Metaphorically, of course. It is sunnier than a sunny day, outside. But the drip is dripping (capital d) at our school. As students rush to the Atrium and the Cafeteria, I’m photographing too many students to count—from individuals to squads. Below are some of the best:
