Standing in a Y-3 store on Greene Street in Soho—the sole retail outpost for New York Japanese fashion designer Yohji Yamamoto—A$AP Ferg checks himself out in a corner made of mirrors. Head to toe, he’s dressed in a lime green colored thing that kind of looks like a jumpsuit crossed with a trench coat crossed with some overalls, something he’ll later refer to as “high-fashion shit.” The attending clerk is certain he will like this look, touching and pulling on various strings and ties that dangle from lapels and straps. Ferg straightens the top half, shimmying up and down as he holds his head high in the reflection. Narrowing his eyes, he shakes his head and makes a cutting motion at his throat. No photos please. Ferg does not fuck with this.
This stop at Y-3 is the second on a list of four on this afternoon trip. Earlier, we swung by Oak; later, we’ll spend time at Bape and Acne. It’s the first time in months that Ferg’s had time to do one of his favorite pastimes: shop. He’s just returned from a tour with the A$AP Mob through Australia and New Zealand, and he’s readying the release for his debut record, Trap Lord, out just over a month after this shopping date, and at the time, an album that was very far from finished.
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