Style Story: Brown, Is The Color Of My Skin

I’ve spent the morning and early afteroon listening to Nina Simone. Her early days and her late days. After meditation and in the car from a meeting. Now while typing and watching the sky get gray and set for a drizzly late afternoon. This autumn brings browns of all shades with it, falling from the leaves and crunching under our toes. Much of it can be seen from the window of any Brooklyn apartment. And that’s one of the special things about Brooklyn in my opinion. The facasades always look a bit different depending on the neighborhood, but we all collectively feel the shift of fall and the smell of the same kind of rain.

These photos were shot in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, a neighborhood I don’t spend much time in these days, but did as a teenager. It’s a neighborhood that some of my family lives in, and one that many people have recently flocked to in their quest to make a piece of Brooklyn their own. In truth, I am not sure if that is possible in Crown Heights. I partly believe that Crown Heights belongs to those who moved there from the Caribbean, those seeking homes, work, and a place to rest and grow their families in safety. It is a space for many Jewish friends, and a place that often promises an array of economic levels, people and lifestyles. And so much of it, seems like it is slipping and not at all at once.

Brown is the color of my skin, and rarely a color I wear in full. And maybe I don’t need to. The point of it is, brown is so very obvious, wrapped in a sense of belonging and Brooklyn.

My vest is vintage, my flare pants are Kate Spade, my boots are from Club Monaco.

P.S The In-between

(Photography by Stella Blackmon for LaTonya Yvette. This post has affiliate links. If you choose to purchase something, I may earn a small comission. Thank you for your helping to keep this small space running.)