I’ve always been a writer, a reader (less so now that Tik Tok absorbs most of my reading time). After graduating from undergrad with a degree in English I landed an internship at Vanity Fair Magazine in 2012. I was living in a dream. Working in the fashion marketing department and learning the art of weaving talent and fashion into editorial story telling became my kryptonite. In hopes of landing a full-time position I extended my internship multiple times. Alas, after almost a year, my boss Michael Carl sat me down and told me along the lines of “get as far away from publishing as you can, there’s no future here.”
You didn’t need eyes to see the scars left behind from the 2008 market crash. Vogue was publishing real estate ads and editorial budgets had been severely slashed. I remember my boss had glued two quarters to the center of Times Square in hopes of seeing tourists - or if he was lucky Mini Mouse- trying to pick them up. This would “get him through the tough days.”
(not trying to bore you with a recollection of my career, but feel its relevant to share I wasn’t always in magazines) I moved to Chicago and started my career in advertising as a copywriter. Over the next decade I had the chance to work with brands like eBay, Dove, Delta, Whirlpool, and the Faena Hotel. Something felt like it was missing. While clients were happy to see the ROI of the campaigns I was creating, I rarely had the opportunity to incorporate marginalized voices.
I started moving towards purpose driven campaigns and tried tirelessly to incorporate artists and creatives who were the current cultural alchemists, but time after time I saw my ideas being diluted by mainstream casting.
It was 2019 and I was complaining to my boyfriend (as one does) about the situation. Tired of hearing the same thing, he dared me to live out my silenced dream of working with magazines. “Work can’t be your only creative outlet, start your own magazine!” Thus, LoHi Mag was born. Four issues later my boyfriend Moises Esquenazi, an interior designer and photographer, is now my husband. He’s shot every cover of the magazine to date. He serves as the magazine's Creative Director and, without a doubt, is the Hi energy of the mag. I’m the Lo.
The void: Miami went through so many growth spurts that it started to lose its sense of identity. Seemingly overnight, it became the land of $30 cocktails and people wearing 5 designer brands at once. As someone who was born and raised in Miami, I couldn’t watch my city’s narrative be hijacked by its vapid growth.
I saw a void in authentic storytelling around Miami and an opportunity to remind people that true luxury is found by finding balance between the Lo and the Hi (something The Standard brand does with its eyes closed). It’s the thrifted jean, Hanes T-Shirt, and designer shoe combo. It’s staying at a nice hotel, but ending up at local dive bars. It’s leaving your penthouse to befriend indigenous elders that live in the Everglades who teach you how to talk to plants.
Miami makes me the most extroverted and loud version of myself. It makes me a maximalist curator, editor, dancer, and neighbor. Miami inspires me to look towards the fringes of culture and society to find the most interesting narratives. For example, we once shot an editorial about the coolest old ladies that live next door (we all have that one neighbor.) So often feminine imagery around Miami is youth and bikini forward, but what about all the fly old ladies that live next door, fled from communism and socialism, and have the oddest and most comprehensive art collections? That’s LoHi, those are the stories we think are worth sharing.
The Standard Spa represents a safe space where hedonism and spirituality can coexist. It has a community where I actually want to be talking with the people sitting next to me by the pool. It’s a magnetic space that attracts people who live life on their own terms and that’s sort of how I roll. A community of my way or the highway sort of folks that can meet in downward dog and transition to margaritas in the blink of an eye.
My husband and I’s first date was at The Standard Spa. Our home is down the street and I’d be lying if I said living close by was a coincidence. We treat it like our backyard.
Last year we had the pleasure of collaborating with The Standard Spa on a site-specific installation in the lobby during Art Basel week. In honor of the brand's 25th anniversary we worked with local artists to create a miniature diorama celebrating the unique je ne sais quoi of The Standard Spa’s pool deck. We hosted a workshop where members made miniature clay versions of themselves and recreated the magic that keeps us all coming back to the pool deck. In a city that's constantly experiencing change, we feel lucky to have had the opportunity to commemorate a space that always feels like home.
My favorite time of day at The Standard Spa is 1 PM on a weekday. I’ll come work from the cafe on my laptop for a few hours, drink a latte, take the occasional call while roaming in the garden, and finish the day with a steam. I wish everyday could be like this.
If it’s not bold or authentic I don’t see the point in amplifying the narrative. As a queer person, I know what being misunderstood and dismissed can feel like. I have a great deal of empathy for fringe and underground culture. It’s such a deep and rich space that’s overlooked by most publications…and capitalism. I love finding golden nuggets in the rough and editorializing them. Like the time we shot Houston Otter Cypress, a two-spirited (queer) Miccosukee artist as Priscilla queen of the desert. He wanted to be transformed into Scintilla, queen of the swamp. It was a magical moment where we had the chance to align an artist's spirit with fantasy.
Can’t forget the time collaborating with artist Robert Andy Coombs, a queer quadriplegic photographer exploring the intersections of disability and sexuality. He wanted people to know that people in wheelchairs are horny too! Robert collaborated with wedgie artist Benjamin Fredrickson and was photographed *NSFW* getting a wedgie out of his wheelchair. It was major.
We later did a nude photobooth with Robert during Art Basel. BOLD AND AUTHENTIC BABY.
This year, pride means not taking the rights and freedoms the queer community has for granted. For the last issue of LoHi I interviewed dozens of members from the South Beach underground scene of the 90s, which we collaborated with The Standard Spa, Miami Beach, to share their stories. Many of them shared accounts of a different Miami full of discrimination where safe spaces were instrumental for survival. Queer kids from conservative West Miami flocked to South Beach where they could express themselves. I fear the pendulum could swing in a dangerous direction right under our noses if we don't protect our rights.
Last year, R Bar, a local drag bar owned by our friends in Wynwood came under scrutiny from Florida officials after a video showed children involved in a drag performance. Governor Ron DeSantis signed a bill aimed at blocking venues from admitting kids to “adult live performances," critics were calling it an anti-drag bill. Local drag queen Athena Dion spoke out against Desantis and helped gain attention from national news sources. The bill was eventually deemed as unconstitutional.
We wanted to celebrate Athena and the other drag queens that raised awareness around the bill. When I reached out to her to organize a Last Supper themed editorial, she challenged me and said drag queens and queer people weren’t the only minorities whose rights were at stake in Florida. She told me she was happy to participate but that she wanted to include other marginalized voices. I was shocked, humbled, and proud to go back to the drawing board. The final product included indigenous voices, marine biologists, historians, couture python hunters and artists.
I think queer storytelling can be so cliche and geared towards white audiences. In Miami, queer voices are more diverse and international. It’s Cuban, Haitian, Colombian, and Venezuelan diaspora. We think giving a platform to the less mainstream queer voices.
- Lee Pivnik- a Miami based artist who started the Institute for Queer Ecology AND just got a grant from Cultural Capital to build a greenhouse inside his apartment in Miami Beach that organically cleans and recycles water. It’s insane, we’re collaborating with him to capture the process.
- @ly.as - not confirmed he’s queer, but whenever I see him take the iPhone 4 to fashion shows and ask designers, models, and celebs to take selfies I’m like yes, weurq, LoHi baby
- Jeffrey Cheung - queer artist/skater out of San Francisco. Been dreaming of owning one of his pieces for years.
