Chelsea Leyland

DJ. New York

By: Emily Ramshaw
Styling: Emily Ramshaw
Photography: Jake Rosenberg

In case you haven't noticed from your last decade or so of existing, people have the tendency to throw around the whole It-girl thing—as in, “she’s totally London’s next It-girl" or using it preceded by the name of a new-on-the-scene model-slash-designer-slash-philanthropist. Here at The Cov, we try to stay away from the title (it’s on our list of banned phrases, right up there with “fashionista” and “girl crush,” because, well, yuck), if only because it seems a little limiting and a whole lot cliché. That said, do you feel the BUT coming, because here it is: when we walked into Chelsea Leyland’s Williamsburg apartment we kind of felt the It-girl fairy dust in a major way, so to speak—right down to the fluffy cat, a gold chain-covered jewelry tree and requisite burning fancy candles.

But let’s back up a little, because before we even knocked on her door, we could hear the music, and when Leyland answered, barefoot and wearing a lacy vintage bralette and a floral printed skirt (doing the whole bra as a top thing isn’t just for Rihanna, you guys), we were quick to notice her fully legit turntable setup. With her sleepy kitty Louie in tow, Chelsea led us straight to the goods, and by that we mean her double-sized walk-in closet, impeccably organized by garment type and color (acres of eyelet vintage dresses, at least a dozen leather moto jackets including a 10-pound, studded Burberry version, piles of well-worn band tees and shelves of shoes in every variety, from lug sole combat boots to spike=y Jimmy Choos).

But we seriously have to applaud Leyland for making us think twice about our It-girl impressions. Forget ‘It,’ Leyland’s the kind of person you just want to hang out with—something like that girl in high school with the older boyfriend who listens to ‘70s punk (on actual vinyl) and skipped prom to go on a cross-country road trip. You just want to be her bestie, you know? Which is pretty much what it felt like to sort through her closet and listen to music (Youtube Flume and Nicolas Jaar, ASAP) and talk through the finer points of applying the perfect red lip. And we mean, she kind of lived every girls Marianne Faithful-tinged dream when she donned a Shrimps faux fur coat (if this is the first time you’re hearing about this label, get Googling now, ‘cause if faux fur has the ability to blow your mind, this is it) over Fleur du Mal lingerie, paired with Docs and House of Holland red lip-framed sunnies.