
Ian Connor with Virgil Abloh in Paris, early 2010s — a moment that captured the crossover between underground streetwear and emerging high fashion. This was more than just a link-up; it was a cultural shift in real time.
The Tumblr Era: Ian Connor’s Origin Story
Before the runways and revenge sneakers, Ian Connor was a Tumblr kid. Not just scrolling curating a vibe. Bleached hoodies, tight pants, dirty Vans, and a devil-may-care look that felt like punk met hip-hop in a thrift store. His page wasn’t just about flexing fits; it was a moodboard for a generation.
By 2012–2014, Ian had become the internet’s underground style god. He wasn’t rich, but he had taste, and that hit harder than money. His selfies looked like editorial spreads. He mixed designer with thrift. Supreme hoodies and HBA tees, layered over jeans tighter than what any rapper had rocked before.
What Ian did was blur the line between skater, punk, and rapper — and it shook the whole aesthetic of hip-hop. Artists like A$AP Rocky and Kanye started to notice, then adopt. It was the beginning of the Tumblr-to-stardom pipeline. Ian wasn’t just posting fits — he was building a new visual language.


Styling the Culture
By the mid-2010s, Ian Connor went from internet moodboard to real-world tastemaker. Rappers who once scrolled his Tumblr were now asking him to style them. He wasn’t just inspiring from afar — he was in the room, choosing the fits, setting the tone.
His closest collaborations came through A$AP Mob, especially Rocky. Ian brought a raw, grunge feel to Rocky’s already polished look — think Raf Simons, Rick Owens, and vintage Polo mixed with ripped jeans and Vans. He wasn’t just styling clothes — he was styling rebellion.
Then came Kanye. Ian became one of the young faces behind YEEZY Season 1, walking in the shows and helping craft the dystopian, military-meets-minimalism vibe. This wasn’t a coincidence — it was a recognition of the vision he’d been shaping for years online.
And of course, Playboi Carti. Their synergy was unmatched — both chaotic, both stylish in that “IDGAF” way. Ian helped Carti refine his image into the vamp rockstar we know now. From oversized Margiela fits to beat-up designer shoes, that whole look had Ian’s fingerprints all over it.



Revenge x Storm
In 2016, Ian Connor dropped Revenge x Storm, a sneaker that looked like a rebellious cousin of the classic Vans Old Skool — but with a lightning bolt slash that screamed DIY punk energy. It wasn’t just a shoe — it was a statement. A middle finger to fashion gatekeeping. And the culture ate it up.
The rollout was raw. No fancy campaigns. Just Ian, his Tumblr, some grainy mirror selfies, and a handful of influencers and rappers laced in them before the streets could even touch a pair. The bolt became iconic — not because it was polished, but because it wasn’t.
Revenge x Storm blew up, worn by Playboi Carti, Lil Uzi Vert, Kylie Jenner, and even Travis Scott. The shoes were a hit on resale sites, showing up in fan edits, Tumblr moodboards, and streetwear threads across Reddit. And the message was clear: Ian didn’t just style the culture anymore — he was selling it.
It wasn’t about the perfect silhouette or top-tier materials — it was about aesthetic and attitude. And that bolt? It became the new Swoosh for the anti-mainstream.


Ian Connor’s name might not be on billboards, but his aesthetic is everywhere. From the pink dreadlocked chaos of early Playboi Carti to the gothic, genderless silhouettes of Destroy Lonely and Ken Carson — the DNA is traceable. The “IDGAF but it’s art” energy, the distressed designer, the mix of rage and fashion — that’s Ian.
He birthed a new wave of “fashion-first rappers” — artists who don’t just dress well, they live their aesthetic. In a time when clout is currency, Ian was ahead of the curve, building cult appeal before Instagram algorithms dictated cool. He created a world where fashion wasn’t separate from hip-hop — it was hip-hop.
Even after the controversies, the culture didn’t fully turn its back. His influence is still debated, dissected, and duplicated. That says something. Ian’s legacy lives in the kids walking the runway in ski masks, posting blurry fit pics, and thrifting Rick with $0 in the bank — because the look matters more than the label.
This isn’t about forgiving. It’s about documenting. And in the timeline of hip-hop style, Ian Connor’s impact is undeniable.