On a recent afternoon, Evan Mock tried to do laundry in his East Village apartment, but something was wrong with the dryer. Disturbed beeps cut through the retro-soul music playing in the airy third-floor walk-up. The machine kept starting and stopping. He mentioned a theory, something about excessive lint build-up and a faulty filter.

Sir. Mock, 25, is probably best known for his role as the pink-faced, Park Avenue-raised, Tarkovsky-loving bisexual son of a right-wing media mogul on the HBO Max reboot of “Gossip Girl,” which returns for its second season in Dec. 1. But the townspeople have a lot of other things going on.

A king of the “collaboration”, he has worked with brands including Danish jewelery maker Pandora and Italian footwear designer Giuseppe Zanotti. He has modeled for designers including Paco Rabanne and Virgil Abloh. His skateboarding skills have earned him a major sponsorship from Hurley and an elusive spot on the Instagram grid Frank Ocean. A few months ago, he started a fashion line, Wahine, with stylist Donté McGuine.

He is a bona fide multi-binder, a party circuit, an IT boy, a man about town. He also has frosted tips now.

Despite the hyper resume, Mr. Mock is reclined. Peaceful. As light poured into his apartment, he leaned back by a floor-to-ceiling corner window. “Sometimes it’s too much,” he said, referring to the intense sunlight. “But I’m not complaining.”

He took a sip of coconut water from a Tetra Pak. His feet were up. They were dressed in last month’s limited-release North Face x Paraboot shoes, the ones with vulcanized rubber outsoles, matte lace full-grain leather uppers and an elastic collar — a mule so exclusive it wasn’t even available for purchase. Like the streetwear website Hypebeast reported: “Simply put, you can’t buy this.”

When I was growing up, Mr. Mock often walked around barefoot. Born and raised on the North Shore of Oahu, his father put him on his first surfboard when he was 2 years old. “I caught my first wave before I could swim,” he said.

He was homeschooled in his teenage years to cope with rush hour. Around the age of 11, he also started skateboarding. (“Pretty late,” he said.) By 16, he was earning more than $15,000 a month from skateboarding sponsorships. He then moved to California to pursue what he called his “skateboard dreams.” (He made air quotes around the words “skateboard dreams.”)

Hints of his modeling career were scattered throughout the neat two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment. On his kitchen table sat a Louis Vuitton purse—a brand he walked the runway for in 2019. In the corner of the living room was an overstuffed Rimowa suitcase—the luxury German luggage maker he wrote, co-produced and produced for. starred in an online commercial last year. It shows Mr. Hånt skateboarding through Manhattan wearing a Rimowa cross-body messenger bag while recounting in voice-over a whirlwind romance with a girl he met outside a club in Barcelona. Struck by her beauty, he talks about impulsively buying her a ticket to follow him to Paris. But a lost passport, a brief stint in the airport jail and a six-hour flight delay put an end to the spree.

Across the room, by a stack of shoe boxes, what at first looked like a regular McDonald’s Happy Meal box, upon closer inspection was a box of Cactus Plant Flea Market x McDonald’s collectibles from the streetwear brand’s limited-run release. The figures (originally sold for around $10) were reportedly listed on eBay for over $25,000, although prices have since dropped significantly.

Sir. Mock got up to clean his lint trap. “Let’s just get on some bikes,” he said.

He puts many kilometers on his VanMoof e-bike. The day before, he drove uptown for a “Gossip Girl” ADR (automated dialogue replacement) session, then back to the Lower East Side to check out a Japanese whiskey bar he could invest in on Chrystie Street.

“We could go to Curbs,” Mr. Mock said, referring to a section of Lafayette Street that has become popular with New York skateboarders because of the many curbs its triangular layout provides.

He began to get changed, changing his white T-shirt into a vintage dark gray Number Nine T-shirt. Above the breast pocket it had a small graphic of a speech bubble containing the word “cigarettes”. “It’s a Japanese brand that was worst back then,” said Mr. Mock said of number nine. “Everybody in Japan knows what’s going on.”

He put on and then took off a hoodie of his own design, a boxy Wahine zip. On the cover, the outline of a valentine heart surrounding a word that cannot be printed in The New York Times. “I drew it on my friend’s bathroom wall and then I took a picture of it,” he said of the design’s origins.

He completed the outfit with a pair of dark wash Palace jeans, Nike Air Adjust Force sneakers in the Ambush edition, a silver bomber jacket, a Palace hat and Isabel Marant sunglasses. Outside, he was gliding through Alphabet City on his next-generation smart-tech bike. As the landscape washed by, he kept one hand in the pocket of the opened bomber.

Near the REI store, he swerved lightly across Houston Street to kiss photographer Gray Sorrenti, who happened to be passing by with model-actress Blue Lindeberg. The chance encounter took place right across from the 55-by-75-foot Calvin Klein billboard where, a year ago, Mr. Mock had appeared smiling down at NoHo in nothing but black boxer briefs and thigh tattoos.

Next stop was Madhufalla, a juice and smoothie bar on Mulberry Street. Sir. Mock ordered his usual: a ginger shot and a wheatgrass shot. “Sweeter than you’d think,” he said. He downed both at the store and ordered an açai berry almond milk smoothie.

Around the corner, at Curbs, he punched a few acquaintances before sitting down on a bench. Between sips of the smoothie, he talked about “Gossip Girl.” The original CW series, which ran from 2007 to 2012, was, he said, “before my time.” And when the showrunner of the HBO Max reboot, Joshua Safran, reached out to him about playing the role of Aki Menzies, Mr. Mock had never acted.

“There were a lot of different firsts,” he said. “When I first read the script, I thought there was nothing more opposite than my actual life. In terms of living in a cold place, going to private school, all the drama.”

He paused. Then I picked up again: “It’s funny, because I never actually went to school. But the character is basically me—besides being filthy rich, going to a private school, and living uptown in New York.”

On his first day of filming, he had to participate in a sex scene with Emily Alyn Lind, the actress who plays his girlfriend. The inherently awkward situation had the added discomfort of taking place in September 2020. Between takes, cast members wore K95 masks and plastic face coverings. During their downtime, the actors had to isolate themselves in a room until they were called back to the stage. “But to be honest, I’m kind of glad it happened that way because we got the weird stuff out of the way,” said Mr. Mock said. “Hopefully everything from here on out will be a little bit quote-unquote normal.”

He saw a skateboarder drying off in front of Jack’s Wife Freda bistro. Ms. Lindeberg, the actress and model, passed by again. This is something Mr. Mock loves about New York: “You basically have no choice but to see the homies everywhere you go,” he said. As if on cue, another friend, actor Nico Hiraga, rode up on a skateboard, shortly followed by another skateboarding friend, George Hemp.

“We could go play pool,” Mr. Mock suggested.

Soon Mr. Hiraga and Mr. Hemp got Citi Bikes and the group headed north. All three cycled almost exclusively one-handed. The trip was characterized by several inflows. At St. Marks Place, Mr. Mock pulled over to hug her brand deal agent, Jenelle Phillip, who was dining alfresco at Cafe Mogador. On East 10th Street, on the edge of Tompkins Square Park, he stopped to chat with skateboarding documentarian Greg Hunt, who was out with his camera trying to take advantage of the good light. Sir. Mock said he had seen other familiar faces on the 12-block walk, but he couldn’t stop for everyone.

It was early evening when he and his friends reached the Ace Bar on East Fifth Street. “Meet the Fockers” played on the TV screen above the Skee-Ball machine.

“I love this movie,” Mr. Hiraga said smiling. “I’m in my saga era.”

A few meters from the pool table, a man stood contraposto with beer in one hand, the other, steeply on his hip. Sir. Mock said he tends to stand the same way, in a sort of half-akimbo position. Skateboarders have a certain way of holding themselves – Mr. Mock offered the word “feminine” to describe it, but then agreed that it’s more about fluidity or a specific grace that comes from being in constant negotiation with gravity.

He added that he has broken each arm three times. In a spill, he broke four fingers. What happens, he explained, is that you learn to fall.

“If you see skaters falling, it looks like Bruce Lee fighting the water,” said Mr. Mock said. “When you fall in the same certain way, you get reflexes after a while. You can save yourself most of the time, but sometimes you can’t.”

Is breaking bones scary?

“It just goes with it,” he said. “You expect it.”

He returned to the pool table and adjusted his Palace jeans, which were more or less held up by a leather belt he said he got from “some random guy in Rome.”

Related Posts