I want to buy this pair of Panama black 24K sunglasses from SUPER by RETROSUPERFUTURE® and start yelling "2 CHAINZ!" at the top of my lungs, every time I enter a room. With the Euro and the USD seemingly headed for parity, now is a pretty good time to cop imports from the Continent. And what better import to buy than handmade Milanese eyewear? I don't know if there is one. For a long time, the only sunglasses I wore were aviators, which is completely fine if you're Brad Pitt, but less fine if you're not Brad Pitt. I don't check that often, but I'm reasonably certain that I am not (and probably haven't ever been) Brad Pitt, so I ought to branch out into other silhouettes. I imagine the process will go something like this:
Step 1: Get a new pair of sunglasses.
Step 2: Finally get on Snapchat and amass a loyal following.
Step 3: Popularize a random emoji with posts like "Keep on swimming, fam. Major 🐡" -RB
I strongly recommend these Draught Dry Goods x New England Outerwear boots to anyone with a high tolerance for people complimenting their footwear, because, if you cop a pair, you'll be hearing "Hey, nice shoes" more than your own name or the phrase "I want to punch Ted Cruz right in his Canadian face". These boots are a veritable Frankenstein's monster of perfectly chosen elements: the chunky Vibram soles, the upturned moc toe, the Horween Chromexcel leathers on the upper -- everything good at once. They were hand-stitched and constructed at the New England Outerwear factory in Massachusetts. The lead time for delivery is 3-4 weeks, because delayed gratification is the secret sauce of success. Yes, a single pair costs 450 USD, but what's happiness worth anyway? We should all buy them and start a blog about how they positively impact our lives. We'll inevitably stop updating it after a couple of weeks, but maybe we can keep the related IG account poppin' for years to with mastubatory #ootd posts.
What if I told you there was a sick varsity jacket, inspired by legendary rappers and sock salesmen the Wu Tang Clan, that you could buy and wear on your body for a mere 695 USD? Well, there is. It's called Shaolin Chessboxing - "The Mystery" and it was the first jacket Jonathan Goldberg designed for his hip-hop-infused label The Essence. There are a ton of varsity jackets on the market, but precious few of them have any backstory beyond the Vietnamese warehouse they were manufactured in, let alone a backstory involving a fictional high school attended by every member of the Wu. You know this thing is going to be a legit conversation starter and will almost certainly result in the occasional invitation to go smoke a blunt in some random stranger's Scion. It's up to you whether that is a good thing or not. I think the only real problem with this varsity is that there's at least a 50-50 chance RZA will buy all of them and sell them to Martin Shkreli.
All praise is due to Salty Sow Austin* for putting me on to the gustatory greatness of the Grand Poppy aperitive from LA's own Greenbar Craft Distillery. Greenbar is the first distillery in Los Angeles since Prohibition and they produce a variety of organic spirits for you to drink and/or pontificate about. As the name implies, Grand Poppy aperitive is derived from the California poppy (that's Eschscholzia californica to all you taxonomy nerds), which happens to be the Golden State's official flower. But despite the fact that it's manufactured less than six miles from my apartment, I first encountered this charming liqueur in the Lonestar State, standing in for Campari, in a delicious negroni variation (dubbed the Pigroni, because puns). So impressed was I by this cocktail that, upon my return to the City of Angels, I promptly bought a bottle of Grand Poppy and, after some rigorous experimentation at home, am pleased to report that it is a more than worthy understudy for your traditional Italian aperitivo of choice. In addition to an incredible depth of flavor, Grand Poppy has unparalleled environmental cred, given that Greenbar uses lightweight bottles, 100% recycled labels, and even goes as far as planting a tree for every bottle sold. If all that wasn't enough to convince you, then I just dare you to try it. I double doggy dare you, dear reader. I googolplex dare you. I infinity dare you.
*Salty Sow is the absolute fucking shit, bruh. Don't sleep on this.
This is the No. 165 medium carryall from Billykirk (available in oxblood, olive, and a bunch of other colorways) and it's goddamn gorgeous. Made in the USA, out of US-sourced leather, this lovely bag will look equally exceptional hanging daintily from your shoulder while you stroll down the street as it will gripped tenaciously between your calf muscles while you make a desperate attempt to box out your fellow dead-eyed commuters on the subway at rush hour. I know this will come as no surprise, but I think you should buy yourself a really nice bag. A bag that will age with you; one that's built to last out of sturdy materials; one with timeless style that won't go all square-toed dress shoe on you. Now, I'm even more convinced: you need to buy this bag. Do it. Do it because you're worth it.
Pardon the weak sauce pun, but copping the above bottle of "muscle tonic" from acclaimed fashion designer Frank Leder seems like the ultimate flex to me. This stuff is expensive, obscure, and wholly unnecessary, only making it more desirable. You could rock an Icy Hot patch on your sore spots or you could rub them down with a limited run muscle tonic made according to generations-old Austrian recipes. At the end of the day, the decision is up to you. I can't tell you why you'd buy a 40 USD bottle of muscle tonic from a German fashion designer, instead of buying a half-dozen tubes of Biofreeze on Amazon. Maybe you'd do it because you love traditionally-made, small-batch, artisanal products. Maybe you'd do it because your corporeal form itself has rarified taste and only the finest elixirs will suffice for your ablutions. Or maybe you'd just do it because you have to keep up with the IG Joneses and Bengay is for fucking plebs.
These Parveen hand forged 'barber' scissors beat the shit out of the blunted safety scissors we used to have for making collages, back in the first grade. The handles are sand-cast brass and the blades are hand-ground. I would go into greater deal about those specifications if I wasn't so caught up thinking about how much of my life has been spent making collages. What are you supposed to learn from cutting up a bunch of leftover magazines? What lesson does that teach? All I ever got from making collages were papercuts and a lifetime appreciation of scented markers. Looking back, it seems pretty obvious that at least 50% of school is a desperate attempt to distract little kids from the fact that they're being warehoused against their will. "Don't think about the valuable daylight hours you're wasting in this desk-filled prison, Timmy. Just keep slicing up that back issue of Marie Claire". Anyway, if you do get these wonderful scissors, please find a better use for them than making collages. But out of curiosity, what was your favorite flavor of Mr. Sketch? Mine was dark green.
It's 2016, there's a new Future mixtape, and I want you to buy this Wood n' Steel x Berkeley Supply Hackberry hatchet. Don't front like you don't want/need a hatchet in your apartment. There are only five of these Hackberry hatchets in existence, making them "extremely limited" edition. This little log-splitter features a bottle opener and a 90° spine that can be used to scrape a flint or fire steel in the event that your Nest loses its connection with the wi-fi. You could also use this hatchet for actual hatchet stuff, including, but not limited to, chopping kindling and repelling violent bear assaults. Will Leo finally get that statue this year? Will you finally buy a hatchet this year? I don't know. I'm not a mindreader; I don't have a crystal ball. But I'm quite certain that if I bought this hatchet, it would be used exclusively for captionless IG shots of me, wearing flannel and staring into the distance.
Let me start by saying I'm sorry. I'm so stricken by grief right now that I can barely type. Four Pins -- the single greatest source of fashion journalism the internet has ever known -- is no more. Real talk: there's no chance I'd be writing this blog right now if it wasn't for the Pins. I started reading the site while I was working a particularly miserable day job, escaping from my boredom into a world of dope garms and dank jawnery. Since then, tha gawds Skylar, L.A.S, and Moy have become part of my daily life and I'm legit depressed that I will no longer wake up to a bunch of witty musings about extremely expensive cardigans or the trials and tribs of emulating Yeezy. I'd keep going, but my keyboard is soaked with tears and I need to curl up in a fetal position under my desk. So goodbye, gentlemen. Thanks for all the fire fits, fam. Four Pins is dead, long live @Four_Pins.
Impress all the war hawks around the water cooler with this Carter military shirt (available at Armitage & McMillan) from Krammer & Stoudt. It's made from 100% cotton, features dual front chest pockets, and is the perfect way to declare your undying loyalty to the military industrial complex. I don't think it would be at all hyperbolic to say that if you don't buy this shirt, you definitely hate America. Maybe you'd like to ponder your lack of patriotism while undergoing a little re-education down in Dulce Base, at the hands of extraterrestrial reptilian humanoids. Oh, don't kid yourself, dear reader: reptilian aliens are the true ruling caste of this planet. Every single geopolitical event in your so-called "history" books is a piece of carefully planned pageantry, orchestrated by the New World Order, the Thule Society, and the Draco-Orion Empire. Two pieces of advice: watch out for black helicopters and never trust a motherfucking reptiloid.
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