They say the devil is in the details and I'm inclined to agree, provided that the devil we're discussing is the reason to buy a 188 USD denim shirt from Deluxe. This garment is all elegant curves: the western yoke, the rounded hem, the club collar. Its simplicity belies the sheer amount of work it takes to produce a piece like this. People worked hard on this shirt and if you want to wear it, you have to pay them a fair amount of money for the privilege. Something to ponder while you read this Quartz article about how a bunch of our mass-produced clothing is made not by factory workers, but by "homeworkers", which basically means poor women (and sometimes children) paid virtually nothing to labor in their own homes. I hate to be the bearer of bad and extremely obvious news, but cheap clothing is cheap for a reason.
Thanks to my denim bias, pants get short shrift on this blog. It's a failing, I know (just one of many). But how fly are these corduroys? They're from Norse Projects, so the correct answer is "real fly". As any frequent reader of this blog knows, the Scandinavian brand is beyond reproach and, as every kid in grammar school knows, corduroys are dope. Corduroys are comfortable and versatile, well-suited to business casual office environments and sawdust-strewn cafeterias alike. You should wear corduroys when you want to signal to the world that you are an adult human being capable of putting on non-jean trousers. Dress yourself in the costume of maturity one pant leg at a time.
Tell me if this sounds good: a one-of a kind piece, made in Hyogo, Japan, out of a wool/cotton blend, woven on vintage looms in the Banshu-ori style, in which each thread is pre-dyed (the saki-zome technique). Hope that sounds good, because that's the origin story of these Tamaki Niime scarves (available at Blue Button Shop in blue, red, and green) and I will take it personally if you don't love them. Thanks to the labor- and skill-intensive process used to produce them, every single one these scarves is unique and, commensurate with that level of awesomeness, costs a cool 229 USD. Now, I don't wear scarves very often, for fear of looking like Johnny Depp's hat rack, but I would rock one of these Tamaki Niime joints without hesitation. My only fear would be forgetting the fucking thing in the back of a Lyft after listening to a little too much Wiz Khalifa, if you know what I mean.
North Sea Clothing constructs this Diver rollneck jumper to the same specs as WWII British Navy submariner sweaters, making it indispensable for anyone who spends more than fifty percent of his time in an undersea watercraft. It's made from a heavy ass knit and features intensely ribbed cuffs and waist. Also, turtlenecks and their derivatives are back in style as evidenced by all the fashion writers telling me that turtlenecks and their derivatives are back in style (just Google "return of the turtleneck"). Buy this sweater to signal to your peers that you are a modern sophisticate with fashion-savvy and disposable income to match. Or to serve in its more traditional role of hiding patches of broken capillaries on the necks of frequent hickey recipients.
Images via BlackBlue
Yes, yes, a thousand times yes to this Raschel jacket from Arpenteur. I'm always looking for garments that were seemingly designed to be worn while toiling in some sort of fashion-forward forced labor camp from the future. I'd rock this with a non-descript knit cap and gaze forlornly past the endless fences and their concertina wire coiffure, dreaming of freedom and a life beyond the camp. Between bouts of brutal beatings and daily broadcasts from the minister of propaganda, I'd pilfer some fertilizer and sneak off to cultivate my secret garden of dandelions, the symbol of our fledgling resistance group, "The Tooth of the Lion". Over time, the news would spread among the prisoners. Knowing nods, well-timed winks, weighty words whispered over bowls of maggoty greul. A revolution is coming. Crouching over my bed of contraband Taraxacum, I'd realize that something else was growing in the camp, something even more improbable than a flower garden: Hope -RB
I like this color block Engineered Garments Bedford jacket because it makes you look like how I imagine turn of the century hobos look. Given that the internet exists (in fact, I'm using it right now), I could easily check the veracity of that statement, but I won't, due to the potent blend of arrogance and apathy that governs most of my actions. I want to buy this jacket and start traveling exclusively by boxcar. I'd carry a bindle, use words like 'ambuscade', and generally emit an aura of downtroddenness. Maybe I'd even get lucky and become one of the victims of the Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run. I'm sorry to keep bringing up serial homicide, but it's been a strange week and I've been listening to too much Last Podcast on the Left.
Needles calls this joint a "cardigan coat", so it's obviously awesome. Cardigans and coats are both Things That Are Good™, making this a Thing That Is Good™ by the reflexive property of equality or something like that. What do you want from me? I'm not a mathematician. I'm just a guy advising you to buy a 483 USD coat because it reminds me of one of my favorite styles of sweater. Also, I find thigh-length coats to be quite flattering on me. It's kind of sad that all my fashion recommendations seem to emerge from a form of methodological solipsism. Or at least some sort of deep-seated narcissism, which seems more likely now that I think about it. If you guys bought something I wrote about on this blog, you'd tell me, right? Oh, no. Now I'm insecure and paranoid. Is anyone even listening? Am I just yelling into the void? Is this thing on?
Bad news first: according to the internet, that price-gouging AIDS drug guy bought the million dollar Wu Tang album, so all us bustas are straight up assed out. Now for the good news: this SASQUATCHfabrix Jinbei shirt exists and MAAS & Stacks sells it. Complicating factor: it costs 295 USD, so you will have to sell a helluva lot of lemonade to afford it, if you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I MEAN. I might even mean actually selling lemonade. Just make sure to obtain the proper peddler's permits from your municipality before setting up a stand or risk a police shut-down of your illicit business. Nothing ruins a fundraiser faster than a midday confrontation with the one time.
Life is a series of decisions. Sometimes, we come to forks in the proverbial road, like that Robert Frost poem about hiking. It's at those times that we most need a guide, an existential sherpa if you will, to help us in the process of life-orienteering. Right now, I am that sherpa. Ponder this query: would you prefer to own the above Kånken bag (available from Oi Polloi in leaf green/burnt orange and air blue) from Swedish brand Fjällräven or some similarly priced artwork from infamous American serial killer John Wayne Gacy? If you answered "Probably the backpack", then you might like to know that the Kånken was originally designed for Swedish school children in 1978. I happen to have one myself and can vouch for its greatness. If you answered "Gacy, natch", then please run-don't-walk to the nearest mental health institution or police station. This, dear reader, is exactly why we all need a sherpa.
P.S. Do not buy anything produced by a serial killer. It's not a good look. Just consider it a self-imposed 'Son of Sam' law.
P.P.S. Click "Read More" to view a slideshow of some of Gacy's work, including Elvis and sad Hitler. Just know that if you do click through, you are, in all likelihood, a sick weirdo.
If your list of life goals includes looking like you're French, then you ought to buy this "borderz" t-shirt from Unrivaled. Yes, Unrivaled is Japanese, but I never let facts get in the way of a good ole free association. Looking back, I realize that I probably don't give long sleeve t-shirts enough love on this blog, but they are clutch garments and I do appreciate them. Pair this one with some chinos and a Team Zissou beanie. Maybe buy a boat to complete the overall look. Or, if you're on a budget, buy a picture of a boat and tell everyone you own it. Then when they ask you to take them out on it, you just say "Sometime, sure" and never mention it again. There's very little that could go wrong with this plan.
Sites We Dig