If you know anything about fashion week, you’ll know that as much as there is going on inside the tents, the real action is on the street. And this is no less true for us sartorial loving men. Street-style is about the most organic kind of style there is and it all starts with the feet.
(I’m not about to apologize for the state of my bed, so save your judgement for people still wearing Fubu. I kid. Kind of.) My ankles were feeling particularly sad today so I thought why not put on obnoxiously yellow socks, roll up pants awkwardly high and let them bask in the glory that I’m sure they deserve. But I wasn’t the only ankle exposed fellow meandering about the streets: cuffed pants with bright colored and patterned socks were all over the streets of fashion week.
Plaid isn’t just for your chest anymore god damnit, your ankles deserve to be tartanized too. These checks were spotted outside a show at London fashion week and it was love at first cuff (or would have been had I taken this picture).
Bam. No longer is it enough to just have blue shoes. Men everywhere are stepping up their game with rainbow specked wool socks and men everywhere else are jealous. Again, spotted outside a show in London just last week (again, not by me).
Real men wear pick, especially on there feet. So, according to that logic, boy is this guy a real man. This authentic gentlemen was spotted outside a show in New York city, struttin’ his pink stuff. Tommy Ton is to thank for all these pictures, minus the
best first one of me. So, I hope when all the gentlelads put on your next pair of socks you’ll considered dousing them in an offensively bright color and remember: if you can’t see a hint of ankle bone, you’ve cuffed too little. G’night.
Something both extremely awesome and horrendously awkward happened on my flight home yesterday. First: the awesome part, cause awesome is awesome. Awesome. I’ve been known to have a little anxiety when flying. I tend grip things really tightly: the seat, my leg, the stranger’s leg next to me. So, when a three piece band walked onto my flight all wearing plaid and sat in the three surrounding seats, I knew that I was going to make it to Halifax unscathed and perhaps, with a potential new cuddle buddy, the flight was still young at this point (I left the flight haven’t not spoken to either member of the band. Sadness.). Now: the uncomfortably awkward part. If you fly during breakfast they give you a snack box that contains some sort of tiny pastry and a yogurt. I was really glad about this. I was starving, this was good. The lady next to me however was not as pleased. For some reason, I vigorously shook my yogurt and when opened it splattered all over the woman next to me – in every orifice, piece of clothing, even her carry-on underneath the seat. Although, much like myself and the trio of plaid wearing starcrossed lovers that surrounded me, the raspberry yogurt and I did not meet. Which I think went on to further aggravate the lady. I offered to help clean her off but judging by the look she gave me she was either attempting a voodoo ritual by staring directly into my soul or wanted me to fuck off. I assumed the latter and so I did. Anyhow, neither of those things has anything to do with what I wore today but I thought who doesn’t love a good tartan loving band and split yogurt tale. Speaking of what I wore today, here it is:
First sweater hails from the freshest of Joes and the striped fellow underneath is all American Apparel all the time. Pants are also American Apparel, khaki welt pant. Last and sockless, loafers are vintage from Elsie’s.
First of all, I’d like to send out a formal apology for the sporadic postings (or lack-there-of) over the last week. I’m deeply sorry folks. I’ve been re-watching episodes of Chelsea Lately as punishment. Now, on to more pressing matters like what I spent my vacation watching on television and how it inspired what I wore today. I’ve always had an awkwardly comforting relationship with TLC (both the pop trio singing sensation and television network) but this weekend it was taken above and beyond even say, the awkwardness of walking through an open automatic door right when it’s about to close, when I came across My 600lbs Life. I immediately felt a connection with the show, mostly because I’d eaten 3 minipizzas while watching it. Not only was there a very closely documented timeline of a girl’s (Ashley) well, 600 pound life, but the show came with a freakin hashtag. A no holds barred, larger than life, I wanna eat another minipizza and it be okay hashtag. #my600lbslife was strewed across the screen for the entirety of the show and at that moment I knew two things: I was still hungry, and this hashtag lovin show was all I needed to make it through the rest of the week.
Voila, today I wore the largest, well at least thickest sweater I own to pay homage to the show that made me want to eat everything and nothing all at the same time.
(I know it’s blurry, it’s for both your sake and mine.)
This is a white vintage Ralph Lauren fisherman style sweater I found at Model Citizen’s. There’s a denim shirt underneath there somewhere from Value Village. Jeans are H&M and my trusty boots are from everyday of my life.
PS Ashley went on to lose over 300 pounds. Congrats! (I went on to eat 2 more minipizzas)
Women aren’t the only ones that get to reap the sartorial rewards that fashion week has to offer. Despite not being as frequently ooo and ahh’d about, men’s wear makes a valiant appearance at New York Fall 2012 fashion week. Here’s a recap of my favorites:
Dolce and Gabbana‘s Fall 2012 show was nothing to shake a perfectly tailored cape at. With throw backs to a Victorian era: impeccable fit, touches of velvet, double breasted jackets and classic silhouettes were no stranger to the *manway.
Burberry Prorsum is almost synonymous with trench coat and Christopher Bailey stuck to his guns this season. If you’re a fan of depressed colors like me, than you’ll thoroughly enjoy what Bailey did for this fashion week. Structured masculine jackets are always a staple in any Burberry collection and this season was no different.
Black has always been and will probably always be the new black for Rick Owens. It’s because of his ability to make you look like you’re hiding more than your goodies in you crotch and it be okay that I love him. This fall he especially channeled the emo depressed alien and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. That’s all for now, folks.
* Manway – used in replacement of runway when walked by male models.