Letting go has never been my strong suit. One might even say I hoard. Books, movie stubs, the glasses I wore in the fifth grade. But by far the possessions I have most difficulty parting with are clothes. As if bound to me by some inexplicable force, likely similar to the one bounding Taylor Swift to prepubescent men, my clothes are in it for the long haul. A quick scan of my plaid shirts or wool sweaters will get you well above two, maybe three dozen (Humblebrag?). It’s an obsession that makes for an expensive overweight charge but one hell of a Seven Days of Wool.
Alas, with the
end of the world new year approaching, I’m trying to conquer the age ol’ conundrum of the new years resolution; mine being ‘relinquish control’. Enter the bobblehead version of myself above. I thought, instead of posting a superbly taken photo of myself in just one outfit, I’ll post four and have them rotate around my static head. What I’m trying to say is, I’m using this post as a tester for my new years resie – I’m giving you (yes, you) the choice of what I wear. If you see something you like, stop, admire, weep if you should feel so inclined. If not, continue on. The choice is yours. Not mine, yours.
Vintage leather jacket / Vintage Hawaiian s/l buttondown / H&M tank / Thrifted plaid / Vintage camouflage buttondown / Vintage s/l military buttondown / Fruit of the Loom white t / Topman denim
With respect to one’s persona, it might be said that each one of us is a particular shade of a very eclectic color wheel. Some can stand alone as a self-righteous, opaque royal blue; while others linger in the background, a neutral, ‘Sorry, I’m not good with crowds’ beige. Some reek of a brown, relaxed, levelheadedness and others practically drown you as a bubbly, ‘Omg! Like, no.’ fuchsia.
‘I’m definitely burgundy.’ ‘Really? I pegged you as more of a sea foam green.’ More often than not, the colors we think we are don’t always align with the choices of those close to us. Like me, in my head I’m most definitely a bright, lively orange. A hilariously funny, vibrant, soaked-to-the-bone with vigor shade of orange; underlined with a slight hue of red meant to represent my obvious passion for life and all its pleasantries.
But those who know me well would probably say I’m more likely to top my rigatoni with Ragu instead of trying the new Italian place; they’d recall my use of some variant of the same toothpaste since before there was internet, my excitement for the week as spending the day in the chair rather than the couch and my witty rebuttals as often coming 7 minutes to late.
Truth be told, I’m less of an adventurous, grab-the-day-by-it’s-motherf%&#ing-throat orange and more of a laid-back, dry-humored, ‘I can’t do Thursday, there’s a new episode of Homeland’ yellow; I’m a mellow yellow. And those who know and love me don’t feel as such because I’m an overzealous, energetic shade of orange, they feel that way because I’m a mellow yellow that thinks I am.
Vintage leather jacket / Vintage yellow t / American Apparel sweater / American Apparel slacks
Photo courtesy of Tommy Ton for GQ
As of late, I’ve developed an if-you’ve-seen-one-you’ve-seen-em-all attitude toward the mens street style photos dominating the web. The rate at which I click next seems to increase in accordance to the frequency of graphic ties, navy blazers, and structured pea coats.
This guy has none of those things so I was pleasantly surprised when I stumbled across him whilst perusing the latest Tommy Ton for GQ. His wide-brim green fedora, reminiscent of this lad from Rag and Bone, really spoke to me. It mostly said “Look at me, sitting on the head of this man with perfectly trimmed facial hair.” and I listened. Personally, my experience with fedoras stretch only as far as straw. I’ve yet to delve into, what appears to be, felt as this guy has done so effortlessly.
Moving downward, we run into a pair of pleasingly vibrant tortoise shell specs, not unlike these via Oliver Peoples. I recently invested in a pair of tortoise shell keyholes myself. I use the term ‘invested’ loosely as they cost 15 dollars courtesy of the Clearly Contacts offer currently circulating Facebook, but nevertheless they’re a great poor person’s substitution for the aforementioned Oliver Peoples and they’re legit, prescription and all. My man-friend, however, has the real deal and they’re snazzy. I also happen to have this photo of me lying on the ground wearing said glasses, so, there’s that. And as if sprawling across my bedroom floor wasn’t dramatic enough, I thought, put the thing in black and white, that ought to really drive home the circa MySpace 2006 sentiment.
Now for what is undeniably my favorite part of this man’s ensemble: the presence of denim as a mayering tool. It’s no secret to anyone that’s read Man Up even once, I hold denim in high esteem. If conceivable, now higher as a direct result of this, albeit stranger but no less kindred denim spirit’s use of a popped denim collar under what appears to be a dark grey blazer. A role reversal never hurt anyone and while I’ll be the first to advocate for full-body denim, I can also appreciate just a hint here and there.