Tangled Up In Brown

Just a couple of nights ago, I had both the pleasure and the privilege of being invited to two friends' rehearsal dinner before their wedding. This was a particularly thoughtful gesture; my girlfriend is a bridesmaid while I'll just be reprising my role as drunken reveler on the big day. They went above and beyond the rules of wedding etiquette by inviting me, and I'm incredibly grateful for the gesture. Being the skinny fat man that I am, I will never refuse a delicious dinner, especially on someone else's dime. 

Oink.

In the days leading up to the dinner, however, I wondered: what the hell am I going to wear? I wear jeans 90% of the time (my work dress code pretty much requires it), so I was excited at the thought of actually dressing up a bit. I brought up some pretty bold sartorial choices to my girlfriend, and she had the good sense to remind me that it was still a casual dinner and to maybe not do everything in my power to draw attention to myself. 

She was right, and that's probably the only time she'll every get that in writing. It wasn't a dinner in my honor, so while it behooved me to dress well, being too rakish would have been a distasteful choice. Best to allow the attention to be directed where it belonged: to the bride and groom. Many people turn to black when they'd like to look nice without standing out, but I don't like black at all. In fact, I own no black clothing whatsoever. I did have a smart pair of dark brown dress pants though, so I decided on the following get-up, based on earth tones. Please pardon the poor photo quality; I'm not a good photographer and have never claimed to be:

I figured chocolate brown shoes would be too, well, chocolatey with chocolate brown pants, so I went with my new tan penny loafers:

In a rare turn of events, I decided to wear socks that weren't terribly bold in color (note the fine pinstripes in the pants):

The shirt is a beautiful but subdued multi-colored check, and the sport coat is the one I got back in November 2010 that I've worn nearly every single day that's been under 55 degrees. It was awesome with these pants:

All in all, I think it was a successful attempt at being sartorially respectful but still tasteful. Sometimes a little restraint goes a long way.

But only a little.

  

Hitting The Links

One of the perks of having an awesome girlfriend is that sometimes she buys you awesome things. I've made it clear from day one that I have a penchant for anything clothing related, and she knocked it out of the park with the cufflinks you see here:

These are totally sweet cufflinks. They're a completely neutral brushed silver, and they're handsome as all hell. What's even more impressive is that she found them on Etsy, meaning that she supported a local artisan and found something cool and a bit unusual, not something from the Donald Trump Collection at Macy's.

Good job, babe. 

KISS Is Not Just A Terrible Band

Let there be no confusion on the issue: I am a whore for pattern mixing. Not to give myself too much of a pat on the back, but I think this is a behavior exhibited and enjoyed by most advanced dressers. Managing to combine a gingham shirt with a paisley tie and a polka dot pocket square is a skill that takes a lot of time and practice to cultivate. Given that I've spent more time cultivating this skill than balancing my checkbook or learning to cook something that isn't Velveeta macaroni and cheese, I'm usually very happy to show it off.

There are times, however, when the concept of KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid) is called for. My girlfriend's workplace had a small open house a few days ago, and I figured that a little discretion was called for when meeting her boss and co-workers. Since I take "discretion" to mean "take it easy on the lavender socks and blue handkerchief with pink medallions," I opted for something a bit more sober and stuck to solids: a white dress shirt, navy blue tie, and grey merino wool cardigan. Dark, slim jeans and chocolate brown dress loafers rounded everything out, though I couldn't help myself with some argyle socks. Whatever. Sue me.

Wearing so many neutral solids at once had the additional benefit of reminding me that no matter what else, fit is king. Period. A simple but impeccably-fitted outfit will always look better than an ornate one that doesn't conform to the body properly. Never stray from that concept.

Learn Your Alterations: Lower A Collar

As I've said approximately 23,864,910 times before, very few articles of clothing will ever fit anyone perfectly off-the-rack. The shopping trip I went on with my girlfriend and a friend of ours last weekend further proved that. While clothes shopping is one of my favorite ways to pass the time, it can be frustrating for me due to the relative unavailability of off-the-rack clothes in a size that approximates my own. My girlfriend, on the other hand, fits into most clothes with no problems, and I'm not at all bitter or jealous of her in that respect.

Nope. Neither bitter nor jealous. Not one bit.

Anyway, we were at a thrift store where I can sometimes find cool things in my size; this place has blessed me with two pairs of impeccably fitting Levi's (one of which needed no alterations!), a white dress shirt with pink stripes (which needed plenty of alterations), and a few other things. 

While the pair of pants I was hoping would work ended up squeezing my thighs and giving me a case of moose knuckle like you wouldn't believe, I came across this beautiful jacket that didn't fit me, but could very well fit a buddy of mine (buddy and jacket are pictured here): 

It's a gorgeous Prince of Wales check in a black/grey with blue overlay, made from English wool, and has a substantial weight and luxurious hand that led me to believe it was worth much more that the $14 I paid for it. To hell with the fact that it couldn't fit me in a million years, I needed to buy it for someone so it would have a good home. It fits the gent above pretty well, but there's too much material across the shoulders, better demonstrated in this photo:

See all that extra material I'm pinching together there? That's referred to as a "roll" in your collar, and if left unattended, it can cause damage to the garment over the long term and misshape it.

The fix? Take it to a competent tailor and have him/her lower the collar. It's a pretty common alteration, and it'll do wonders for the look of your jacket. Don't pass up a great deal just because something doesn't fit you perfectly right off the bat.

The New Double-Breasted Jammy

For about two years now I've become increasingly obsessed with acquiring a double-breasted blazer. After such a long time searching and not finding anything in my size (big surprise), an acquaintance of mine told me that he had just the thing in his closet and that it was too big on him, but there was a catch: it needed a completely new lining.

After putting it on and seeing how well it fit, I decided that I could give a damn about putting a new lining in. I have never, literally never, had a jacket fit so well and need no alterations whatsoever. I was stunned not only at the fit, but in all the correctness of the details: 6x2 double-breasted stance, side vents, peak lapels, and the perfect shade of navy blue. This was an offer I couldn't refuse, to hell with the fact that a new lining costs $70 and the thing smelled like mothballs. The way I see it, if I don't patronize my tailor regularly, he might go out of business. If he goes out of business, my life is hell. Not only am I happy to do my part to avoid this, but I'd much rather pay $75 on repairs and dry cleaning than four times that amount on a new off-the-rack number that I'd have to alter anyway. Who's the big winner here? Mikey's the big winner.

This thing is going to be sick with khakis, grey flannels, and even white jeans in the spring/summer. I apologize in advance for the crappy nature of the following pictures, but I'm a crappy photographer, so that's what you get. Bear in mind that the camera on my phone (yeah, that's what I used, sue me) doesn't do the jacket's color any justice at all; it's a true navy blue, not black as it looks here:

Or here:

Jacket+white jeans/(tan tassel loafers-socks) x unbuttoned pink button-down shirt=MEGA BALLIN'. This is going to kill in the springtime.

Gluttony Of Every Sort

I've been living a life of excess for the past week. For starters, I had two Thanksgivings, the first of which was a week ago at my girlfriend's parents' place. The second was this past week at my parents' place. Like most of America, I kept eating despite not being hungry and managed to pack more caloric intake into one meal than I usually do in three, and I did it twice in the span of five days. I felt and still feel an unusual combination of feelings: pride (for having eaten so much), shame (at having eaten so much), and mild heartburn all come to mind.

Nothing, however, compares to the elation I felt when my dad presented me with a ton of old ties he'd been given. Even when he was working he never wore ties, but now that he's retired in Florida, he barely has occasion to even wear shoes, so he plopped a bag full of them in front of me and told me to dive in. It was guilt-free gluttony except that he also instructed me to see if my cousin wanted to take any of them, which I failed to do.

Ron, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I got carried away and acted like a selfish child. Please forgive me.

With the apology out of the way, you need to check these babies out. While I'm not a vintage nut, these ties are all decades old, and it's safe to say that Giuseppe from An Affordable Wardrobe (a blog that I religiously follow and suggest you do the same) would have a field day with these. This is only a fraction of my score-I came home with about twenty new-to-me ties-but these are all the labels that struck me as awesome. Check out this Floridian ridiculousness:

And some Long Island paisley insanity:

A cotton madras bowtie that was actually handmade in India, the birthplace of madras:

A real-deal Brooks Brothers number, likely from the 60's judging from its slimness:

I couldn't find information on when Mr. Pulitzer had his wares in L&H, but the label looks old:

To the unnamed man who passed away and inadvertently left these ties to me, I promise to keep them as well as you have and to one day pass them on to a worthy owner. Until then, I will be wearing the HELL out of these babies.

If The Shoe Fits

The author two years ago, with 37 pairs of shoes and what turned out to be an incredibly disappointing beard.

A reader named Matt left the following comment on an entry of mine a while back:

"Hey there, love the blog. I've looked through, and haven't seen any posts specifically related to your views on men's shoes. I'm trying to "grow up" my shoe collection, but there's lots of styles, and was wondering about how different styles of shoe can apply to different situations. Any thoughts?"


Good callout, Matt, and thanks for reading. I'm a full-blown footwear fanatic and will be the first to say that your shoe collection is incredibly important; a good pair of shoes will make you look like a million bucks while a bad pair will make you look more like, say, thirty-five.

Most people have to answer this question at some point in their lives when it comes to their footwear: black or brown? We all pledge our allegiance to one or the other at some point, and you have to decide for yourself which camp you fall into. This isn't to say that you can only own one or the other, but it does mean that most people gravitate to one side in general. I, for one, love brown shoes because brown shows off the character of the leather in a more handsome way than black, and I own quite a few in every shade ranging from light, orangey tans for summer to ultra-dark brown suedes for winter. Sure, I own a few black pairs, but these only see action once every two months or so. Keep my bias in mind as you read through the following list.

Without further ado, here's a list of a few pairs you can get by on for the rest of your life and not have to worry. Everything else is gravy from here:

• Black oxfords: They should have minimal ornamentation like perforations, seams, wingtips, etc. You need a shoe that you can wear to a job interview, funeral, or some other event that requires seriousness on your part, and this is it. Pair them with your grey or black slacks or suits and make sure they're leather-soled.
• Brown dress shoes: Try a medium shade, like a tobacco color. you can wear it all year round and it looks excellent with blue, grey, and tan suits or dress pants. Try a wingtip, cap-toe, or dress loafer to start, also with a leather sole.
• Brown casual shoes: These can be a rubber-soled slip-on or lace-up in whatever shade you like. Get a couple of different shades and styles so you can rotate them and not wear them out too quickly and throw them on with jeans or your khakis.
• Boat shoes: These are great for sockless wear in the warm weather and are a great chance to throw some color into your shoe collection. Find a pair in blue, red, green, cream, brown, or whatever you like that's available. Wear them with lightweight cotton pants or shorts in the summertime.
• Non-athletic sneakers: No Nike Shox and no New Balances, I don't care what J.Crew is offering. You can get a streamlined "sport-inspired" sneaker at very low cost if you look in the right places. Wear these with jeans when you're hung over at brunch on a Sunday.
• Snow boots: It sucks when your feet get cold and wet, no matter how grown up you are.

Like the rest of your wardrobe, take your time in building your shoe collection. There's a lot to learn about what you like and don't like: lasts (shoespeak for "silhouettes") that you like, styles that make your foot feel either great or uncomfortable, and how to build a shoe collection that syncs with the rest of your clothing. Own your style and don't be afraid to take a risk here and there. There's nothing more grown up about that.

Oh, and remember that while some shoes look good beaten up, oftentimes it just looks slovenly. A shoe shine kit is a man's best friend.