Special Ed

Shopping is generally a hit-or-miss pastime. You'll miss more than you'll hit if your tastes are particular, and since I'm picky as all hell, I actually find myself passing over more items than I buy. Sometimes, though, I see something spectacularly ugly, and it's worth blogging about.

For those of you unfamiliar with Ed Hardy, it's a line put out by Christian Audigier, who's had a lot of success outfitting men who may not actually be douchebags but dress like them in real life. Up until when I took this photo, I figured that Ed Hardy's whole thing was limited to ultra-casualwear: t-shirts, jeans, baseball caps, and the like. I never had any idea that the brand would venture into neckties, and by doing so, it's compromised its brand identity, breached good taste even further, and managed to make me throw up in my mouth a little.

Here's the thing: I can't stand Ed Hardy. I've only witnessed one person (a woman) look good in it, but in general I think the whole line looks foolish, immature, and profoundly douchey. However, none of what I've seen of the line is obscene or unhealthy, so though I may bitch about it until I'm blue in the face, I can't say a guy is dressed "incorrectly" when he puts on a t-shirt with a bunch of skulls and flames on it with "Life, Lust, and Lollipops" or whatever scribbled on the front.

This tie, on the other hand? This is more of an affront to the senses than the stupid t-shirts, because this is trying to be something it isn't. Even with trendy men wearing ultra-skinny ties today with skinny jeans, there's still a certain elegance that a tie lends to an outfit. "Ed Hardy by Christian Audigier" is not at all elegant, and wearing it will make you look like you belong on Jersey Shore. If you actually dress like you want to be on Jersey Shore, please e-mail me to set up a consultation.

What does this say about the style of the man who chooses to wear it? I think it comes down to a lack of sartorial confidence, i.e. "I don't really know what looks good, so if I put on this obviously designer tie, people will think I look good, or at least that I'm trendy." This man doesn't know how to get attention without screaming and is willing to be a walking billboard, used by the company he's financially supporting. Avoid this at all costs, and think of it this way: if someone digs the way you're dressed, it should be in such a way that they ask you who makes your clothes; they shouldn't know right off the bat.

Ace Hardware, or Happy Thanksgiving To All

After 17 years of living there, my parents will be the last of my family to move out of the house in which I grew up. I have positive feelings about it; my parents will be happy in their retirement and I'll be happy for them, and it's a normal part of the life cycle. It's not like I've lived there anytime recently, so no big deal, right?

Well, it is kind of a big deal. Not only is a significant chapter of my life coming to a very tangible end, it's happening around a major holiday, amplifying the strangeness of the fact that I'll likely never set foot in that house again. It naturally calls for some reminiscing, almost as if to honor the memory of where I came from and also to think about where I'm going. I'm truly thankful for the childhood I had in that house, but being a clotheshorse, I attach these memories to some pretty exceptional hardware I received from my grandfathers, which is pictured above.

Zadie had a thing for cufflinks back in the 60's. Any photo I have of him as a young man indicates that he was a very well-dressed young professional. I don't share his taste at all; big red and gold stones set inside gold links is loud in a way I don't particularly care for. You can, however, tell that he was a man with a strong, singular sense of style. In fact, nearly every piece of man-jewelry I inherited from him is just as exaggerated, with the exception of the silver pair you see above. They go with anything and are a very cool shape. I've worn them with great success. They still make the occasional cameo, and they're a hit when they do.

Papa, on the other hand, seems to have had a thing for rings. My dad, the man who taught me how to dress like a man (God dammit) has a few rings he likes, one of which he gave to me years ago. It's the one on the far right, though he had the stone replaced with an aquamarine, my birthstone. The ring to its left was Papa's, a simple gold and silver combination. While I appreciate the former's opulence and the latter's simplicity, I simply didn't get the ring memo and never wear them. I DID, however, inherit an incredible tie clip from him that I used to wear constantly, though it's not pictured here because I lost it a year ago like a damned fool. It was masculine elegance in action; brushed silver with a line of X's on it (looking like: xxxxxxxxx) on a black background, and a perfect two-and-a-half inches wide. I got compliments on it all the time, and I loved telling anyone who asked me "Where did you get that?" that I paid nothing for some designer tie clip, but rather inherited it from my grandfather.

For me, no better patrimony could possibly exist.

The New Odd Jacket and Trousers

There are times in your life when you're in a nondescript hotel room in northern Virginia without a damned thing to do because the only thing around is a Bertucci's and a Borders book store. You're tired, your legs hurt, you need to shave, and you're looking forward to a time when you can return to civilization. At the very least, you can't wait to go back to a place where there are delicious tacos in walking distance.

Interestingly enough for me, this is one of those times. Hence, this blog entry.

I've been more excited than a fat kid in a Hostess factory for the past week and a half because I finally got my new sport coat (pictured above) back from the tailor, who shortened the sleeves and took in the waist for me. I'd been on the lookout for something like this for months; a wool sport coat that dresses up or down, something I can wear with a shirt and tie or a casual sweater. I own a couple of corduroy sport coats, but they've never fit quite right and I don't wear them as a result. This coat remedied my situation.

Last week I went out wearing the outfit pictured above, but the component you can't see in the picture are the jeans I was wearing. Dark and slim, they work with the heavy wool coat because denim is also a heavy fabric and serves as a good aesthetic complement as a result.

Then it hit me: I was essentially wearing what is known in stodgy sartorial circles as an odd jacket and trousers. You know what it is because you've seen the basic uniform a million times: khaki pants, navy blazer, white dress shirt, and a red or blue tie. In my younger days I disliked this look because I felt it was trying to be a suit but inherently failing, but I was mistaken. The options for color and pattern coordination multiply exponentially when you don this outfit (as opposed to a traditional suit), and the potential for dandification follows suit. Pairing my sport coat with jeans instead of, say, flannel pants (which would be an equally baller option), lent a more youthful feel to the whole getup.

I certainly can't take credit for inventing the look, but I can sure as hell suggest that you give it a try. If your execution is on point, you'll be blown away by the compliments.

A Treatise On Tassels

If you're into reincarnation and past lives, you might say that I'm an old soul. My parents always used to say that I was "insert elementary school age here" going on thirty, and they were probably more correct than they imagined. Case in point: I love wearing tassel loafers with casual wear.

Some of you will snicker and say "Mike, they look silly," or "Mike, you should enjoy your youth and throw on some Chucks," or "Mike, you can't wear those until you pay for a routine colonoscopy with money from your first Social Security check."

Well, Social Security isn't going to exist by the time I get to that age, so I have to get it in now while I can. I do, however, understand the apprehension that most guys have towards them. Most tassel loafers aren't cool in the traditional sense because most men who wear them are either past middle age or are young men who don't know how to dress themselves, so they just mimic what their dads (who, again, are past middle age) do. Hardly a recipe for looking baller at the club.

On the other hand, for a day off where you're moseying about the city, getting coffee, or hitting up a diner, tassel loafers are fantastic. Yes, I like them because it is indeed ironic to be a young guy in tassels, but the tassels themselves add visual interest, and they play very nicely with the blue lambswool cardigan I happen to be rocking the living hell out of at the time of this writing. So what differentiates cool ones from uncool ones?

First we need to talk about vamps. "Vamp" is a term that refers to the topmost part of any loafer. A women's ballet flat, for example, has a very low vamp, barely covering just the toes. Most loafers advertised to younger men tend to have higher vamps, but most tassel loafers are pretty low-vamped. In my opinion, this is what makes them look old man-ish, more "Grandpa" than "chic." Find yourself a pair of higher-vamped tassel loafers and you're on your way to looking like a well-dressed guy as opposed to a schlumpy old man.

Second, don't wear them with a suit unless you're a hell of a dresser and know precisely what you're doing. Sockless tassels with a slim suit can be very chic and Italian-inspired, but doing the same thing with a Brooks Brothers sack suit just looks like crap. Jeans and khakis, kept slim, will work well with high-vamped tassels. If you're a confident, advanced dresser, try them with some loud socks and well-cut dress pants. If anyone gives you a hard time, tell them you're prepping for your golden years.

Reaching Back

When presented with the "does life influence art or vice-versa" argument, I always say yes, life does influence art. In fact, our environment has a profound effect on how we act and how we view the world. For example, NWA probably wouldn't have written "Fuck the Police" had they not witnessed or been a victim of police brutality. It's tough to believe that anyone would make that up. What we wear falls into the same category as art, and I'll explain below.

These are rough and often crazy times in which we live; the economy is still fragile, barely improving and will likely never return to the relative full-blown opulence we had in the eighties, nineties, and most of the 00's. Home ownership is still incredibly sluggish. We're scared of terrorists to the point of Islamophobia. We're pissed off at the banks and the bailout they received. President Obama, despite being an intelligent lawyer who certainly knows better, is more than willing to pervert our justice system by trying Guantanamo detainees in U.S. courts and KEEP THEM IMPRISONED IF THEY'RE FOUND INNOCENT. And healthcare? Christ. We're either disappointed that the public option died or, conversely, furious that so much money is being spent on new regulations. To top it off, some people still think that Sarah Palin is worth listening to, and Newt Gingrich's renaissance is underway.

Pardon the language, but shit is fucked up right now.

So how do we deal with this? Sartorially speaking (with a hint of Freud thrown in there), we've regressed. What are men wearing nowadays? Open up a GQ or an Esquire magazine and you'll see it plain as day: stuff our dads and their dads wore. Cardigans. Persol glasses. Tie bars and cufflinks. Slim, mod suits like we saw in the sixties. Hell, look at the picture of Mr. Rogers at the top of this essay; the man might as well be a Fall/Winter 2010 Polo Ralph Lauren ad (seriously, I'm going to steal this look, tie pin and all). I don't ever advise total bandwagoning, but if the people on said bandwagon are nattily dressed in classic clothes, jumping on it means that you never really have to get off of it.

We're reaching back for a time when things seemed safer and more secure, a time when flying didn't mean anxiety about being blown up or when we could be sure that our retirement funds would actually be there when we retired. Thankfully, that time was also a very well-dressed one. Your 401(k) might not look so hot anymore, but with trends the way they are nowadays, at least you can.

Return of the Texas Tuxedo

Though I didn't really start caring about how I was dressed until I was 16 years old, I was always clothes-conscious. Even as a small child I took particular pleasure in certain articles of clothing; I distinctly remember a white t-shirt with a green skull and crossbones which said "Bad to the Bone" in orange lettering that I loved to wear in Mrs. Tzizik's first grade class. As I reached the ripe old age of ten I decided that it was time to step things up a bit, so I took to wearing jeans, denim shirts, and bolo ties. Yes, there was a time when I would proudly rock a full-blown Texas Tuxedo, complete with appropriate neckwear.

The gentleman in this picture, however, was not ten years old.

To be fair, he wasn't wearing a bolo tie, or any kind of neckwear for that matter. The Texas Tux that he was wearing, though, is something against which I've previously railed, and you can read about it here.

Long story short, don't wear denim shirts with jeans. One element of good style is the ability to successfully pull off good levels of contrast in your outfits; this is why you wear a light blue shirt with a navy suit, not a dark blue one. The same logic applies to this gentleman's outfit. There is no contrast in material and almost no contrast in color whatsoever. When coupled with the tent-like fit of the shirt, this man looks like an amorphous blob of denim.

The solution: lose one piece of denim to achieve contrast between material and color. If you switch out the not-super-well-fitting-but-reasonably-acceptable-in-this-case Dad jeans for khakis, you're doing better, so long as you take that shirt to a tailor and get some darts put in it. Also, you can keep the jeans (or even better, upgrade them to something a little better-fitted and cooler), but substitute the denim shirt for a white button-down or perhaps a sweater. Either choice gives you instant improvement.

The Pillars of Style, Part II: Pattern Coordination

Back in June I started a series called "The Pillars of Style." It's time to expand on fit, and this, Part Two of the series, deals with pattern coordination. This subject in and of itself is a huge can of worms, so I'll be breaking it down over a few entries. First, let's make one thing clear:

In theory, any patten can work with any solid. This means solid shirt with patterned tie, patterned shirt with solid tie, patterned jacket with solid shirt, etc. These are your training wheels, and it's difficult to mess up unless you have Ray Charles' eye for color (don't worry, Part Three on color coordination is forthcoming). Try it out, but let's put on our big boy underpants and learn a slightly more advanced lesson.

MIXING TWO LIKE PATTERNS

Some guys looks amazing in a striped shirt paired with a repp stripe tie while others look schlubby. The same goes for men wearing windowpane pants with a gingham shirt. How do you make it work? You keep scale in mind.

"Scale? What the hell do you mean by scale?"

A pattern's scale is its size, its proportion. Take, for example, two sport jackets. One has pinstripes (meaning that the stripes are very thin, as if they were drawn with a freshly sharpened pencil) that are 1/8" apart, while the other has chalk stripes (stripes that look like they were drawn in -you guessed it- chalk) that are 1/2" apart. Both are stripes, but the chalk stripe pattern is of larger scale than its pinstripe brother. Got it? Good.

Take a look at the shirt/tie combination in the photo above. This is textbook stripe-on-stripe coordination, and it looks boss as hell. All the wearer did was realize that he had a striped theme going, and he varied their scales. Narrowly-spaced stripes look great against thick, wide stripes. The same theory applies to checks; small checks look great against big windowpanes, which are a type of check. Having two like patterns of different scales allows you to have an intelligent theme to your ensemble while not making the viewers' eyes have to work to differentiate between the two patterns.

Next time, we'll mix two different patterns. Stay tuned.