Over the last two years, every couple of months, one men's magazine or another touts Barker Black, the spin-off shoe company that started it's world takeover from Elizabeth Street. (The above is from a 2005 GQ)  Each time a company gets this much good ink, I resist. Band Of Outsiders¹ is a perfect example of a hip-outfitter whose product seems like it was designed with the fashion editors at GQ in mind - but turns out to be useless in the long run of things. Thom Brown likewise (I'm working on a theory that Brown represents the corruption of menswear by women's fashiong - for later.)

I thought I would hate Barker Black shoes. But, I don't. Initially I rolled my eyes: oh this whole Skull and Crossbones pattern in the brogues is just too cute by half. But you really only notice them when you get very close to the shoe - as in this spread from the British Esquire.

 

At a real-life distance, it actually just looks like normal a pair of very well constructed shoes. In the first photo, notice the crown shape in the loafer. I don't care if these shoes make some wall street types feel "subversive" - they are great, classic shoes - period. Just avoid their velvet slippers which are a bit too Vegas lounge for my taste. The detailing is enjoyed by the wearer and any woman who might find them by the bedside in the morning light. The shoes themselves are incredibly conservative. The brash bits are only in the most unobtrusive details. So, despite the relentless pimping by the men's fashion media complex, I'm a fan.

1. Take note of Band of Outsiders absurd website - which uses an obvious blogspot.com template and fills it with polaroids of Jason Schwartzman in their clothes.  Imagine a hooker who wanted to capture a clientele of ultra-slender, passive, intellectual types, ones who want to make love to mix-tapes of The Postal Service, Lauren Hill and Feist, so she gets plastic surgery to look like Tina Fey - that's Band of Outsiders. A whore for trust-funded hipsters. I thought this style of advertising lost its punch after the first round of Orbit-girl ads had my fellow Bard College students buying packs of spearmint gum with their Camel Reds from me at the campus bookstore (where I played Weezer and Ben Folds Five albums).

Annie Wilson has a great collection of GQ covers in her post celebrating GQ's stylish half century. The 50th anniversary issue itself features some of the regrets of the magazine, notably its dogged promotion of "one-piece suits."

Men's magazines have been in a funny place for some time. Maxim exerts tremendous pressure on the the Esquires and GQs. My ideal for a men's magazine is, of course, classic Esquire. A shot of daring literary content (which should now be geared mostly to mid- to long form journalism), a dose of throwaway features writing and profiles, some cheesecake photos, and good "service" (i.e. product recomendations, manners writing).

I may try to write a long form article on the history of men's magazines, from Esquire to Playboy to Maxim.

I know I'm a late-comer on this. But "The Suit" by Nicholas Antongiavanni (aka Michael Anton) is the most important book for living given to man since "The Imitation of Christ", by Thomas a'Kempis. This work is a blow against the vulgarians who populate our streets, our places of business, even our churches. All men who aspire to rise above schlubbiness must read it.

That means baseball and rain and my first layer of sunburn. Every spring the women take my breath away. Where were they all winter? Were the sweater so chunky that I forgot the shape of a woman?  The sudden appearance of dew kissed decolletage has sent most of my friends reeling. We don't recover ourselves until the fourth of July. This is my first full summer away from New York - and so that is just an excuse to link to this classic from Manhattan Transfer

Opera in the park, with bits of cheese and chilled Sancerre in plastic cups. Lingering lunches in shaded sidewalk bistros. Rooftop parties overserving beer out of garbage cans filled with ice and sand. Sunrise whiskeys with bartenders in the Rockaways. Girls in short skirts with beads of sweat on the small of their backs. Falling asleep on the lawn alongside the Hudson River. Aperitifs at A60. Midday movies to escape the humidity... - Manhattan Transfer (read the whole thing, please)

Oh, take me home! We'll see if D.C. inspires anything similar in a few weeks.

In the meantime spring also means a load of unusable recommendations in men's magazines. But not at the San Francisco lifestyle blog, Poetic and Chic. At some point, it seems I took a moment away from criticizing Barack Obama to make some recommendations. I normally like to speak in generalities about fashion but I was specific this time. I'm impressed with the other recommendations, particularly the brogues.

Mandarins who dominate the World, drop your backpacks, please.You would think in a sophisticated metropolitan city like Washington D.C. - you know the capital of a world empire - that men would know not to wear a backpack with their suit after the age of (I dunno) 20.

 Buy something leather with a shoulder strap or handles.

 

The BeauFlorence King has a delightfully educational look at Beau Brummell - one of the major innovators in men's fashion history, as she reviews Ian Kelly's biography of the Beau.

Beau met a poor end

The British Consul in Calais arranged for him to be placed in an insane asylum in Caen. Large tumors formed on his scrotum. He became incontinent and fouled his room so often that the staff, unable to bear touching him, hosed him down from a distance. And at the end, "the brain itself shrank away from the insides of the skull and granulated."

That the perfection of manly grace could come to this makes a superbly entertaining book one with a moral as well. - Florence King

Early in the piece, Florence correctly identifies Beau as a dandy and then misguidedly makes the dandy analogous with the modern metrosexual. (A word that is thankfully disappearing from our vocabulary as quickly as it entered). I do hope my friends, the cheerful guardians of taste at Dandyism.net respond to this indignity.

What I find most intriguing about the Beau is that he was often one of the only people in on his own joke.

[H]e saw through his host of acolytes and sycophants and dismissed them with genial contempt. "It is folly that is the making of me," he told the Duchess of York, one of the few people he really liked. "If the world is so silly as to admire my absurdities, you and I may know better, but what does that signify?"

PS: Join Poetic and Chic in opposing the absurd fashion legislation  HR 5055.

 

H.R. 5055 proposes a creative antithesis to the fashion industry by making it illegal for designers (professional & amateur alike,) to borrow and adapt ideas from each other. The bill is sponsored by Representative Goodlatte of Virginia, and while I’m sure he is a kind-hearted soul trying to do his best for his constituency, I honestly have a hard time believing that any of his constituents are fashion designers. -Annie Wilson

Surfeited San Francisco BureauAnnie Wilson ( you didn't know here?) has a fantastic blog about the good life. She has that great American talent, derived from Tom Wolfe and perhaps filtered by David Brooks of encapsulating our experiences through the consumer choices that we make. Imagine three hundred of the best catalogs run through a shredder and dumped onto the Golden Gate Bridge as glorious confetti over a parade.  In a post about the indulgent life, the prose has the lilt and languor we love (at our peril) here.

There is a lunch I had one Sunday in a tiny seaside café in St. Tropez... My friend Alexandra and I drove in from Aix-en-Provence for lunch and a day at the beach. It was April, and the town was quiet, full of the locals no one ever sees come August; our café was quieter still - far from the Vieux Port at the side of a small square. Even our impoverished studenthood allowed us the most tender housemade pasta, and a huge plate of garlicky Provençal mussels, which, I was convinced, had been neatly plucked from the rock in the sea only a few feet away. I remember the sunshine, the crisp, cold white wine, the orange and ochre of the stucco buildings, and the delight at having recently met my first wild peacock. - Annie Wilson

But it seems her true love is fashion.

Fall is every true fashion lover’s favorite season. The tweeds, the wools, the cashmere, the deep hues of rust, chocolate, olive, and aubergine… And not to mention the suede pumps and knee-high boots. It’s time to dive into the autumnal luxury and get yourself something new. Even though I’m long out of a uniform, I am still inclined to go get new saddle shoes and a fresh set of Pee Chees. The crispy edge to the air, the golden-hued light showing a lower sun in the sky – everyone seems inclined to layer. Where a month ago you were wilting in a sloppy peasant skirt, you now walk tall in a polished top coat and shiny t-strap pumps…It’s time to renew, refresh, and wrap up in something gorgeous. - Annie Wilson

Yes. For those of us who give into these trivialities Fall is a welcome time for fashion. Haven't we grown tired of flip flops and cargo shorts? The sweat that glistens on her exposed lower back just where the camisole ends was alluring in May, charming in June - but is now depressing. I want a breeze at night that makes us look for a street corner to hide behind so we can keep talking. I keep leaning back like I'm about to leave and she keeps leaning in and we have no idea how we are going to escalate physical contact until it is okay to kiss. Or at least fall always bring these thoughts to my mind. Click on that, I loved writing that post.

Incredible three piece suit, shirt combination on a too-baby faced model.When I get offered some great book contract and the world is Surfeited with Dougherty, I've decided to take a drive to Florence Alabama to blow my wad on suits and jeans. IN the past I've thought this or that designer did something nice. DIor suits are cool - I dig the shoulder and the slim leg - or I used to. Marc Jacobs makes incredible cashmere v-neck sweaters - and I would like to have a blue one this Christmas.  But I've never found a designer that makes me want to write about fashion more than I do, or makes me feel like a devotee. But I've discovered that I totally dig designer Billy Reid.  Florence is the home of Billy Reid and his flagship store. His suits have a Southern gothic element that isn't exactly what I imagine characters in a Flannery O'Connor short story wearing so much as I imagine what they would wear in a stylized Hollywood film based on those short stories.

A Refuge for Men of TasteHis website has a little information on his background, but more exciting it plays my favorite song from delta blues gospel band, Ollabelle, "Get Back Temptation".  

PS: The Satorialist has a remembrance of September 11th that is quite unique among those I've read today.  

Enclosure

 

I have no instructions on whether you should wear an Elton John belt-buckleIt's back. More life instructions from a blogger - exactly what you needed when you woke up this morning, I know. But the fact is, most of you are terrible at living life. Look to your left undergraduate reader of Surfeited with Dainties, your towel is on the floor. You're surrounded by the wrappers that were used to protect your pre-made food from dirt and decay. You can't make your own food. You don't know how to fold a pocket square or where to buy your drugs. How do you get out of bed? You are that unprepared to interact with human beings. Previous installments in this series here and here.

Don't be the Guy who

• forces his friends to watch his favorite movies
• eats chicken wings when the there are more women around than men
• tries to pop a mosquito bite at work.
  
• kicks a friends tires to show disrespect for his ride
• even asks if his girlfriend can come out on a guys-nite out
• uses hand gestures as he orders wine
• eats more than one meal in a car a week
• eats a meal on the subway
• refers to the style of his shirt as "bengal-striped" in front of people he knows have no idea that he just means that he has thin stripes on his shirt
  
• starts a graduate level discourse on "erotica" when he is caught with something vaguely pornographic
  

Be the Guy who:

 

• uses facial cleanser but hides it like a bag of cocaine under the bathroom sink
• has shoe polish in his closet
  
• dislikes feminism but doesn't say anything about it in mixed company
• goes to Church even if his weekend hosts do not (They won't feel uncomfortable as long as you don't give them a too-sincere deep gaze and announce 'I'm praying for you"
• leaves his copy of Robert Greene's The Art of Seduction out, but not in plain view when he brings a date home
• has a few things that are framed in his apartment
• can go one night without Sportscenter
• has two bottles of wine at the ready for that night
• believes Lee Harvey Oswald did it
• has spent at least one night of his life sleeping in his car in a strange town

 

This is A Gin InduceI'm not kidding when I say this was written at 2 a.m. under the influence of Gin. Of course that gin followed the Woodford Reserve (the bar in Clarendon was out of Maker's Mark).   My fingers feel heavy. But I took a look at the usual suspects and have rendered judgement.

Everyone is dead wrong. I have to get this out before the influence of the gin fades away. Guys DO NOT want the indie girl - the "manic depressive, without the depressive part." They do want the girl who will save them from themselves but it boils down to this: Any man worth his salt wants a woman who will lift him up when he has cast himself too far down, and  who will put him down when he is on cloud nine. Men do not want our women to be nerds. Men want women to redeem us from our nerd-dom. Instinctively we know that women are emotional on the outside; they want "connection",  and "to be on the same wavelength" - etc etc... But at their core - women are calculating. First and foremost, they have to protect themselves and their children from men who are stronger than they are. When all the lovely trappings of civility are stripped away:  when the man has lost his job and seems unwilling to find work, when he can't pay the bills, when he proves himself a third or fourth time to be irresponsible with the resources needed to maintain the lives of the woman and the children  - she will make the cold rational decision to leave. Men, on the other hand can survive, as Dave Chapelle wisely noted, in a cardboard box. The only reason we get dressed, the only reason we shave, or buy furniture from Crate and Barrel; the only reason we love wine, or learn about sports, or politics and philosophy is to impress you. It may be indirectly. You may not care about philosophy. But you care that we took the trouble to learn about Descartes and Kant; that we can out duel each other in our ability to explain these things - and on and on. The only thing we do for ourselves and our own enjoyment is start and maintain blogs. Men appear to be rational and calculating on the outside - but it is only (I cannot emphasize this enough) because we are entirely at the mercy of women. Because men are hardwired to "have dominion" - to control, to rule over, to dominate - and because modernity presents us with so many structures, processes and institutions which we depend on but do not control - we often seem distant, or calculating. We become "players" because we are afraid you will reject us. But at our core - we absolutely need you. I'm sorry it turned out this way. Men buy into the late medieval idea of man absolutely abdicating his will (his life)to the mere whims of our beloved. At least, we buy into it more than women do.

If a man has treated you badly it is most likely because you betrayed the idealized version of yourself to him. You slept with him, when he believed you to be so pure that you could redeem him from his lust. You gave into his will, when he knew his will to be disordered. I've said too much already.

A note on Indie Girls: Indie Girls, that is to say, girls who study, with Jesuitical fervor, fine distinctions in rock genres, who take time to browse through vintage clothing shops to find the perfectly alluring mix of "old fashion" and contemporary fashion to make themselves (what I call) "archetypal strangers", are attractive. Without subordinate clauses: Indie girls are attractive. Guys in their thrall will spend hours thinking of the "perfection" that is their red shoes. Red shoes, under well fit jeans and a well tailored shirt, with distinctive shoulders. Her sable-made hair with a group or strands that gets in her eyes just so. Her walk. Her professed liberalism but instinctive conservatism.  The way she casually talks about her friends' casual use of drugs. When you mention the bass line to Beck's song "Paper Tiger" she tells you: "I knew you were going to say that." She looks at you and makes a gesture and mentions her "Spidey sense." 

If you fall for the Indie girl for any one of these reasons, she will begin to disrespect you. I'm too tired to explain it now - but it is true. 

Another note: If you do fall for an indie girl, at least keep one bit of self respect: Never, ever pretend that you like Ani DiFranco. EVER.  

Relevant links: Ross and Peter.  

 

Nantucket Reds for Blue Bloods, SON! Hat tip to my good friend John Carney of Dealbreaker.com for this - an instant classic. I applaud the makers for also finding clothes that are just a little louder than preppy. I practically feel like I'm in Wilton Connecticut again or Ridgefield. The great thing about preppy style is not the pink polo (collar poppin') under the seersucker - it is the fantastic pants! I'm seeing seersucker embroidered with whales, Nantucket reds (classic). The only thing that is missing is the Episcopal Church and a nod to Nantucket. Anyone notice that L.L. Bean seems to have fallen out of fashion among this set?

Behold 

Still not FashionableNot only did the flip flop come back in New York City first - it has now been declared dead there as well. Not even the Confederate flag makes it a rebel statement at this point. You just look like a behind the times queen from LSU.

I've seen flip-flops worn with suits! And many of the boys are not as careful about their pedicures as the ladies. And even the ladies get sloppy, or at least they get dirty dogs over the course of the day. It almost makes you long for the old foot-washing habits of the New Testament.

So, as much as it hurts to do this, I'm going to have to declare that flip-flops are over. If you are wearing them on the street you are in violation. I mean, if we let this go on, pretty soon we're going to see guys walking the streets of Chelsea wearing towels. - Glen O'Brien

Make It StopSavile Row is in trouble according to this report in IHT. The problem is high rents.

Sewing shops along Savile Row, where Fred Astaire, Cary Grant and Prince Charles once bought custom-made suits, are being converted into luxury offices and retail stores as the growth of London's financial-services industry makes the West End, home to Savile Row, the most expensive place in the world to rent. - Byran Lysaght

Even worse, some of the world's most sought after tailors are being pushed around by Abercrombie and Fitch

The US-based fashion brand Abercrombie & Fitch is poised to open its first UK flagship store there; last year Japanese retailer Evisu, more famous for its denim than bespoke tailoring, launched its stand-alone store slap bang in the middle of the street; and now there are plans to develop an office block based at the building that was formerly occupied by English Heritage. - Mad.Co.uk

Let's give up and start wearing Burger King Crowns and whatever flip flops Lindsay Lohan is sporting this week.  Let's make every wall a digital landscape and just loop Old Navy commercials on them. Now not everyone should be wearing Savile Row style suits - just the people I meet. But the fact that people wear them is important to Western Civilization - its very survival even. I could write a House of Rothschild-length tome on the relationship between sexual indifference and bad clothing - but for now I will only say: All you fornicators out there, I tell you a day is coming when clothes will become so boring that it will be hardly worth helping tonight's lover out of them. That will be a dark day not only for you, but also for the single and chaste.

No, I Won't Need Your NumberJust when it seemed women finally learned to wear a skirt the whole thing is falling apart. One of the worst early 90's fashion trends for women is on the way back: the baby doll dress -- only, as you can see from the picture to the left, like war with Iraq, it's much less tolerable the second time around. The picture is from the catalog of one of the trendier stores among high school and college students. But the trend has been noticed by the NY Times style section:

Some of these young women are drawn to the mini’s simplicity and naïve charm. Bubble-shaped variations like those sold by the hundreds at Urban Outfitters are captivating to Andie Tham, 24, an artist visiting Manhattan from Melbourne, Australia, who wore hers over black tights. It put her in mind, she said, of “the little bubble outfits my mom used to make for me as a kid,’’ some that matched those on her Cabbage Patch doll. - Ruth La Ferla

Looking like a little kid or a cabbage patch doll is not good. One can only hope this trend comes and goes as quickly as the revival of Ugg boots (barely seen this past winter) or the leg-warmers + flip flops thing I saw a few times.

By the way, The Sartorialist has a shot of how men should look when they go to work in the summer. I'm taking notes on how to combine the spread collar shirt with a squared-off silk knit tie.

One Color at a Time PleaseSneakers are generally awful these days. If you aren't engaged in sporting activity you should not be wearing sneakers - that's it. And while I don't want to write any kind of ad copy without charging I cannot be happier about any shoe purchase than my Jack Purcells - the only sneaker that qualifies as a casual shoe.

They can be worn with jeans to good effect (unlike most sneakers).  Of course they look great with any of the preppy summer classics that one can order from J. Press . The white and blue versions can accompany a seersucker suit or even just a casual blazer over white ducks. They just look handsome and they are reasonably priced at Zappos. Also, this is one of the only shoes that you can just drop into the washing machine (get the canvas version) Be on the lookout for those who think that because "Jack" from Will and Grace often wore them, that they are reserved for gay culture. Nothing could be further from the truth. They are for well dressed men who do not fall into the bitter partisanship of those who prefer ostentation and discomfort as their sartorial signatures.