I like to think that Halloween serves to make us delve in our own creativities of how we dress; after a long summer of lesser fabrics and sockless abandon, it takes some transitioning to get back into the habit of deliberate layers. So from October 31st, we trot comfortably into winter with our favorite time of wear, guilty pleasure or not: dad style.
A Turkey of a Time for Clothes
Addendum to Wearing Girl’s Pants, I Guess.
As the course of all rules inevitably go, there’s always an exception. Imagine my surprise when I faced this same point in a serendipitously specific manner.
A week ago, I posted about my regrettable decision to wear women’s jeans. I thought this demon was behind me, and I could move on after the cathartic write-up. And then it reared its ugly head in the form of a sitcom B-storyline.
Quick context: In The IT Crowd, Moss is a socially stunted IT expert at the bottom rung of Reynholm Industries. Struggling to gain self-confidence, his boss gives – as usual – unsolicited advice. This time, Mr. Reynholm passes the secret of his unwavering self-esteem: women’s slacks. Moss takes this wisdom to heart and, well:
Well, I stand corrected.
By the way, if you haven’t seen it yet The IT Crowd is a fun comedy for freaks, geeks, and everyone in between. Check it on Netflix!
Keeping Your Best Foot Forward
Sundays Shine
The Missus went out for a cross-town errand run, so for a few hours the home became the pad. And of what debauchery and bad things did I get participate?
Shoe shining. I silently keep a distance away from my shoe shining box, because I just don’t want to get started on a pair. But of course, if you maintain a little bit over time, it’s really not that bad. So I threw THE COSMOS on and made this happen, finally:
It might’ve been Neil Degrasse Tyson’s delightfully scientific baritone to set me at peace, but for the first time I was determined to work in a mirror shine at the toe end of my shoe. It’s definitely a doable task, but it’s gonna take a whole lot of practice and patience.
RRL: Finer with Age
This evening we toasted to Double RL’s first year in Hong Kong with canned spirits, the twang of a folk duo, and the appreciation of a damned good denim outfit.
For those unfamiliar, Double RL aka RRL is a fine project for the house of Ralph Lauren. The outpost of Mr. Lauren’s ardor, this collection showcases his admiration for the frontiersmen and frontierswomen who built the great Americana. Iron-jawed union heroes and the rigid jeans a 15-hour shift could break. Sentinels of naval shipyards with only the pockets of a wool pea coat to save their hands. Daredevils of industry and the finely combed haberdashers who suited their panache. Every piece in this store carries the familiar tune of honest pay for honest work. A well-dressed museum of American history, if you’d ask me.
The RRL staff were generous in hosting the event, offering much more than new items to their impressive stock. Matt Abergel – owner of HK eateries Yardbird, Sunday’s Grocery, and Ronin – led his staff in passing artisan cheese sandwiches and cans of Suntory highballs throughout the night, which made this morning’s hangover completely deserved. The house band upstairs played out the celebration with bluegrass and and country harmonies, ringing in the anniversary with all the right tunes for a house of this style.
The Evolution of My Pants, Part I
What turned into a quick post about my new workhorse trousers turned into a reflection about how seventeen-year old me would shake his head at such a purchase. Upon further review, I’ve decided to put together a multi-part story on why it took me so long to finally get a nicely fitting pair of pants on my legs. I’m hoping you’ve been through the same, dear reader.
The Evolution of My Pants, Part I: The Price of Fitting In
If your misunderstood, angst-filled youth took place around the early 2000’s in American Suburbia, then the following statement should apply to you, or at least for my sake I hope to God it does: I’ve once owned a pair of girl’s jeans.
Such was the uniform of the early-era “Scene kid.” 80’s punk wore ripped jeans and black leather jackets, unifying a growing subculture. 2000’s hardcore threw on basketball shorts and baseball tees, allowing perfect mobility to activate the pit. But as bad luck and worse taste would have it, I chose the path of the early Scene.
A quick lesson on this “Scene.” From what I remember, in the late 90’s punk started moving towards a heavier and more complex sound, led by prototypes Refused and At the Drive-In. Once the sound inspired more bands to form, a fire caught in the hearts of the youth, who screamed and danced together in tiny venues. As a subculture, the genre was followed by a dress code, which I neither understood nor questioned. The Scene’s pieces of flair included the front mullet (regrettably detailed here), an edgy lip ring (mine lasted all of twenty-two hours before my mom threatened to kick me out of the house), and of course, those damn girl jeans.
Who can thow a Birthday Party on a Monday? The Armoury Can.
Last night I had the pleasure of attending the fourth-year anniversary of The Armoury – Hong Kong’s premier haberdashery – at their new Landmark location in Central. Below is what I can remember through snifters of Kilchomann.
The Armoury 2 has moved across the hall from its previous location to accommodate their growing fan base, as well as to expand into distilled offerings with new partner The Whiskey Library, a connoisseurie of liquors that pair seamlessly with a three-piece in wool. This collaboration proved impeccable last evening, with high spirits all around.
The Gentleman’s Escape
The celebrated Man Cave is a universal goal we hope to accomplish in our lifetime. Whether it an oak and book-paper soaked library for one, or gut shaking surround sound movie den, the purpose remains the same: a tiny plot of wall-to-wall escape to be the man you desire to be with the totems of manliness within a few paces’ reach. Since I currently have neither the means nor the space to realize my own Battlestar Galactica study, to the barbershop I go, and what a barbershop I found.
My Students? My Teachers.
Teaching is usually a pulverizing profession. Take for instance, Thanksgiving week of 2009. Three months into my first year of teaching, I was burning myself straight out the gate with dog and pony shows. With no creativity left, I resorted to leading the class into making hand-turkeys for their parents, which is fine if you’re teaching third grade. But not ninth. Not at all.
I outlined my open hand on the whiteboard to create the turkey’s body, just as a regular pair of tormentors decided to begin distractions for the day. Frustrated with the students’ general unwillingness to pay attention, disgusted with conceiving such a stupid idea, I reached my breaking point to the tune of “We’re drawing a TURKEY!” I know what I said because it was also the day I had to videotape my lesson for professional development. I “calmly” returned to drawing an orange beak on the thumb and have tried forgetting that blunder ever since.
Uniqlo + __________? Absolutely.
Since moving to China, I haven’t frequented two large retailers more than MUJI and UNIQLO. Both these shops provide two qualities from which I never prospered in the USA: Asian sizing and classic aesthetics. MUJI’s offerings of the minimalist aesthetic are ever-reflective of Japanese craft and an expert interpretation of American standards. What UNIQLO produces differently is in their ever-successful collaborations.