This is a recap-ish of the latest podcast episode. You can listen to the episode below before or after you read. That’s because I tend to expand on topics from the pod as well as straight-up write about things that we did not discuss. The choice is yours in how you want to proceed!
Hello, my friends!
First off, let me say how happy I am that the Whimsy article was finally released. As you can probably tell (if you actually read it), that piece was the first philosophical “essay” I’ve done in a long time. The piece took a lot out of me to write, which makes sense, as the topic was really quite important to me: exploring Whimsy wasn’t just a dive into how I approach menswear, but my entire life. It sounds silly, but the two (life and menswear) are inextricably linked, which is likely not the case for most menswear-wearers out there, though I hope some of you found it inspiring! I’ll count it a win if I just see one of you eating ice cream in a big ol suit.
And now that Whimsy has been defined, I can finally get back to covering what actually matters: outfits worn in real life. Because again, this blog is about wearing menswear!
Saying “Yes” To The Cape
Before that, I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about a particularly Whimsical acquisition of mine: a cape. Yes— I bought a fucking cape!
That should be far from surprising when you consider the type of person (and dresser) that I am. I’m a dude who not only wears full suits with collar bars and pattern-mixing (to do regular life stuff, no less), but I also wear fedoras, berets, cloaks, and riding boots. A cape is par for the course (a pun that will make sense later)! It has its own blog post here, but I can go into it a bit for you lazy lot.
It’s basically a WWII UK rain cape, purchased from What Price Glory, the same repro company that made the gurkhas I wrote about all those years ago. I initially tried finding something a bit “dressier”, but found that it was all a bit too regal (like those Knights of Columbus ones that you find easily on eBay). My search later led me to old examples from Lemaire and Engineered Garments, both of which seemed to be baked on mid-century military garb, but unfortunately, no one was selling them. True vintage also seemed impossible (or too expensive), and so repro was the way to go! Eighty bucks later, a rubbery, khaki colored cape (I didn’t know it was rubberized cotton; that’s on me) showed up on my doorstep. I immediately plunged it into a navy-blue Rit Dye bath, as khaki felt a bit too militaristic and bland for my more “dandy” style. The final result was a dusty greenish-blue that I actually really enjoyed; it definitely looked like something from Lemaire or EG.
Surprisingly (or perhaps, not surprisingly), the cape has been very easy to wear! With the recent muggy, mild weather, I was able to get a few fits off, all of which feel like a natural extension of my existing style. Again, you can read more about it in its own blog post, which also has some extra inspo photos that may or may not convert you into a cape wearer myself. I’m more than happy to be one of the few non-Spanish menswear guys (as Spain is known for those beautiful bespoke capes) to wear one, but I’ll appreciate the company!
Getting Pithy
On the subject of wearing military things for fun, I should let you all know that I actually own a Pith Helmet. Much like the cape, I’ve entertained the idea of one for quite a while, with the Pith helmet serving as an iconic example of costumey menswear that I felt I could wear…somehow. Pairing it with a white or khaki suit seems like a no-brainer, with the pith helmet only adding to the explorer/traveler vibe that such garments already have; there’s a very specific Apparel Arts illustration that comes to mind, of a man wearing that outfit on a cruise ship. I also think it would be funny to wear as a part of a black tie rig, as if I’ve just come back from shooting animals on safari— with a camera, mind you. Like any kid,
I’ve come across a handful of helmets during my years of picking at the flea, but most were either too small for my big noggin or too cheap in construction. At some point (I can’t recall which one), I found one that looked the part (fully hard-cloth with the leather sweat band intact) and was cheap, paying only $20. It was even dated 1948 through a stamp on the inside! But, as you’d probably expected, it sat on my shelf, functioning as decor under my more “wearable” hats like my fedoras and sporty Tyrolean. I was determined to wear it, and this past Memorial Day, I finally did.
It’s honestly nothing special. The pith helmet was basically a hard hat to wear around the pool and shield my eyes from the sun. It’s a bit more interesting than a bucket hat or cap and certainly more practical (or use-appropriate) than a beret or fedora. You might wonder why I didn’t just wear my optimo straw, and that’s because the damn thing warped the last time I wore it around water. I eventually got it back to a semblance of “normal” with a bit of steam from my iron (the brim is cracked, and the original, fine center pinch is now more like a blunted horn), but I decided to never bring it again. And that’s what made the Pith Helmet such a great wear for the pool day; it remained steadfast, even when I sat in the hot tub.
Of course, the Helmet made for a fun accent with the rest of my outfit, a slouchy, tonal combination of a guayabera jacket, white sport shirt (my first BM purchase, believe it or not), and cotton-silk trows. Even when lounging around with pals, planning our upcoming trip to Japan calls for a fun, if not a bit dandy (or Whimsical), outfit.
Out & About, Being Whimsical
Now, let’s talk about some fun things I’ve done that featured some Whimsical attire. Again, this is about being in menswear, where being really just means living life.
The first is a menswear event, an Occasion that most guys tend to enjoy simply because it’s the one place where dressing up in an IYKYK way makes sense. Unlike NYC, such events seldom happen in Los Angeles. If you want to peacock, you’ll have to wait for the next Buck Mason happening (which happens semi-often) or simply take your fits to one of the many fleas that occur around the city; there’s also a handful of infamous Silverlake bars that are quite popular for rocking big pants and loafers. But even though such attire was plentiful that weekend, this particular event was not BM-related. It was for Merz B. Schwanen.
Yes, the Bear-shirt company (well, half of it, as Carmy also wears a Whitesville jawn) has touched down in Los Angeles, specifically on the West side of this giant county. The intimate storefront can now be found on the famous Abbot Kinney Boulevard, sharing the high street with Todd Snyder, Jacque Marie Mage, Corridor, J. Crew, and, as you expected, Buck Mason. LA’s own Edgy Albert hosted the event, greeting menswear influencers, enthusiasts, and curious bystanders alike with a German beer (and pretzel) in hand. I had never handled a Merz shirt before (I don’t really need a heavyweight tee) and had only been to Abbot Kinney twice (for JMMs and a Todd Snyder event), so I decided to take an afternoon to myself to check it out.
It was a nice little time, certainly a lot smaller than any other event I’ve been to. The Merz store is tiny, being much smaller than the Silverlake BM), which makes sense as their stock is intentionally limited; their racks held the famous tees, in addition to Henleys, sweaters, boxers (made of the same heavyweight fabric), and their selection of twill chore coats and jeans/chinos (which you can combine to make a suit). I wasn’t looking to buy anything (I either wear my trusty J. Crew slubs or an old merch/graphic tee), so I didn’t try anything on. If you’re after a recommendation, you can certainly find a detailed review from another, more interesting menswear personality.
No, I was there to enjoy a Saturday evening with friends. My good, and relatively new, friend Arthur was my date to Merz that evening; I lucked out that this lighting designer wasn’t needed on set that day. Arthur has become a wonderful, insightful pal who definitely finds kinship with being inherently dressed up just because he wants to; he often shows up to productions kitted out (usually something Western-ivy, as that’s more of his thing). It’s hard to believe that he’s only been into this whole menswear thing for under three years! When you see his vintage sport shirts, RRL chores, and cordovan Alden loafers, you could certainly believe that he’s been into this for decades. His look that day, being a short-sleeve short jacket over a ribbed tank and selvedge jeans, certainly made sense for Venice Beach, if not being a bit more vintage in appearance.
I, on the other hand, must have looked absolutely insane. There I was holding a delicious blood orange NA aperitif less than a mile from the Pacific Ocean, wearing a wool beret, a checked work shirt, and riding boots. My attire couldn’t have been more closed-up and fall-coded, and yet there I was, mingling with other dudes in plain tees (likely Merz, to show support), open shirts, and big jeans and loafers; the famous Jon Jawnz made an appearance in a severely unbuttoned shirt and leather flip-flops. I was chillin’ because I was dressed for a different Occasion that occurred earlier that day: I took my girlfriend to the Bug Fair at the Natural History Museum, and as such, opted for a faux-intellectual look that nodded toward vintage and Whimsy. The outfit was perfect for the day, but it obviously contrasted with the ever-present Venice attitude on Abbot Kinney that evening. I think the whole effect was hilarious. As I wrote about before, I only wear one outfit a day, and that’s what I happened to be wearing!
(All of those layers meant that I didn’t feel the need to try anything on, which is fine because I really don’t need a T-shirt).
Arthur and I spent the entire evening chatting away, getting into various topics on menswear, such as Whimsy and our thoughts on Personal Stylists, something I will touch on before closing. We talked a bit with Jon Jawnz, who gave us a bit of insight on what it was like to do taxes as an influencer, and Eugene Park, an up-and-comer who apparently has never seen any Star Wars in his life…and just bought his first suit-suit from Scott Fraser. I told him to let me know how each one turns out, particularly the former. Overall, it was a fun little evening that reminds me that, as commercial as they are, menswear events aren’t that bad, at least when you’re just there to indulge in complimentary drinks and snacks.
Though if I ever make the leap to buy a $90 tee, you’ll know it’s because the seeds were planted that night.
Even though I don’t mind dressing “out of place” because I make my outfits almost independently of context, I do admit that I tend to like it when there is some sort of dress code or theme, even if it’s just encouraged. Think of Dapper Day or Antonella’s funeral-themed birthday. It just makes my “character” a bit more grounded in something “real”; it’s never necessary, but rather just a nice-to-have that adds to the experience of wearing the outfit.
That was certainly the case when I decided to go have a mini-golf date with my girlfriend. I am horrible at it (I’m much better at arcades or escape rooms) and haven’t really gone on too many; the last time was on a date with someone else, where I am certain my horrible short game likely gave her the ick. This time, however, I’ve been with my girlfriend for a few months, so I’d like to think she’s at least a little locked in. This also meant I was comfortable wearing a Whimsical golf-themed outfit, a POV I’ve never done before!
My mind went through a few options. I initially thought of something mid-century, either going minimal (a navy polo, chinos, deck shoes, and a cardigan or blouson) or loud and preppy (a vibrant sport shirt, madras trousers, and a blazer). In the end, I decided to go earlier, taking advantage of the immediate moment to go bold, as I am not sure when I’d get to go again; once you’ve done the courses, there’s no real need to return, unless you really want to master it. There’s also the fact that Whimsy was still on my mind, and going Full Send just seemed appropriate.
Golf whites (more like beiges) was the move, done in a nod to the 1910s. Instead of a blouson or blazer, I donned my white cotton sport vest, a unique, cropped workwear jacket that lacks a collar or lapel. It looked quite smart as a “suit”, being paired with my khaki jodphurs and tall black riding boots, my replacement for plus-fours and high socks (perhaps someday I’ll make that leap). I did keep my internal promise to wear something colorful and spring-y, wearing my beloved pink reverse-striped spearpoint commissioned during my Ascot Chang days; I’m very grateful it fits, however snugly, over eight years later. A lovely blue and red deco-stripe tie and beige beret (I do not own any sort of flat cap) were the final touches in crafting a jaunty little ensemble that made losing every hole (ayo) to my girlfriend all the more enjoyable.
Like I said in the previous blog/pod, wearing amusing outfits to do amusing activities is exactly what this hobby is about for me. But now, all I can think of are the other golf outfits that I opted out of wearing. Perhaps this just means that I’ll actually need to return, not just to rock something more 60s-oriented, but to reclaim my honor. Even if I fail, I’ll be happy knowing that my outfit was on par. That’s really all that matters!
Thought the fun was over? Think again! Turns out I had two more Occasions to dress up for, allowing me to stretch my cosplay/Cinematic Dressing muscles and make the activity even better! I just didn’t get to talk about it on the pod… because we record the majority of these in advance. I’m sure you, dear reader, aren’t complaining since it gives you more to scroll while you’re planted on the shitter. 😉
The first was go-karting. I’ve raced once before at a local amusement park/arcade place when I was in summer day camp, but it was very casual; just a bunch of color-coded, gas-powered karts running around a track with no way to track standings or laps. You just ride around until the announcer says “stop”. It’s far from bad, but as someone who grew up as quite the competitive Mario Kart racer, I’ve always wanted something a bit more intense. Turns out my friend Michelle tried K1 during a corporate outing and asked a few of us if we wanted to go. I was so in.
Ironically, I was a terrible racer. I was so fuckin’ slow, sliding a bit on each turn and never able to actually overtake anyone—other than when a guy (who was nationally ranked) lapped me and forced the person in front to move aside, finally allowing me an opening. It was actually all rather intense, with a group of 8-10 fully helmeted e-karters (no gas or exhaust smells!) speeding along a winding, two-story track. A giant screen displaying position and lap times added to the pressure and spirit of the 15-minute competition. This was the level of racing I was after, and it was very humbling to know that I am leagues behind the kids and their families who are simply out on a Sunday afternoon… or the dudes who clearly have some sort of membership and come back each weekend to improve their national rankings.
Even though my driving skills were, like my minigolf prowess, under par, I at least looked the part. Or at least, I tried to with what I got! Obviously a jumpsuit would have been good, but I haven’t owned one since I sold my WWII HBT one to Jay a few years ago (I just never wore it). A mechanic look, using some sort of Canadian tuxedo (or a heavy amount of chambray and denim) would have been fine too, but I wanted this to be a bit special. That meant riding pants, riding boots, and a jaunty little scarf for a decidedly racer vibe. Initially I wore a cream button-up to evoke a jumpsuit with my khaki breeches, but it ended up looking a bit too “safari”. Instead, I wore a white T-shirt with a blue bandana and threw on my red short jacket. The jacket is a vintage Boy Scout jawn, but I thought that the vibrant color was enough to give it a racer attitude. It certainly looked quite nice under a blue helmet (and matching balaclava). If only I raced better.
Another fun Americana-youth themed activity was bowling! You would think that for someone who likes vintage clothing so much, bowling would be a common pastime. Unfortunately no, because my time is spent obsessively cataloging my life. But it’s nice to take some time with friends to undertake yet another form of friendly competition. Unfortunately, I am also quite bad at bowling, but that didn’t stop me from having fun—and wearing a fun little summer fit. I don’t actually have a proper bowling shirt (two-tone, with embroidery), but a plain, vibrant rayon shirt gets the job done! Yellow was my choice (lots of fun colors in this post, huh?), which I paired with brown slacks and white shoes. The real move was to wear my Hollywood jacket, which really helped give it that 40/50s casual attitude I wanted, without being too casual (short jacket) or too formal (blazer). Again, nothing beats doing an activity in an appropriately themed outfit.
The vintage activities peaked when I went to my first-ever Art Deco Society event: having Sunday evening cocktails at the beautiful Spring St arcade. I had never been to the area (I don’t really hang out much in DTLA proper, mainly due to parking), but I was immediately taken with the gorgeous architecture.
I’m sure this sounds surprising, but Art Deco events, much like swing dancing, didn’t play much of a role in my appreciation of vintage style. I always felt like a bit of an imposter at similar events, mainly because I wasn’t as gungho into the period lifestyle as all of the other friendly people. And to be honest, I still felt those pangs of intimidation when I went, but thankfully, I had a small handful of pals who came along with me, all dressed to the nines in their own way. We were tourists in a land full of fully-formed friendships, but it was still a nice time! We shared a few compliments with other attendees. I even had a chance to catch up with my friend Dylan, who was one of my first vintage-scene pals; he rocked the “palm beach DB belt back with navy trouser” combo with the same aplomb as he did when I first met him. Dylan came with his own group of vintage compatriots, all of whom looked to be having a pleasant (and stylish) evening!
As this was the main sartorially inclined activity (at least from this blog post), I decided to do it right by wearing my cream DB suit. Two people asked if it was indeed Palm Beach, and I had to graciously tell them no; this was 4-ply wool, but it looks and feels pretty damn close! A multistripe spearpoint (complete with cufflinks) and a black brocade tie with a deco-ish stripe were enveloped by my overlapping lapels, while white bucks and a straw boater (opted out of the pith helmet that time) served as proper endcaps for this very 20s/30s ensemble. Truly a dandy “Sunday Best” sort of look and I loved wearing it. It definitely made me miss Dapper Day!
My pals also were immaculately dressed. Arthur and Marcelina were both in cream suits, the former wearing his linen herringbone suit from BM a few days before he was set to wear it in Fiji for a friend’s wedding (he prayed that he wouldn’t get any wine on it). Ivan doesn’t really need sartorial accouterments, but he still played into the evening and “dressed up” his typical western fare, wearing a poplin field shirt (instead of a denim chambray) with gabardine western slacks (he normally wears jeans). We certainly made for an interesting and anachronistic group compared to the rest of the attendees (who were all decidedly 20s-40s), but that was perfectly fine! If anything, this felt like a typical evening for us, just with a bit more intentional vintage flavoring. We sipped our French wine and discussed just what character we were that day. Perhaps we were ironically toasting our savings on October 23, 1929.
Unfortunately, the number of people at the Art Deco society of choice (Garçons de Café) proved to be too much for a Sunday evening (it appeared that they only had one bartender on deck that day), so after our singular bottle of wine (they said no to cocktails) we ended up moving a few blocks over to The Wolves, another vintage-themed bar that I’v actually been to a few times before. This place is notable for its revolving menu of challenging drinks; Thai chili and pandan whiskey proved too much for me. The dim lighting added to the Prohibition-era aesthetic (both in the bar and ourselves) and made for a truly entertaining way to end a Sunday.
Plot Talk with Marco
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Before I finish off with the big discussion topic, I do want to shout out a little event I did with Marco for Plot in Chinatown. Plot is a community space started by Marco’s friend Alice and is touted as a “living room for creative inquiry”. They’ve hosted a variety of talks and workshops, and now, Marco was going to host one on menswear, specifically by going through W. David Marx’s Ametora to explore Japan’s affinity (and improvement) for American style.
We spent the first half talking about the major players in this menswear period, from Kensuke Ishizu (of Van Jacket) and Toshiyuki Kuroso (of Take Ivy) to Kotaro Ozaki (Big John jeans) and Toshikiyo Hirata (Capital, and then Kapital); we also talked of course, about the importance of Take Ivy, the various style tribes (such as Sukaman and Hippie-zoku), and how the whole world now holds Japanese-Americana in such high regard. I was mainly there to share anecdotes about American Style and pivot the conversation to Personal Style, opening the discussion to how Marco and I personally view clothes and expression. He and I finished off the talk by diving into his brand Dwende, which has now matured since our pod together a few years ago. Like Japan, Marco was also drawn to American style, but now he’s able to distill those feelings with his own experience as a Filipino immigrant as well as his own hobbies in dance and motorcycling. It made for a nice cap to our conversation.
It was a great conversation! I mainly spoke about all the things I’ve covered on the blog thus far, particularly Cinematic Dressing and how it is quite similar to the way the Japanese have codified elements of American fashion. These were quite important to discuss, as they helped explain my own appreciation and affinity for American Style, even though my take is certainly more “dressy” and anachronistic than most people’s (especially Marco’s). After all, jackets and ties just “don’t make sense” to wear in the contemporary world—unless you like it! I also appreciated the questions our friends asked, who hilariously made up the entire audience. Gator asked for my thoughts on wear/distressing, pushing the room into a brief diatribe on patina, critiquing how having heavily worn garments is a source of pride—and how some use it as a shortcut to “authenticity”.
To echo our Ametora-focused talk, Marco wore pieces from Dwende. Again, the brand represents his own take on Americana through his hobbies and his storied appreciation for designer clothing (you should listen to our pod with Marco if you haven’t). The Kevlar denim suit is the epitome of that theme. For my own attire, I considered wearing a suit and tie to show a bit of that Golden Era charm; I even debated adding a beret or riding boots to give it a bit more oomph. However, such things felt a little too much, especially for my version of the Americana message. Instead, I went with a classic Apparel Arts look that was still Peak Ethan: grey slacks, purple socks, tassels, a brown plaid jacket, and a striped shirt with a patterned tie. It’s vintage American style that nods to ivy-trad and an Anglo root— perfect for our little talk.
Afterward, we caught up with a few friends at one of our favorite wine haunts, all while wearing our fun, individualized attire. Sometimes you just need a libation (and a milkshake, for good measure) after excitedly talking about clothes!
[Once you scroll down through the photo dump, be sure to tell me who you think was the most dressed up out of the group. I feel like you’ll probably be inclined to say “me,” but let me remind you that I am in separates while there is a dude in a suit (and dark tie) and a guy in full cowboy wear! What does being “dressy” even mean??]
My “Issues” with Styling— Or Rather, The Decision To Outsource Your Creative Journey
All this talk about life and menswear really emphasizes how closely the two are linked in my mind. They constantly inform each other, though not as overtly as most people think. For example, I don’t just pick activities to get dressed up; rather, the opposite—my outfits are often in service of any activity I do. It just so happens that things work out in my favor, though you could argue that menswear does factor into the decision-making, at least subconsciously. Perhaps my life is inherently absurd and menswear (or more specifically, sartorially) friendly!
This brings me to a topic we discussed on the podcast that, for the sake of transparency, was inspired by a discussion in the “Hot Takes” channel on the Weejawnz Discord. Spurred by this post praising celebs for bringing back the chore coat, I launched into a diatribe about why I had a problem with styling. Not with the profession per se, but more so with how people so gleefully want to effectively outsource the journey that comes with finding objects that speak to you.
I could explain my thoughts through music, but let me use a different example that I think might work a bit better: music, or more specifically, vinyl. Music, in general, is inherently personal. Songs we compile can be a fun little jam we dance to or a ballad that brings us to tears; they can be anthems to joyously belt to or angrily scream for some much-needed catharsis after a trying day. Expressing our love of music into a record collection converts the ephemeral into the physical. A facet of ourselves that we’ve found in the work of artists can now be proudly displayed on a wall, shelf, or crate. Our aural taste becomes decor, improving our mood when we glance at it, and even helps explain a bit of who we are to curious company. Not only that, but each record comes with a story behind its acquisition, adding to just how special, or at least interesting, the piece was for me.
Aside from a few treasured gifts, I have personally purchased each vinyl in my collection, ranging from a fun jazz record that takes its rhythm and tempo from 60s printing presses to various recordings of Ravel’s tribute to the storied Viennese tradition, “La Valse”. A few were specific buys, purchased because I knew exactly what I was looking for (John Williams’s Cello Concerto). Others were chance finds at a used record store (or, in most cases, a bookstore), like the aforementioned printing-press jazz or Latin-style arrangements of Fiddler on the Roof. And some were truly random picks from Goodwill or a flea market, chosen because they fit the genre I liked or, in the spirit of transparency, because they had a cool cover. You see, the picking is a part of the entire “hobby” of music itself.
In that way, each record in my collection is not just indicative of my personal taste but of the enjoyment I get from the process of acquisition. Yes, there is still a bit of outside influence, such as the record store employee who decided that a collection of “new horn works” recorded in 1978 was worth stocking in the store, but the ultimate decision to proudly add it is still mine. The personal story lies in how I decided to go into that record store that day to find that album; any other day, I could have missed it!
And so, displaying my vinyl or even just playing it during a hang or party means quite a bit to me. Music isn’t my personality, but hell, it’s a big part of it, and it does mean something to share it with whoever gets to hear it. My goal with vinyl was never to make an “impressive” collection, but simply to make a library of things I enjoy and to say a little bit about who I am. In that way, it doesn’t cross my mind whether my vinyls are considered niche, interesting, or even fun to listen to, even though it would be nice if someone found kinship with them.
All that to say, I cannot imagine outsourcing the process of creating my collection, especially if the aim were to build a library that hinges on being considered “cool” when you have company over. The whole paradigm is inherently foreign to me. Owning and displaying objects allows you to show off your personal taste and the journey you took to obtain them, whether big or small; that story can be. Forgoing that entirely and having someone else do it just makes the whole thing feel performative or, at the very least, dispassionate. Of course, the desire to be cool is indeed a bit dispassionate, as they aim for an external rather than internal effect. Again, Whimsy is the name of the game here, a prioritization of your own enjoyment.
While this may seem like it’s about authenticity (I mean, it kind of is), I guess my feelings stem more from the fact that I just can’t imagine people not wanting to have a direct hand in how they adorn their life. I just like getting as Tangible as possible, striving to make what I own feel a bit more personal and fun. The effort and challenges that come with expression are willfully self-imposed and all part of what makes this a holistic hobby.
It’s about accessing the Whimsy of life, finding all of the opportunities in life that we can plug and play with. For me, this obviously applies to menswear and vinyl, as well as books and art, all of which I’ve enjoyed not just compiling but also arranging in my apartment. The time and effort put into all of it only add to the delight I derive from my beloved things. In other words, Whimsy is a part of both the “acquisition” process and the act of “showing it off”. I don’t really care if people don’t like how it looks, whether it’s about the art itself or how it looks on the wall, or, in the case of menswear, on my person. I just want whatever it is to express my taste. Perhaps the real hobby (or pastime?) is to simply make time to exist with the things I enjoy.
Of course, not everyone is like me. People don’t always need to put their “all” into everything that they do. Things can be considered functional, and it’s okay for those functional things to have a little beauty or delight, even if they didn’t involve an introspective journey or a wild acquisition story.
After all, I don’t do everything myself. I enjoy going to restaurants or trying a cocktail invented by a bartender. I also hold friends and mutuals in high regard and often take their recommendations to heart (music, stores, books), especially when it’s not a genre I engage in too deeply—or when I just want something new, in the spirit of expanding my taste. Because at the end of the day, nothing, especially menswear, is that serious, even if it is personal. The more I think about it, the more I think styling, at least when done right, is more in that vein.
After my long vent on Weejawnz, I was heavily reminded that stylists, at least good ones, do not simply throw clothes at their subjects. Wayman+Micah, who work with Coleman Domingo, are great examples of this. The process can indeed be collaborative, with stylists steering their clients toward the right vocabulary for their desired expression and then actively sourcing the best items to bring this vision to life. If this is what styling is about, and from the interviews I’ve seen and the short conversations I’ve had, this actually sounds like a lot of what I’ve done with my friends.
As you know, I’ve certainly styled plenty of my pals. Or rather, I’ve helped them on their menswear journey. To be clear, this doesn’t involve just giving them a list of menswear staples (though I do recommend a brown plaid jacket, grey trousers, and loafers), but by having a conversation with them about their POV or “character” they want to look like and helping them find the right articulation for the attitude they want to project. My goal is to make sure that whatever they end up buying still stems from a personal connection rather than blindly following my suggestions, which, again, only come in when we’ve agreed on what they want. Of course, most of them just want to look nice with at least a soupçon of personality to help them feel good. Hardly any of them want to dress like me, be it in a specific style expression or in the Stand Out, context-independent mindset that ascribes my approach to menswear. Of course, if they decide to get into it more (as in, more than just buying a suit for a wedding or job interview), it’s only natural that their style becomes more distinct and their process more independent. I no longer have to be in the room to help them choose a pair of pants or a particular shirt. In fact, this is exactly the point, for me to ultimately become obsolete.
Obviously, that last point is what may always put me at odds with this whole styling thing. Even though I can concede that adorning your life doesn’t have to be so intensive and that the advice of stylists, paid or not, can be helpful, I still prefer for people to indeed get into it for themselves. I tend to enjoy seeing agency come to life and be expressed in the items a person chooses to display; outsourcing those decisions, particularly for clothes, still removes some of that agency in my mind. I guess I do just love hearing about why people like things and how they got them, even if it’s just about them walking into a store they liked and seeing something that caught their eye. Maybe that’s just the Whimsy talking again.
I will always have an issue with the profit motive behind professional styling, as stylists often have commercial partnerships with brands and designers, which may (or may not) affect what they put on their clients or the advice they give. None of them likely wants to be obsolete, and so retaining client dependency is the whole name of their game. Obviously, this will always be a thing when people just want to wear clothes in order to be seen as “cool” or to show that they have swag. Nothing’s inherently wrong with that, though it will just be an experience that I will be unfamiliar with.
I am forever cursed to put too much of myself into nearly everything that I own, with no real benefit to show for it outside of looking like an insufferable and obnoxious person. That being said, I’ll always do my best to combat a socially-optimized mindset, though it is indeed hard to get people to listen to a dude who wore riding boots just to lose to his girlfriend at minigolf.
Unfortunately, we’re just right back where we started, with nothing more than a bit more appreciation for styling. And for those of you who are curious (no one has ever asked), no, I am not available for hire! The real method is to simply be my friend and ask me, “What should I dress like?” I’ll be more than happy to dive in for free….or at least at the cost of a Negroni (or two).
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Always a pleasure,
Ethan
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a little bit of rest 