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What is Styleforum Wearing: 8.21.2013

post #1 of 14
Thread Starter 
Katabatic

Original WAYWT post here



What this looks like: The Bay Area’s finest inner-city pheasant huntsman.


“Way I see it,” says the man in the flat cap, taking a seat on your desk, “if we get ‘em up’n runnin’, this place’ll be back to normal in no time. Folks’ll slow down, stay a while. Good for business, good for the community.”

“Look, I don’t know who you are,” you say, angrily yanking some crumpled papers out from underneath him, “but I already told you that the city planning office has no interest in turning the intercity roads into steam locomotive tracks. Nor would any sane person, for that matter.” The stress headache that has been hanging over you all morning has finally shown up, and the guy who has been standing in front of your desk for fifteen minutes babbling about trains is not helping matters. You’ve got deadlines, dammit, and no time for lunatics and flights of fancy.

You’re about to threaten him with a security escort when a whistle sounds from somewhere just outside your second-story window, piercing your ears and setting your head pounding.

“Well, that’s me,” he says, idly checking a pocket watch before tossing a card on your desk. “Now, I got to take my business to some other folks for the time being, but you jes’ gimme a holler when you get sick of all them automobiles and all that hustle and calm yourself down a mite.”

Hands over your ears, you watch open-mouthed as he jumps out of the window. It might just be the headache, but you could swear that you hear the rhythmic churning of steam-powered wheels fading into the distance.

Your desk phone rings. Your cell vibrates, sending the business card shivering across the plywood. Your email inbox shows three new requests for pointless meetings. You find yourself doodling steam engines. And you prop the card against your monitor.

The Goods:

Jacket: Isaia Napoli
Vest: Banana Republic
Denim: Taylor Stitch
Boots: Wolverine 1000 Mile

This is very different from the rest of this week's entries, and isn't a style we see much of in SW+D. What draws you to the clothes you wear?

I'm drawn to texture and layers (layering being a necessity in San Francisco - I can go from cold, foggy and windy when I leave home in the morning to sunny, warm and dry when I arrive at work).

I love tailored clothing, and I've been trying to up my game from the tech industry standard uniform, but wearing suits in a t-shirt environment is just too much out of place. So, I look for clothes that can look dressed up or dressed down, depending on your point of view. Hence unconstructed, unlined jackets in interesting, textured fabrics. But, I might just as soon wear an OCBD, knit tie, and a Levi's commuter jacket.



InHocSignio

Original WAYWT post here



What this looks like: “It's my manner, sir.” “Your manner?” “Yes. It looks insubordinate, but it isn't really.”


It’s hot. You slouch your way down the sidewalk, head hanging, heels dragging on the concrete. The city smells like garbage, and you are overheating in a pair of hiking shorts and a ratty tee. You’re on your way back to your apartment, and plan to lock yourself in a dark, air-conditioned room until September.

A man catches your eye as you shuffle past, leaning calmly on the side of a building while frantically waggling his fingers in the air. You stop and stare. His eyes are closed, and he’s smiling serenely. He doesn’t look crazy – at least, he’s well groomed –but he is making jazz hands at no one.

“What are you doing?” you ask, arms limp at your sides. Your brain and body are moving slowly, and now that you’ve stopped, it’s possible you won’t ever make it home. You contemplate a future as a puddle of human goo on the side of dirty street.

“Ah,” he says, eyes still closed, eyebrows waggling, “Chopin; etude number five in G flat major.” He drops his hands and looks at you. “Don’t mind me, I’m just practicing.”

You blink. “Practicing what?” you ask, “I don’t see a piano.”

“That’s because there isn’t one,” he says, looking at you like you’re an idiot. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not making music.”

This might be a simple outfit, but it's interesting and totally excellent. Did you have a look in mind when you put it together? How would you describe your usual tastes?

Firstly, I'm flattered by the props my fairly basic outfit got—but that's my style, a bit minimalist edging towards casual. Anyway, as to my process? Well, the shirt is just standard summer fare, a light-blue gingham by BoO. My shoes are one of Common Projects' beautiful creations from this past season; they're dark olive, so able to double for more formal fits, but I chose these particularly as I think their color jives well with the natural sole in the light of a summer afternoon. The pants, by Azrouel, are the selection I'm proudest of; they were an adventurous buy, but they're extremely lightweight and comfortable. Their subtle grey texture is interesting, but what I like most about them is the casualness the black sash waistband lends; here, I tried to aim so that that color contrast against the light colors of my palette would serve to highlight the derbies.

The Goods:

Shirt: Band of Outsiders
Pants: Yigal Azrouël
Shoes: Common Projects



TheWho13

Original WAYWT post here

IYFKFO7.png

What this looks like: Paris, France meets the Lewiston Roundup


“Bud Light Chelada? Seriously? Aren’t there clams in that?”

The man seated next to you smiles and slides you the bottle anyway, raises his own drink and nods to you.

“Sometimes it doesn’t really matter what you order,” he says, undoing a button on his denim shirt, “and Chelada’s nostalgic. Reminds me of all the things I regret. That, and pure black pepper.”

“That doesn’t really sound like nostalgia,” you say. “Anyway, sorry about earlier.”

“Not a problem,” he says, “That old thing won’t last much longer anyway. It’s got an awful lot of memories attached to it, though. You know, road trips, first dates, daring acts of stupidity – I’ll be sad to see it go. You own anything like that?”

You think for a minute, staring at his suede boots and worn-out jeans. Your apartment is full of clean, modern, minimal-assembly-required white furniture, your wardrobe a safe collection of gray suits and white shirts. Even your first car, the one you bought from your neighbor when you left for college and subsequently named “Mathilda,” has been replaced by an efficient, clean, and entirely unexciting econobox – now with a cracked bumper. When did the present become just another stepping stone to The Future?

“Not really,” you say, thinking of the morning’s meeting on profit projections and your ten-year plan, then tilting back the can and grimacing. It really does taste like clams. And black pepper. “I guess I don’t keep a lot of stuff around.”

“Well, let me buy another round,” he says, finishing his beer and exhaling contentedly, “I feel like reminiscing, and it sounds like you need something to reminisce about.”

The Goods:

Shirt: Levi’s Made & Crafted
Jeans: Uniqlo
Boots: Surface to Air
Bracelet: Alyssa Norton

Following hot on Caseyfud's before/after heels in last week's installment, you're another poster who has really come a long way in a short time. What's different? Are you planning things out these days, or just going with the flow?

Once, I loved #menswear. Then there was a brief yet intense phase where I thought “anti-fit” was my thing. This summer I drove through the West and everything I saw looked awesome. But I could never go all-out GQ, gothninja, or Western. I'm not 808s and Heartbreaks, a Nazgul, or a rodeo star. I like clothes, but I don't willfully entertain fantasies or philosophies about them. I want to synthesize the disparate shit that influences me without slipping into pastiche. A gay friend once told me: “Who, I sometimes don’t know if want to fuck another person, if I want to look like that person, or if I just think that person looks cool.” I think there’s a nice analogy for clothes in there.

Nothing above was purchased to be worn together, but as time goes on it’s like I’ve accidentally gotten better at filtering inspiration into something sensible. Lately I’m digging Guidi, Visvim, RRL, and Levi’s, which probably signals tremendous fiscal tragedy. I do plan more now, but the balancing act between the many things I love and the desire for a wardrobe that isn’t wholly batshit insane will always remain.



Hoodyear

Original WAYWT post here



What this looks like: An art historian you might actually want to talk to.


“Whoa, these potato wedges are something else,” says your friend. He looks at you, wide-eyed from behind black-framed glasses and swallows a bite of spiced, roasted tuber. “We gotta come back.”

“They just taste like potato wedges to me,” you say, focused on your chicken-fried steak and eggs. “Any other diner will probably have the same thing. Oops.” You dab your greasy napkin on your shirt, trying to sop up the cola you just spilled.

“Wrong,” says your friend. He raises his hand and signals to the pretty waitress, who appears a little more quickly than she did when you asked for a soda refill. You quickly stop dabbing and hide your napkin, sitting up a bit straighter.

Your friend rolls up the sleeves of his blazer and beams at her. “Can you please tell the chef that these potato wedges are to die for? There’s a burst of crystalline flavor, followed by a creamy, almost mashed center that mellows the sharpness of the spice. The juxtaposition is…impossible to describe.”

You roll your eyes at his characteristic intensity. His eyes are closed in rapture, and he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care when you kick him in the shin, embarrassed.

“Well, she’ll be very happy to hear that,” says the waitress, smiling. Shall I bring some more?”

“Please. Would you like to try one? Here,” he says, delicately offering her a potato with one hand while cupping the other beneath the fork. She pauses for a moment, and then tentatively leans forward with her mouth open. The table is silent. Her lips close on the potato, and she chews. Her eyes flicker, cheeks blushing softly, tongue darting out to rescue a trace of salt from the corner of her lip. You adjust your collar.

She swallows deliberately and locks eyes with your friend. They say nothing, but stare at each other across the table.

“Uh, can I have the check?” you ask.

The Goods:

Glasses: Salt
Jacket: Robert Geller
Shirt: Uniqlo
Jeans: Siki Im
Boots: Margiela

In this photo, you appear to be following the relatively popular SW+D guideline of "slim 'n slouchy." How do you go about choosing your pieces? Are there distinct criteria you look for?

It’s true, the influence of my ~7 months on SF is pretty evident in this fit, but I don’t know if I’m actively seeking a “slim 'n slouchy” aesthetic so much as I’m dressing for my body type and not sacrificing comfort. I like to think that if anything I dress practically. Beyond that, I’m particularly interested in texture, visual and tactile. How a garment looks and feels up close (read: really close) is usually what seals the deal for me. I like color too, but I definitely believe less is more. To me, a muted low-contrast palette usually has more depth and...

...wait for it...

...visual interest.
post #2 of 14
touchdown synthese
post #3 of 14
Quote:
inner-city pheasant huntsman

 

icon_gu_b_slayer[1].gif Love it. Inner-city pheasants are nasty critters - don't mess with 'em! They'll cut you over your button stance. 

post #4 of 14
To echo Casey's post in the previous iteration:
Quote:
Originally Posted by caseyfud View Post

I tried really hard not to sound like a dick.
post #5 of 14
dudee, don't tell me those were the S2A jeans you bleached patch[1].gif
post #6 of 14
S2A jeans? I bleached a pair of indigo Nudies, but I don't own a pair of S2A jeans...

Those are Uniqlo up there.
post #7 of 14
baldy[1].gif sorry, i am an idiot , got confused cause you were selling a pair of S2As that i thought were in that fit and were also the topic of your bleached jeans, anyway all back to business
post #8 of 14
No worries dude. satisfied.gif
post #9 of 14
I would buy a compilation book of these.
post #10 of 14
Synth, I just want to say that I love the essays under "What this looks like:". This wandering, everyman narrator who bumps into all sorts of colorful characters reminds me of the better parts of Augie March. But in a way it's also like how I experienced WAYWT for a while when I first joined, and still do to some extent. You come to this site and see people dressed in ways that are totally foreign, and it's like, "where the hell does this guy come from? What does he do with his life?" You don't know what kind of life they have, where they eat their lunch, what kind of toothpaste they use. You just get this image, this neat kind of gestalt package, and it's a character more than it's ever really a person.
Edited by A Fellow Linguist - 8/22/13 at 12:03pm
post #11 of 14
none of us are real but rather realizations of each others' desires alien.gif
Edited by zapatiste - 8/22/13 at 11:16am
post #12 of 14
^ applies to you more than anyone. Well, maybe SvB has you beat.
post #13 of 14
d d d double post
post #14 of 14
Quote:
Originally Posted by A Fellow Linguist View Post

^ applies to you more than anyone. Well, maybe SvB has you beat.

 

biggrin.gif

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