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The Pittilogues: Pitti Uomo 87, Day 3
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Day 3 is another slow day. It’s mobbed - Pitti, as we may have mentioned, is packed this year - and no matter what I do I seem to feel terrible. I meet Fok in the morning, after a pitiful attempt at eating breakfast, and we walk (well, scoot) our way to the Fortezza. I am in the lead, which means that we get lost. Only slightly lost, really. But we do have to rely on Fok’s phone to get us the last quarter mile. Fok’s talked about the “Pitti look” that he hates. Here’s the Pitti look that I hate: really tight (usually DB) jacket, peg-legged, drop crotch trousers or (yikes) denim, and derbies. I loathe it. But make no mistake, I am not as fly as these dudes. In fact, I am probably not fly at all. I am wearing the same shirt and sweater as yesterday. A gym sweater, to be more accurate. It’s warmer today, about 60, but these people are ******* nuts so, of course, the heat is on. Sunny, crowded, sweaty - yeah, it’s just a mess of a day. Jen and Fok seem to be cruising right along, but I’ve reached the usual Day 3 point at which I just feel tired and absolutely sick of fashion. I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but here’s the thing: I usually feel like a moron - if I were wearing what these people are wearing, I don't think I'd be able to function. It's an interesting thing to think about. I talk a lot about the importance of feeling comfortable, but it takes an effort - Bourdieu-like, perhaps - of social echolocation to figure out where on the continuum that comfort lies. I’ve decided, after looking in a mirror, that I can never wear black and white again. How come nobody told me I look like a *******? I spend most of the day observing people, rather than vendors - most of them are the same, year after year, which means that it’s a bit difficult to find something to be excited about if you’re not actively buying for a store. Casentino is everywhere this year - they are really pumping the stuff out, using it everywhere (I even saw one mixed-material double rider). I take a picture of an old dude with a beard, lighting a cigar. He keeps the flame going for me while I take the picture.
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