Heads up, I'm going to ramble.
There's a saying about the Rolling Stones; their secret, or rather, the key to understanding them:
Mick wanted to be Keith, but everyone wanted to be Charlie.
I'm blunt. It's a tool. It can be read as being mean. That is not its intent. It is intended to be effective. Say an exact thing in as few syllables as possible, and you can cut someone to their core. I do it for two reasons; I either don't give a shit, or I do give a shit. I hope that comes across. But being blunt isn't effective if you're constantly running your mouth off. Then you're just a dick.
There are an infinite amount of details on your person right now. Collar, cuffs, lapels, stitching, buttons, zippers, fabrics, patterns, tie, shoes, laces, soles, socks, watch, etc. Factor in your haircut, your facial hair, your scent; we could go on for days here. Any detail, any single thing, has the potential to ruin your appearance. Don't even get me started on belt buckles, cuff links, pocket squares, fucking pleats, fucking epaulets... fucking "statement" laces.
It's said women dress for other women. It's also been said that Jackie O, their queen, suggests removing one accessory before leaving the house. Now, I'm a pretty hip dude, and I think they're all unique and individual; a bunch of fucking snowflakes, really. But let's say, for the sake of argument, that these statements have at least a grain of truth. Let's also assume that the person (sorry, don't know their sex) who said that women decide within a minute of meeting you whether or not they intend to sleep with you might have been on to something.
What happens when men dress for other men? We get GIANT watches, GIANT tie knots, monogrammed everything; it's a dick measuring contest. And for what? You hoping to take that guy home?
This is all very square and closed-minded (sex roles and politics and whatnot). If you're offended, I apologize. I'm trying to do some good here. I'm addressing a particular audience- straight men between 20 and 60. Basically almost every one of the 9,800+ motherfuckers registered on VSalon.
So, now that it's been established (5 paragraphs in) that I'm talking about a base-level motive for looking good, let's do an exercise. Pretend each of the details in paragraph 2 is a syllable. Look at what you're wearing. Are you yelling? Are you ranting and raving? Or are you the quiet, mysterious type? What are your clothes saying? Is this a good look? Is it effective? Are your clothes running off at the mouth?
Would the married men among us please go ask your wives if they initially were attracted to you because of how good you ran your mouth off? Don't worry, the rest of us will wait.
This has been a roundabout way of saying what I always seem to be saying. Worry about the fit, the quality of construction, how it pairs with whatever else you're wearing. Get their attention by being a silent killer. Fucking. Nail. Every. Detail. Find what works for you and keep doing that. Mens style is always about being classic. Why? Because shopping sucks. And if we have to shop, we'd rather do it for bikes and parts.
A stranger in an elevator in Louisville last weekend complimented me on my "GQ" look. I was in jeans, workboots, a button-up, and a peacoat. What he said was "GQ." But what he meant was "I don't know what the fuck you're doing, but keep doing it." His outfit, by the way, was screaming at anyone within earshot (eyesight?).
During Mick Jagger's tour behind his first solo record, Keith put a band together to keep himself occupied. Charlie played drums.
Late one night Mick and Keith found themselves in the same hotel bar. Mick rang up to Charlie's room and said "Is 'at my drummer up there? Somebody tell my drummer to come down here. I want to see him."
Charlie got up, shaved, put on a Saville Row suit, and headed downstairs, where he threw Mick through the plate glass window. The soft-spoken Watts said "Don't ever call me your fucking drummer. You're my fucking singer."
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