I saw a pair of boots that looked familiar being kicked around the tumblrs. Turns out they’re a pair I’ve owned for over three years now. I posted about them a couple days after I purchased them, and I thought it would be fun to see how they’ve held up over three years of stomping through dirt, rain, mud, salt, slush, and snow. I think they look much better (though it might be time for a resoling soon).
10 January 2009
23 January 2012
Tim White | Welcome Chaos
Cedes | Toothpaste Squeezer | $295
This is so brilliant. And so expensive.
Tascam | iM2 Stereo Microphone | $80
This looks like a pretty awesome little accessory. The only issue I can imagine, though, is that if you’re shooting video in landscape (which you should be, because shooting video in portrait is incredibly obnoxious), the stereo capabilities would be more or less nullified.
Brooks Brothers | Cotton Rugby Stripe Scarf | $58
I think you know why I’m posting this.
Rapha | Leather Town Gloves | $170
Just a couple days after Gilt MANual posted an article on the merits of a nice pair of leather gloves, these beauties show up on Acquire. Needless to say, I’ve added these to my Amazon Wish List for Christmas 2011.
Emily Smith by Robert Harper
BMW | M5 Saloon
I’ll take one.
Filson | Cover Cloth Umbrella | $100
Buying a big, expensive walker umbrella is a highly credited play. Why’s that? Because, if you’re anything like me, you’re about a tenth as likely to lose it as you are a compact, collapsible umbrella.
The last time I purchased an umbrella was an incredible two years ago. It was this number from Brooks Brothers ($70), and it’s served me well. Prior to that, I would buy a cheap umbrella at CVS, use it once, and leave it sitting on the floor of a cab or hanging on the back of a barstool. If I did that every time it rained in Philadelphia, I would have spent two or three times as much by now.
BOTTOM LINE: Look fresh, get compliments, save money. Buy a well-made stick umbrella. Oh, and don’t go any larger than 50 inches in diameter. If you walk around the city with a 60 inch golf umbrella, you are an asshole.
I remember feeling like I was on the cutting edge of fashion when I showed up at the Supreme store on Fairfax Avenue in Los Angeles at 5 AM to stand in line for a fresh pair of Supreme x Nike SB Blazers (pictured above). That was four or five years ago. My, how times have changed. If you caught me wearing something emblazoned with a swoosh outside the gym today, I’d probably hang my head in embarrassment.
This should come as no surprise. I’m definitely not on the cutting edge with this post. Hell, I’m probably at least three years behind the curve. The shift toward sobriety in menswear can be directly traced to the economic collapse of 2008. When the economy goes south, people do (at least) two things: they project a more serious image to the world, and they get frugal. Furthermore, true frugality reflects a concern with decreased costs over time. These two factors reinforce each other, resulting in your average American male taking interest in $300 Allen Edmonds cap toes and $600 Alden boots.
The part in the previous paragraph about true frugality concerning costs over time is the most important. A pair of Allen Edmonds, properly cared for, will literally—and I know how to use the word literally—last you for the rest of your life. The same can’t be said for Nike Dunks, and even if it could… Does it matter how long something lasts if the trend it exploits comes and goes within a handful of years? You know the answer is no.
God willing, one of these days years we’ll emerge from this recession. And when that happens, young men will probably start throwing money around on sneakers again. That’s all well and good, but I’ll probably sit this next round out. Mostly because, well, I’ll be a stodgy old lawyer by then, but also because dropping foolish amounts of coin chasing fashion over style seems silly to me now. Looking back, as much as I love those Supreme Blazers, I sure wish I’d spent that money on a solid pair of monk straps instead.
I’m never going to stop wearing Converse All Stars when I’m lifting weights or vintage Rod Lavers during the summer. But my days of showing up at a bar or club feeling entitled because I spent however many hundreds of dollars on my sneakers are over. And I’m a little ashamed that they ever existed in the first place.
