Sartorial Sunday #3
I have a confession to make. No, no, not the one about this not working out to be every Sunday. I have made peace with that. No, I have a confession to make about an addiction of mine. It's something that has been building up over time and I can no longer pretend that it doesn't have me in its clutches. I am completely and totally addicted to tab collar jackets. Phew, man, it feels good to get that out into the open and not to live with my dark secret anymore. And I'm sure some of you share this condition and we can be there to support one another in the struggle.
Okay, but for reals, tab collar jackets totally rock my fucking world. As you can see in the evidence below:
I think the first tab collar jacket I got is that Levi's denim jacket on the right near the leather jacket. I remember when I tried it on in the store it was like my life magically changed in an instant. In the neck area. I don't know what it is about a tab collar but it makes my eyes so happy to look at one. I now kind of hate jackets with regular collars on them. At least on me. They are fine on others but I gotta have the tab or I'll die or something. Or just like my jackets less. Except for one or two regular collar jackets that I adore. Anyways! The funny thing is, I kind of hate shirts with the same kind of style - not that any are around currently, thank jeebus, but you never know when they could come back in a horrible wave of retro late 80s/early 90s/Color Me Badd/Kenny G type fashion revivals. Because that was some seriously horrible shit, that whole collarless shirt craze. No, seriously, REMEMBER?
AAAAGHHH, MY EYES!!! IT BURNS!!! *shudders* So yeah, just say no to the collarless shirts and just say, yes, yes dear lord in heaven YES to the tab collar jacket. You can still neatly tuck a collared shirt beneath one and rock a fabulous look that will instantly make your life way more awesome in the neck region.
And now, dear readers, we move to this week's part of the post where I discuss a current fashion trend or style that I am not particularly fond of. I was reminded of a certain trend the other day when I was reading a free copy of the generally enjoyable Arthur magazine. They had a "fashion" spread which consisted of several photos of one of my most hated current trends:hipster bohemians. What is this trend, you may ask? Observe:
(Although it may pain you, click to see the larger version.)
Sigh. Where do I even begin? Once again, a group of 21-23 year olds (sorry, kids, I know it's not ALL of you) feel the need to mine the late 60s/early 70s for another "fresh" take on the fashions of that day. I don't know what it is about it that fills me with such violent dislike. Perhaps it's the hideous headbands? Or the fucktarded mustaches sported by the grease covered men of this particular subsection of society? Maybe it's just the fact that I am tired of spoiled little trust fund kids who want to look like filthy, dirty, scabies-riddled hippies when they could probably pay my rent with the loose change they have shoved in the bottom of their over-sized, slouchy, suede purses? Whatever it is, I abhor it. My eyes want to revolt at the sight of these horribly-clad denizens, attempting to leap from my skull and roll to safety.
And it's not like I have something completely against anything vintage or retro in fashion. I don't! But I am sick to death of these hipster retro COSTUMES where everyone looks like they fell out of some mold or another: Filthy 80s Hooker Mold! Unwashed Crab-Riddled 70s Gay Hustler Mold! Hideous Orthopedic Early 90s Grandma Mold! And the list goes on and on and on and when oh when will they stop??!?! Probably never. The Hipster epidemic seems to be akin to an incurable disease: eventually we'll just get used to it and forget about what a scourge it seemed when it first appeared. But maybe, just maybe, one day someone will come up with a cure. Until then, I will be on hand to mock them and clutch my pearls in distress and dismay at their painful, painful outfits. And hairdos. And faces.
Labels: sartorial sunday