Monday, December 30, 2013
Have you figured out yet just how buyers choose items? No? I can guess for the both of us.
I'm sure most, if not all, commercial items are what arouses them most as those pieces are what's rolling them to da bank. Say that in some derivative M.I.A. voice because we don't fucking give a shit about capitalism. Except in the segments of getting buyers wet, of course.
An emblazoned shark! On a sweater! Made of wool! They're killing us (not really), we're killing them (duh!) and we can mark these near extinction historic moments on a Sibling sweater. It's machine washable and just cute as fuck.
(No sharks were harmed in the making of this sweater.)
Saturday, December 28, 2013
I have been M.I.A. because of you know, Christmas and drinking and eating and drinking. I have barely had time to go on my CBC app. JK. I did because sometimes you need solace from your family. Oh and there's also that imminent addiction to technology, like Tom Daley posting a god damn adorable Christmas photo every hour.
It appears every heterosexual is giving Daley everything rainbow related.
Because we gays love rainbows so fucking much!
And your grandparents I guess don't trust your judgment on choosing your sexuality at such a young age of 19. But! We'll get you a gay themed present anyway. This will probably sound dark, but society will be in a better position when older generations die along with their fucking old ideologies.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
I've been to a few weddings within my existence on this planet and I don't even own a suit. Repeat: I don't own a suit. There's enough emphasis there, that, you kind of want to throw me off a cliff and I will only allow it if I am securely harnessed, of course.
I've had many formal occasions where owning a suit was probably mandatory, but I have always decided to forgo the suit for pants and shirt combo. Occasions: communion, graduation (elementary, high school, college and university, quarter-life crisis), 16th birthday, job interviews (I prefer the, dress your personality type interviews) and of course, dentist appointments. You really need to let blood and saliva spill on some good textiles.
Then, as per usual, I was catching up on some much needed BOF news and an article on Thom Browne arose. It got me cogitating, where in the world is my fucking suit. Okay, I always knew there was a void in my wardrobe and I made a vow to myself back when I was in my early 20's that the first suit in my wardrobe had to be a made-to-measure suit. Is that a lot to ask for? When you charge a few Christmas presents, yes.
This is where Thom Browne plays a role in building my made-to-measure suit. Owning such craftsmanship would really signify a significant change in my life, career and how I wish to present myself to others. I associate owning a good suit to being in your mid- to late 20's. You know that you haven't fucked your life up, yet, and you can afford to purchase really expensive hand-welted footwear, occasionally. You're still not ready for that long-term commitment so you get a puppy instead, the partner will follow, maybe.
A well-fitted, well-crafted suit speaks highly of yourself. Owning a made-to-measure Thom Browne suit is just the icing on the cake and really just an ODE to being your authentic-self. Show dem ankles.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
I have this straying love for Beyonce because while I enjoy her music, I don't love her music. And then she shits all over the internet and Drunk In Love is on repeat while I read theories on feminism. Seriously, go read of women's suffrage, right now. Or Beyonce will steal your kittens.
Grimes, I remember you, it was the summer of 2012 and I just moved to Toronto to pursue a career in debauchery. So far, it's panning out quite nicely. You're my Canadian heroin that I can be weird to and we have exclusive co-ed slumber parties where all we talk about is our undying love for Jonathan Taylor Thomas (JTT!!).
Where do I even begin with the brilliance and greatness that is Lazaro Hernandez and Jack McCollough. They created the ultimate IT bag: the PS1. I want the PS1, but I also want to pay rent. I'm conflicted. They literally push the boundaries in terms of textiles and shapes and can really see how they have an eye for their craft. Don't get me started on my grade school crush with Hernandez.
So, I know you're probably asking, what is the commonality between these three creative artists. Well, it's Jay Z. I bet you did not see that coming because I sure didn't. Okay, I did, except for when it came to Grimes. Jay Z is Beyonce's sex partner in crime and is a feature in Drunk In Love. Jay Z did a collaboration with Proenza Schouler to produce an sub-par duffle sold exclusively at Barneys. And Grimes, purveyor of all things cute just signed with Roc Nation. Do that triangle thing with your hands. Rep.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
I have a denim jacket, but I want this denim jacket.
My current denim jacket by H&M looks identical to this one and like Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, you wouldn't be able to differentiate the two. I can, actually, differentiate the fraternal twins because Ashley has a freckle above her lip and Mary-Kate has a freckle on her right cheek. This is really just the argument I am positioning in how I really need this one as opposed to the one I already own.
The current wash of my denim jacket is a medium wash with slight whisking permeating the exterior. The Acne denim jacket is a light vintage wash. Light vintage wash! My buttons are bronze and while they're cute, they're so passe like that phased out Canadian penny. The Acne denim jacket has silver oh-my-fucking-god buttons and just propels its vintage not-vintage status. Other than what I have argued, - and valid arguments I have contested in the world of sartorial denim - they're still essentially the same denim jacket.
Still, though, I want this one.
Acne Jam Slim-Fit Washed-Denim Jacket via Mr Porter
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Shoes are essentially an extension of one's disposition. The athletic and active individuals are sporting Nike Free Run's, the lazy suburban's are moseying around in Crocs and the coasting hipsters don Blundstones and Docs.
An article in Fast Company about Allen Edmonds got me contemplating about the art of brand awareness and how the youth of today have enough disposable income to purchase goodyear welted shoes. Um, at 22 I was purchasing shoes from Aldo and other high street brands. Graangaard, your son has dapper shoes because you make a good enough salary to support him and his other bourgeois tastes. And, who are they networking with? The fucking devil?
I have to wonder, though, did the integrity of the company disappear somewhere between outsourcing some of their footwear and firing 8% of staff to gain profit?
Alright, enough business hoopla because who wants to talk about that? Not this urban hipster. I deeply value the heritage of the brand and I am more concerned with the higher end products rather than the outsourced pieces. If I am going Allen Edmond, I am going all the way to handmade in America.
The oxfords are well crafted and exquisitely designed giving you the look of, I make six figures and I want you to know it. They would pair it with a Tom Ford suit, because why the fuck not. Or, in my case, the urban hipster that makes a salary that is slightly lower on the spectrum and donning it with cuffed denim like the above photo.
When did the hipster paradigm shift from vintage to heritage?
Monday, December 16, 2013
If I have to walk through one more retail store playing Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You - I might just request a pair of scissors from a sales associate, then slit my wrists and have my blood drip down the aisles until I faint.
My Christmas spirit is pretty adorable right now.
I have compiled a list of songs that I think will save you from having to visit the emerge. Are you ready? Are you sure? Do you have your thrifted jumper on and eggnog libations in both hands? Superb, my dearest non-conformists of all things Vice and abstract thinkers - sway yourself back and forth, now.
1. She & Him - Baby It's Cold Outside
2. Rooney - Merry Xmas Everybody
3. Sufjan Stevens - Little Drummer Boy
4. The Raveonettes - The Christmas Song
5. Jimmy Eat World - Last Christmas
6. The XX - Last Christmas
7. Death Cab For Cutie - Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)
Bonus: Sufjan Stevens - Christmas Unicorn
Friday, December 13, 2013
It's Friday the 13th, which means only the weirdest of weird things will happen today. Jason saves us from the consumerist behaviour that is Christmas and Wal-Mart gets a union. In other news, GQ Germany decided to have heterosexual men reach first base with other heterosexual men in an effort to create some sort of LGBT discourse.
I don't get it.
Okay, I kind of get it. I get the effort. The concluding message is clear that homophobia still exists and that straight sexy Germans are allies. But at the end of the day, it's really just a photo that will end up as the wallpaper on my Mac that I could masturbate to.
Photo: GQ Germany
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
As the third born child of immigrant parents, I was genuinely concerned with how I spent my money. I grew up with hand-me-down toys and in hindsight, a window to my gayness was unlocked by playing with my older sister's Barbie. This Barbie, which I remember vividly, had the ability to change hair colour just by adding warm to luke-warm water to her hair. That colour was a cloudy blue.
Fuck, I hate gender controlled toys.
During my formative high school years and through college and university, I never, ever, once owned this simple contraption you would call: the lint roller. You know, I could have been a very punctual and studious-looking student. Instead, my mother would gleefully offer me a roll of tape because it really sufficiently suffices as a lint roller-cum-tool for putting up posters of TLC. Albeit, the process of gathering one's strength to conjure this contraption was not as simplistic as an actual lint roller. For one, the lint roller has a wand. A fucking wand that can ergonomically remove lint from the back of your jumper without a strain or assistance from your sibling.
A roll of tape, sans wand. Ergo, strenuous.
The lint roller, why do we buy it? We purchase said item because we want to appear presentable to the world, our peers and employers, that, you know, we can be put together and that we have enough disposable income to splurge on a four dollar tool that is essentially, tape. Takes a lot of work to not look like shit.
So really, is the lint roller elitist? Probably... not. But to my mother, I think so.
(Disclosure: I bought this one for $0.50 on sale. Otherwise, I would have not been compelled to buy it.)
I'm really saddened by this rather mediocre haul, which was accompanied by some rather bro-ey music. Way to stereotype yourself, brah. How can a woman talk for an hour about her Louboutins but we can't even intellectualize a Givenchy tee. You've elaborated to me what I can already articulate for myself. I want you to delve deeper.
What compelled you to purchase a commodity of high-quality? Was it conformity? Was it for style? How would you style it and how? How many lawns did you have to mow or how many milk cartons did yo have to deliver to purchase said commodity? I really, really want to know.
Right now, I just think you're a upper class teenager with too much disposable income because of the Hermes belts in your part 3 of 3 haul.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
My previous day dreaming years prior to moving to Toronto was to always live in one of those fancy, schamancy sky scraping condos hoping it would be located next to the phallic CN Tower. A simpleton I was and now I think they're just shit. An article posted recently in The New York Times discusses the pros and cons of walk-up apartments. Price tag: $3,450. I presently live in one and it's kitschy-as-fuck, sort of.
I'm going to blatantly state that, yes, I am that west end snob that restricts his zone of where he lives and travels, but in my defence, I cycle to the beaches when the temperature reaches twenty degrees. I did date someone living in the east end and I wouldn't mind a flat in Cabbagetown because of the character I hope that resides in each unit.
I have friends - I really do have friends - that live in high rise condos and walk-up apartments and being biased, I prefer the latter. Condos have that cookie-cutter, sterile, yuppie connotation that are just sub-par for my living standards. Albeit, they normally have en-suite laundry, security (can double as a partner), a gym and other amenities at your pleasure.
The story of walk-ups just have so much more character and history. Being able-bodied, walk-ups are up my alley. Really. I lived in Kensington for a year, where I had to walk through a dark alley infested with a few non-Ratatouille looking rats. In addition, there were raccoons and squirrels living in the walls that made this normally chipper adult into a fucking raging asshole. But the place was still cute! Oh, and I'm sure there were opportunities in the alley where I could have been brutally murdered and no one would have noticed. It was all part of the charm! I signed the lease anyway. It was literally a shitty looking shack from the exterior and once indoors: it was quaint. It was renovated with pot lights and I love pot lights.
That place was rather pricey and here I am on my second year tenure in Toronto living at Trinity Bellwoods. This kitschy-as-fuck apartment is peculiar and that is why I like it. There are these bright tacky tiles on the walls, the hardwood flooring is uneven (a little too uneven for this self-diagnosed OCD guy) and there are these random toys that my landlord has left for us encapsulated on the stove, which I did not put away because it was cute, I think. Wow, so much history, I know.
Really though, do you really want to exchange greetings from vermin to greetings from a doorman?
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Dustin Lance Black - writer, gay activists, heartbreaker - broke up with me via text not too long ago and news has been reported that he is now dating Tom Daley. That slender Olympic diver who was decorated in some medal. Yes, him.
Daley, eager to pursue, sent him a text that said "call me" with a fucking smiley face. Everyone responds to a smiley face emoji. Black subsequently responded a day later and broke up with me a few weeks after.
As you have probably guessed correctly, we never dated. However, Daley and Black reportedly are.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
I was worried for my mental state recently because my relationship to fashion was suffering.
J.W. Anderson saved me.
A Sunday afternoon lead me to a bookstore to gander at the books I want to buy, but never have the time to read. I always route my route to directly take me to the international fashion magazines. I've already purchased the quarterly magazine Dansk, Pop was just $22.50 too expensive and Another Man had Ezra Miller on the cover and I unapologetically put down Hunger. Sorry Rebel Wilson.
I first heard about J.W. Anderson when he collaborated with Topshop and It gal Alexa Chung donned his bat jumper on the streets of New York. After that, I kind of just unfortunately dismissed him. That jumper with the blue dot in the ad above compelled me to find that piece online and I realized that, that jumper is $700 on sale. I further delved deeper into his fall 2013 collection and noticed new proportions for men that I couldn't find elsewhere.
Peplums, more peplums, dresses, a complete look with just a pinstripe jacket.
Further delving into the mind that is Jonathan Williams Anderson, here, he discusses the future of menswear and where it should advance. He believes in modernity in menswear and I absolutely agree that menswear needs to take more risks with textiles, designs and with great importance: proportions.
He also clearly stated that fashion needs to have an opinion to be real. And fuck, do I have opinions.
Fashion, I love you again.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
On yesterday's reduced closet space.
I kind of wish that I didn't shower three consecutive days in a row because that would then make this outfit more authentic. I donned this outfit three days in a row only changing undergarments twice. You do the math and give me a scale from 1 to 10 - with 1 being vermin and 10 being the child of Kate Middleton - of how hygienic I really am.
Day 1: I wore it to the Beaver. I pranced and got inebriated to Solange and other 90's hit jams from Foxy Brown.
Day 2: I went to visit my parents in suburbia. They don't judge. They judge.
Day 3: The above photo is day three. A friend came over and we finished the rest of season one of Girls. If I have to watch Hannah and Marnie throw a toothbrush at each other one more time, I just might have to gouge my eyeballs.
I bought that jumper two (three?) years ago and have never, ever, washed it. I don't want to pay for dry cleaning. Do I really need to wash every garment I own? Fuck no. I'll dry clean it if there's a rancid stench or a ketchup stain.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
That's a good thing. I'm sure of it.
I am really into closets right now. Not like going back in the closet because that was so early 2000's and not like that Ikea shit you see in commercials come September. I am, like, really intensely and overzealous that I might sell my brother's TV in order to build my whimsical (and totally rugged) closet.
There's something thoughtful and pivotal in the concept of having a closet that is one metre in width and having only that. The shoe closet is a separate entity, but should still be carefully curated. I like the notion of less is more because each piece will have a story of thought. You decide why a piece is crucial, interchangeable, how much labour you had to invest in it, how it is representative of your authentic-self and if that Marc by Marc Jacobs backpack is worth it because rent is due in three days.
It really is a challenge to build a wardrobe that you can wear for a decade without looking passe. Of course, you have permission to build your wardrobe by season to update your classics. It allows for easy dressing because you are limited by pieces, but not by possibilities. At twenty-fucking-six, I have reduced my closet by half. Half that shit I didn't wear - and was never going to wear - because it was just sitting there and it made me think longer about what to wear daily. My fall go to pieces is really just a shirt, a jumper, and pants. I repeat this daily and it fucking looks good.
This post is really an ODE to fuck Black Friday.
Except, I really want that backpack and it's 30% off.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Today, I went into the Google image search engine to look for some photos for HBO's new gay TV series: Looking. There were plenty of photos of the trio along with HBO's Girls. I suppose that Looking is the west coast answer to Girls. It features three homosexual BFF's struggling like every other homosexual in their 20's. It's pretty refreshing that the topic of AIDS/HIV didn't come up because, you know, we have other issues like figuring out what to wear with a what appears to be a corduroy shearling jacket.
Girls taught me very, very raw valuable life lessons in which I can apply to my daily life. Hannah taught me that I can self-deprecate and be okay with it. Also, that there's a polite way to tell someone how nicely folded their turtleneck is. Marnie taught me to stop being a whiney bitch and not to break up with someone when they're still inside of you. Jessa kind of validates Freudian's penis envy, no? My dearest Shoshanna, what didn't I learn from that self-respecting woman.
Boys (I'm just going to go ahead and call it just that), I am hoping Boys teaches me how to properly slip on a condom and how much lube I should really apply. If San Francisco really should be on my travel list because right now it's not anywhere on that list. On how to avoid the gay cliche. What is the gay cliche? Teach me, guisee. Should I consider an open-relation or does not considering it make me prudish.
We gays are evidently picky and won't compromise and that is why we are all going to die alone.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
The world of online dating really would require a road bike as a necessary tool to weave through the many potential life partners. Like Shoshanna, I made an internet dating profile.
I'm here to share a story with you, in which, I feel that my neurosis was at its apex. How? Well, I was conversing with this man who appears to be kind, friendly and bald (but compensated by his credentials as a PhD student). We were exchanging sartorial stories (mostly on my end) and I informed him about this vow I would uphold upon moving to a city with a then crack-smoking mayor.
I declared to him that I would never, ever, wear sweatpants in public. I hold strongly to this position because I feel that we are fucking lazy in a sartorial sense compared to that of Milan, Paris or Barcelona. I didn't get a response after my statement and I didn't want to concede just to get a response. After a few hours of not getting a response I kind of felt like a shitty judgmental person. But then I realized, I am a shitty judgmental person. I have extremely good intentions to rid the world of sweat-wearers, though.
After a whole 24 hours of not getting a response, that is when the neurosis started to settle in. Shit gets serious when you feel rejected. I can now provide empathy to those ending long-term relationships. I was checking my inbox every other hour, then hourly and then to the seconds. This man, this sweatpants-donning man could have been the father of my children and I probably ruined what could have been a beautiful relationship with 2.5 kids and a home somewhere on Palmerston (between Bloor and College, of course).
Eventually, he responded because shitty judgmental people get a second chance.
Photo: T by Alexander Wang
Sunday, November 17, 2013
The Internets is full of wonderful commodities like Isabel Marant x H&M at double the price on eBay. My only reaction to charging that price is fuck you and I'll just purchase the non-collaborated pieces, instead. I hate you and Rob Ford today. Life is hard. On the topic of commodities at reasonable prices is, Frank & Oak. No, that is not the title of a movie about two homosexual dogs finding a bone to share. Funny, right. No? In my defence, I think it is.
Frank & Oak is a Canadian (Montreal) based online e-tailer selling reasonable priced clothing to help a generation of men live and dress well. The only caveat is that we have no where to wear it to because that fucking notion that a degree holds a career is saturated with false pretences. The positive: you'll have great interview clothes to get denied for because you lack vocational experience and you'll have clothes to go to brunch in. This Deer Isle Printed Shirt would go great with your morning mimosa. (Purchase it on your credit card. Don't worry about paying back OSAP.) Frank & Oak helps you dress your existential mid-20's sorrows.
I'm perpetually cautious about ordering products online because I need to feel a product and actually try the pieces. As a short person, trying things in person is crucial. What I have learned from the Internets is that Frank & Oak will soon be having a pop-up store, somewhere, on Queen St., presumably. I'm going to commit to a 90% yes on that pop-up on Queen St.
Alright, lets talk business, Ethan and Hicham -- I have questions for you and I would like them answered within two (maybe three) business days. Where and when will Frank & Oak open up the pop-up shop in Toronto?
Photos: Frank & Oak
Friday, November 15, 2013
There is kind of a plague happening right now and that plague consists of cocks. Other synonyms include: penis, burrito, dick, beaver basher, schlong, tool, wang, cum whistle and my personal favourite, VEIN. Cocks are having a moment and I think they're ready for primetime television. We should really get them on daytime soap operas like Days of Our Lives or All My Children or when Passions was airing. If not, a union -- someone's union -- is there to back them up.
My current blatant obsession right now is this heartwarming, cock loving blogger who blogs about penises. Critique My Dick Pic is truly a great blog if you want to know A. the difference between good and bad lighting B. where one should take a dick pic and C. how to love your penis better. We all come in different shapes and sizes; some of us are showers and some of us are growers and some of us curve to the left. And when you're on top, you curve to the right.
It's friday, go on, mosey the dick pics and find some inspiration and feel the looove. I know that when you're done browsing, you'll be ready to take a great dick pic of your own.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
I was conversing with a acquaintance last week about our anatomy and naming them appropriately along with their functions. I have a degree that can dissect the stupidity of our mayor and something Stephen Harper doesn't want to commit. Remember that quote? Thinking about cutting funds to inner city kids? You're committing sociology. I really just wanted to tell you that I know nothing about science (unless it's social!) and that my dearest acquaintance, didn't know where her hymen was (is?). Terminology, you fucking bastard.
In the hours between late-morning and early afternoon today, I wandered into a department store to browse the new selection of Opening Ceremony. There it was, a two-tone peacoat in my size and I wasn't in the market for one until now. The associate was very nice and little did he know, I was never going to purchase the item -- I just wanted a moment of bliss with the aforementioned outerwear.
We subsequently went on to talk about skull caps. I had no clue what a skull cap was, just like my acquaintance who didn't know what her hymen was. I felt impotent by my lack of accoutrement terminology. Oh, what is it? Well, according to the associate, let's call him Kevin, said "it rests just below the ear and fits in a way that a swimming cap should fit." Again, a somewhat fabricated dialogue.
This one above is by J. Crew at Mr Porter. Made of cashmere and is about the price of your average phone bill without all the fancy features.
Go ahead, ask me what a skull cap is and I'l give you the definition of a hymen.
While many folks are waiting outside in the cold at select H&M stores for the coveted collaboration with Isabel Marant, I am comfortably indoors creating collages. I am envisioning Milla, Devon, Alek and Clement laying comfortably somewhere in the Maldives, listening to M.I.A.'s new album, drinking some form of alcoholic concoction garnished with a fancy pint sized umbrella and perspiring in a wool peacoat.
Side note: like Rumi Neely, I too, will be checking out the kid's collection.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
I think that I have browsed through enough SSENSE's stock photos that I can officially (unofficially) become one of their models. Look at how my stagnant and lifeless arms look relative to the ones of this handsome model with immaculately coifed hair.
Okay, today is not about the art of arms, but rather a really nifty fictitious collaboration with COS. You read that right. This is not a real collaboration, but really a real collaboration in the world of Pacific Row, yah know. COS has created quite a fucking shit storm because 1. they're coming to the US of A 1a. they've already come to the US at OC with a pop-up shop 2. they're just fucking cool, man. And so, I thought I would approach this idea of a false collaboration. Sounds like a lawsuit in the making and perhaps a feature film in the works.
My jaunt to Europe this summer allowed me to pick up a few pieces and so begins this really amazing idea. I feel obliged to myself in light of all this press release in regards to COS coming stateside that, why not, model the pieces that I own. How fucking original.
I was worried for a very short moment because this shirt fits very boxy when appropriately worn (see first photo). I did the unorthodox thing of wearing my shirt backwards and ta-dah. Fits superbly, style accordingly. Cuffed sleeves, check. Tucked in front, check. Leather on the back, check.
I am selling this coat because I purchased it at a time when American Apparel was doing hybrid sizes. This one is a xxs/xs and while it does fit to an extent, I would one day like to wear a jumper without having sweaty pits. So please, purchase this one so I can purchase a new one to accommodate layering.
COS tee, H&M Mauritz Collection toque, Anglo American glasses, American Apparel coat, Topman pants, Aldo shoes
I like to call this photo a sexual innuendo, but not really. Kind of like this fictitious collaboration, but not really. Holy bananas, the Bangerz album is undeniably amazing. You know what else is super fun: buying albums. I go straight to the Thank You's purposely looking for my name.
Layering of the accoutrements appropriately and placing Miley Cyrus in a comfortable enough position that she can leave when she feels like it. I Adore You.
So, did you pick up all the pieces for the Rob Ford protest today at noon?
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Fear not, because on November 13, there will be another protest for Ford to resign at Nathan Phillips Square. Grab a latte, maybe visit Topman for a break and wave those handmade posters diligently.
Rob Ford out.
I want a Uniqlo flagship store on the immediate.
I have curated some pieces I think is appropriate to wear to a Rob Ford protest. A select few of the pieces are symbolic where Rob Ford has failed us miserably, others, are just beautiful aesthetically. The beige jumper: a manifestation of crack. Say crack again. Crack. The red backpack is of his recent rage blackout recorded from the computer. The blue pants evoke his inebriated state at The Taste of Danforth where he paraded like a buffoon. The yellow toque is for the removal of the Jarvis bike lanes that left me and many other Torontonians devastated. The socks are for his inability to attend Pride festivities so he can gander at the beauty of Muskoka.
Everything else is just sitting pretty.
Reddit, I've only known you notoriously from my same-sex friends and while I've never visited you, I feel like we've become close enough now that we can swap saliva. I also only hear about you through my other sources such as Huffington Post or Thought Catalog. Today in the world of Reddit, their relationship to men is: fashion. Not fashuun because the men of Reddit aren't ready for leopard print or leggings showcasing their well endowed genitals .
It appears that men are still clueless and not reading enough Nylon Magazine to understand the simplicity of how to properly don a denim jacket. Ask a fucking Canadian and we'll give you infinite options. You can wear it with khakis and a white shirt, more denim of different shades and textures and if you're feeling misogynistic: your lady friend you have sex with, but don't share that exclusive title.
What they want is advice based on anonymity only found in an online forum. It's almost like buying condoms. That's why we go to the health clinic and load 'em in our back pockets. They don't want to mosey around in retail stores because asking for styling advice is such a perverse task. No. We don't give a shit. We want to help you not buy baggy cargo pants and sometimes, oversized is something you can pull off.
What I am proposing now is that I offer you style advice. Not sure what scarf to wear with your new toggle coat? Easy. Do you need help finding the right backpack that won't make you look pubescent? I can do that too. I can probably help you choose the right lube for the condoms you were rightfully allowed to take from the clinic. Maybe.
Contacts on the right.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
The men of Reddit — with the majority of them being Americans — were asked to reveal one annoying fallacy so that we can acknowledge it and maybe, set us free to the cavemen we once were. The folks at Thought Catalog narrowed it down to 48 users and I will analyze it for you by curating what I think sums us up as men.
Our penis and scrotum are not to be kicked, tossed, rolled and put in the dryer. We have sperm in there and one day would like to be the father of your child. So please, take care of them like I do. Shrinkage, it's a thing that happens so we can fit it into our pants because we hate having erections out in public. Albeit, we have probably thought of some clever ways to adjust our dicks as stealthy as possible. We don't want erections at every hour, on the hour and because I have erection, it does not mean I want to fuck every penetrable object within two feet. Oh, and that boner in the middle of the night is more of a nuisance.
Sometimes, we just don't give a shit. (Paraphrased from rudeboyrasta420.)
Feelings, what are they and how did we lose contact with them? Evidently, we have feelings too. Those damn corporations are finally giving them back to us so we can purchase the many products to accommodate said feelings. User Livers says "we want to feel really beautiful too." See that, we would like an even exchange of feelings. Got it, okay. Body image, it's concerning and mentally damaging. We experience anorexia and bulimia too; we just can't talk about it.
We like our solitary state. Just leave us the fuck alone, sometimes.
My personal favourite, we like the new Miley Cyrus album said the writer of this post. I may be a small sample, but I feel that is representative enough of the larger male population's views.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
I vowed to myself this autumn that I would participate in the convoluted world of "investing." That one piece, that one garment, that you ever so saved from your menial job to own something of apex quality in hoping to be photographed by Jak and Jil's Tommy Ton or Street Peeper's Phil Oh.
I plan to dabble in the arts of Scandinavian fashion and plan to secure a piece from Acne Studios. What I have observed, and quite frankly, been bombarded with is this billboard sized branded sweatshirt. I know, I know, I've read all those dumb ass articles about dressing in your 20's and losing the logos. Those articles were targeted towards suburban men who don't know difference between cotton and pony hair and damn it, I can differentiate and I want my Acne Studios sweatshirt - a la logo.
I won't be securing this piece in my shopping cart because I am poor and therefore I have to choose more diligently. I am hoping to put this delight that is half my rent on layaway. Do people still do layaway?
Friday, November 1, 2013
Should that even be a question? Of course, you, me, that person shopping for Greek yogurt all love shoes. But only women love yogurt, we bros, have brogurt. Now that we've discussed gendered dairy products that could give us the rectum vibes, I bring you back to the friends down below: shoes.
My delightful impromptu excursion to Europe this summer lead me to this dapper shoe boutique called Meermin Mallorca stocking handmade goodyear (some hand welted) shoes. They've won me over as a consumer because of their affordable prices and their choices of hide. That's right, cow skin. The folks at Meermin Mallorca are having a trunk show. Repeat, a trunk show, state side. Shoe aficionados, fly Porter.
From November 14-16, the Spanish brand will be having a trunk show at 481 Broadway, New York City. That's three days of trying on shoes, finding the right pair, or 2 like these or these and then.. what else do they do at a trunk show?
I picked up these Bluchers back in July looking like a raggedy tourist because, Madrid, was fucking unbearably hot.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
I'm really concerned for that window because it appears to be watered down windex and that ain't going to result in a streak free shine. Please, please us lint free paper towels or at least a t-shirt by T by Alexander Wang.
GIF: Man Repeller
I assumed this legging trend was dying, along with sport. Zara thinks otherwise. Not just for ladies of Canadiana lazy and students everywhere, but for men too. What body-con dresses are to women, leggings are to men. The once ubiquitous body-con dress was donned by red carpet ladies and club girls showcasing their slim bodies. The second skin for men will only do the same, but aren't we, like, self-conscious of how we neglect our legs and thus resulting in skinny-as-fuck legs that we are afraid to display to the world.
Who's purchasing these leggings and how do you feel about your gams? Are you doing enough squats and are you working on your calf muscles? I personally love skinny legs and that whole status quo stuff is bullshit. But really, reduce the amount you work on your upper body and pay attention down below. Do some horizontal running. A good muscular thigh is quite arousing. You might have to pass on the leggings, but these houndstooth trousers could be a suitable option.
Winter is coming.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
High street fashion chain Topshop has collaborated with Kate Bosworth on a capsule collection with a accompanying dull unauthentic video. You don't scream like that in real life Kate, you just don't when you saunter in Isabel Marant at Coachella.
The collection is pretty tame with what feels like a derivative of Balmain. You have denim with zippers and a lot of patent that will look cheap as shit on some Americans. The most puzzling piece from the collection is this expensive ass shearling coat at £595. The conversion to Canadian is $1100 and apparently already sold out on The Bay website. I'm always skeptical when a garment is sold out. My theory is that they only ordered 2-3 pieces and the attachment of sold out makes it sound exclusive. Net-A-Porter does this aplenty.
Anyway, if you do have $1100 laying around, this coat here is for sure to arouse your loins.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Something like this happened on July 13..
"Who's opening for Solange?" - Me
"I don't know." - Friend
"She's angsty. I like it." - Me
The above dialogue was somewhat fabricated, but the facts remain that Kelela was dope and Solange was a fucking goddess. I didn't get a chance to serenade my ears with Kelela and Google her until a recent article about rising said artist on Pitchfork. Two things we have in common: 1. we're both second-generation bad asses (albeit, she's south and I'm north) and 2. we express ourselves through creativity when it feels right. Kind of like Alaia, but I'm not Alaia.
On repetition is Cut 4 Me, a song that makes me vortex back to the 90's. And that's a good thing.
Who watched Crazy Sexy Cool: The TLC Story?
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Were you aware of Forbes list of the highest paid male models? Yes, of course. I should have never doubted fashion fiends. Then you know that Sean O'Pry ranked number one and raked in over a million dollars. That is roughly, I don't know, 5% of what Gisele Bundchen earned. Sean O'Pry is straight and one day could be my boyfriend, common-law, husband, what have you.
This would all be true, if he were fucking gay and actually attracted to the same-sex. I'm back to reality and paying high-rent for shitty apartments. I read an article on Huffington Post's Gay Voices about Dan Heching, a gay man, asking a straight man out on a date. Why do we insist on conquering what we can't have? He likes to eat pussy and you like to suck dick. Done.
The two eventually agreed to meet, have dinner and discuss work. The straight man talked about his girlfriend and then Heching suddenly felt a flight sensation, but stayed to endure the dumbness that inevitably followed. The article goes on and on and the topic of homophobia even arises. I don't even give a shit about the date anymore. Okay, fuck labelling theory and I like to think that sexuality can be fluid. However, the gays I know dislike bisexual people, but straight men are a given a pass.
What were you expecting? That he somehow would wake up one day and realize that he wants to rim your ass? Fun, right? Straight guys are straight. We should respect their sexuality as they should respect ours. How would you feel if a woman took you out on a date and politely asked you be straight so you can raise her children? Can you feel your authentic self wanting to be released from God's hands yet?
Anyway, I'm going to watch some gay-for-pay porn. This is probably where it all derived from.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Central Saint Martins has graduated many notable alumni's including: M.I.A., Ricardo Tisci, Christopher Kane, Sarah Burton along with Lee McQueen, etc. One thing they all have in common is that they have all curated some form of performance art. It could be putting on a concert to showing a collection on the runway. Clayton Pettet, a second-year Central Saint Martins student, will, inevitably, have a dick up his ass in the name of performance art.
If you wish to discuss losing your virginity, save it. This is not about you, this is about Pettet and his justification of sex in front of his lads. The idea is riveting to the point of banal. The process is probably excruciatingly awful. Gay sex is not easy. It is sometimes a shitty (I had to) position that we only have one penetrable hole: the anus, which leads to the rectum, which could leads to finding your g-spot, also known as the prostate. You have to have a good amount of fibre throughout the day, a good shit, maybe a shower and if all else fails, the satisfying douche is your saviour and you must bow down to it.
Like, I'm sure the process prior to de-virginizing Pettet is going to be a performance art of itself. You have to relax, get the lube out (do you think he'll display his lube in a gold-plated chalice?) and finally, you stick it in. Gently.
Here's the short: it's just sex and he wants you to converse, question and ask why we value our virginity.
This could be beautiful. This could be awkward. We know he's a bottom. This is really just a horny 19 year old that needs something girth-eee and lets call it a day.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
I can't differentiate the difference between dubstep and house and sometimes editors can't differentiate between Topshop and Carven. Show me the price tag. I've had many times, my dearest of peers, teach me the art of music I don't understand. Like a parent listening to their child's music, it's all noise.
I had another failed attempt at this music genre all thanks to the team at SSENSE for introducing this lanky Canadian from the east coast. Look at that thigh gap. Swoon. Sure, we can discuss his talent of Dj-ing, producing and boredom selfies, but the allure lies in the coolness of being uncool, which, makes him undeniably Seth Cohen cool.
Ryan, I'm sorry I don't understand your music. However, a loaded question about choosing Brandy or Monica lead you win me over. Answer: Brandy. Why? Mo to the, e to the, Moesha.
The relevance of this post is similar to that of Carrie Bradshaw writing about socks.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
My western European trip this summer included moseying around with no plans because that's what a good traveler does. Albeit, I made a slight scheme to search for the nearest COS. I found & Other Stories in Barcelona and I read on Google Maps that COS was not too much of a distance away. I left Barcelona without purchasing anything from the high street shop of style over fashion.
Think cashmere, wool, leather, clean lines and at a price point that you'll want to "invest" in.
My next stop was Madrid and Calle de Claudio Coello was where I was headed. I walked up the street full of shops with Louboutin, Miu Miu and Sandro and much more your wallet can't afford. I was filled with glee when I found COS and proceeded to walk my tourist ass in there all sweaty and unapproachable. I picked up a few "investment" pieces - on sale.
I enjoyed the exclusivity, the approach to a lifestyle of simplicity and almost elitist and the quality of each garment I purchased. I'm speechless that COS will be opening its first store in Manhattan, but I think part of the marketing was to set up a one month pop-up shop in my favourite shop: Opening Ceremony. Think monocratic greys, a plethora of blacks to attend many funerals and a few accoutrements just to get you past fall. You can see the Melange Wool Blazer in action on Mike at Cup of Couple.
Um, Opening Ceremony, COS is having a mid-season sale.