Thursday, November 28, 2013

uniformity


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

your not so friendly black friday dream closet


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

finally, i don't have to watch girls to answer my gay questions


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

dating anecdotes


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

temporary brick and mortar




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

move over karlie, cocks are shining


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

terminology: skull cap


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.

isabel marant x hm x resort


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

on fictitious collaborations


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

what to wear to a rob ford protest

Drunken Stupor


Did you miss the Rob Ford protest yesterday in light of his admission about smoking crack, where, said mayor was in a state of a drunken stupor? Please use the hashtag #inadrunkenstupor if you feel that you got caught handling your penis in public or if you ever got streaks. Really, streaks bro.

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.

Save Toronto.

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.

my mission is clear, and like cher, "i want to help"


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 ambiguous meaning of our erections


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

the new rules of branding in your 20's


 

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

do you like shoes?


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.