When I’m watchin’ my T.V.
And that man comes on to tell me
How white my shirts can be
But he can’t be a man ’cause he doesn’t smoke
The same cigarettes as me
–The Rolling Stones
(FYI, this post was written while watching the NBA draft, so it is especially sloppy. I do not, however, have a good excuse for the picture of Elie after the jump.)
Fashion is hard. No one knows that better than I. Currently, I have two suits at my disposal. Two. One’s blue and stretches at the seams when I put it on and the other is brown and it billows out around me at the slightest provocation, looking for all the world like a suit my older brother gave me that I just need to grow into. Brown and blue. I try my best to religiously switch back-and-forth, but most weeks are taken up by only one of the suits. This week has been brown in case you were wondering. I used to rock a charcoal number, but that thing was so big, I appeared to be doing a very sad David Byrne impersonation.
If you’re wondering why my patented “Who gives a f&*%?” personal anecdote this week is dedicated to couture, it’s because we are on the cusp of a revolution. Not since Kriss Kross wore their Starter jackets backwards (R.I.P. the one who died) has a fashion statement arrived with such force and absurdity. And not since Mike Tyson made everyone run out and get face tattoos has a menacing athlete changed the aesthetic game so boldly. This week, Aaron Hernandez got arrested for murder. Miranda means he didn’t have to say anything. It was his right to remain silent, for christ’s sake. Something something something…FASHION STATEMENT!!!
Let’s talk white shirts worn just so…