Friday, June 21, 2013
The arrival of summer is usually marked by the omnipresence of Levi's shorts and rubber thong sandals. Super ew to the latter. Or, according to Wikipedia "when the tilt of a planet's semi-axis, in either the northern or southern hemisphere, is most inclined toward the star (sun) that it orbits." Science versus society's inclination to strip of all heavy knits, I think we all know who won this aggressive competition.
As you may have already read the news earlier today, the folks across the pond have already celebrated this solstice by partying at Stonehenge. And I'm celebrating it by heading to the beach, but first I want to inform you of the perfect solstice shoe! Shoes to wear on a solstice. Okay, enough. These distressed Margiela beauties defy cleanliness in the name of distress and are, Stonehenge ready, duh. I would sport them with navy shorts and a printed sleeve button up for your pleasure.
You can create the collage yourself on Polyvore.
If you're sick of hearing birds chirp in the morning of the streetcar passing - which, by the way, is the bane of my existence - then you need to brighten your morning with a little political revolt! Via M.I.A., of course.
"'Cause it's not me and you, it's the fucking banks!!"
Thursday, June 20, 2013
You know that process where excess oil gets trapped in your pores and it results in a pimple. Or two Or 5. Carrie Bradshaw often concealed hers as a homage to Cindy Crawford's mole. I don't necessarily have the opportunity to create arbitrary moles based on where my pimples like to set up tent. And so, Tom Ford has resurfaced the discussion of make up, for men.
It hasn't completely been commercialized by wider society, but I think he's on to something and so am I. I mean, he's trying to normalize the fact that men do care about their grooming, without wanting to be scrutinized by society. It doesn't make you gay or reduces your masculinity. You can still eat pussy and put on some bronzer. But really, come on, I'm fucking poor and I'll be scouting Cover Girl concealer for under ten dollars at your local Shopper's. I know this because I use concealer to address those unbecoming pimples.
Finally, June weather is kicking in.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
There are all things quintessentially Canadian, in which, I am willing to share to validate the Canadian stereotype. We live in igloos all year round; yes, even in July when it can reach 38 degrees. (That's 100 F, for you ignorant Americans.) My father owns a farm where we cure our own bacon. Also, that maple syrup you took home as a souvenir, my dad owns that delicious shit too. Have you ever rolled your bacon in maple syrup? Fucking heaven in my pre-vegetarian days. And the fucking utmost quintessentially Canadian sartorial piece every Canuck owns, is perhaps a toque to keep your lil' nugget from harm.
We're all toque aficionados because we all knit our own toques and we've probably had sex with it on too. Every Canadian gets sexually aroused when one thrusts with a toque on into unison. AMIRIGHT?! We don't purchase them from Urban Outfitters or even order it online at ASOS. JK! JK! I don't fucking know how to even change my bike tire, let alone knit my own toque. The toque I'm donning in the above photo is from H&M and it is my WINTER toque.
That is correct. We have seasons.
There was dialogue earlier today with, let's call her Megan, about said toque. The functionality is essentially lost. You wouldn't wear sunglasses inside, would you? I don't know about you, but there would be sweat dripping down my face and down to my testicles. Isn't it strange to sunbathe and wear a toque? Like, don't you think its odd to wear your toque with a crop top? I'm not opposed to the idea of keeping your head warm during the summer. Hello, if newborn babies can pull it off, I'm sure it'll be age appropriate in your 20's too. Right. It could be diabolically genius if you can pull it off, but I don't think it should actually manifest itself. There are other forms of headwear, such as: fedoras, caps and even those funky ones you see at the Kentucky Derby.
We should all do goth ninja.
Monday, June 17, 2013
I have been a loyal consumer of Converse sneakers for at least a decade and that makes me as old as your grandfather, if not older. Thus, I have come to a stark conclusion that it's time to dig a deep hole and forget your past.
Because, you know, I think Superga is a prime choice in my transition into dressing more minimalist classic. People tell me I'm American sportswear, and that's not a bad label to be - for a lack of better term - labeled with. But, how do I tap into Parisian chic? I need to a healthy balance of Kenzo meets Celine meets Alexander Wang meets American Apparel.
It can last forever, but not like Sam and his girl..
Friday, June 14, 2013
I'm going to skip the whole excitement of the collaboration, that is, between Isabel Marant x H&M and just dive right in to pieces I want reproduced. Copy? Or at least a derivative of the real thing. And of course, Isabel Marant can only fully be peacocked in real street-style fashion. Take for example Leandra Medine donning American sportswear jersey to Coachella bound Rumi Neely in her Dicker boots, who, is actually not posing and just being natural, and shit.
As much as I loathe sneaker wedges, I know it will please devoted fans to manifest itself, but you can probably just go to Aldo or Candies if you want them RIGHT now.
Finally, can the whole Fall 2012 collection just be in my slim, yet alarmingly forceful arms to fend off fast-fashion urbanites in the event of said collaboration, already. I'm not sure what to expect in terms of the men's collection as Marant will be debuting this for her first time. She loves Americana, so maybe a double bar graph showcasing obesity rates emblazoned a cotton/silk blend jumper?
Thursday, June 13, 2013
I broke my Hoxton hymen and it kind of felt good.
I don't actually have time to write a fucking review. And if I were to write a review, it would just simply state: seizure lights, great crowd (minus the fucking douche bag in the white denim vest and his girlfriend being obnoxious to the point of a murder-suicide) and the great dialogue between the band making a visit to Canada's Wonderland. I have about ten minutes to make my lunch and maybe put some type of undergarment on in communal space. I'll conclude that we completed our night at Cold Tea where I got a sincere compliment on my outfit. Sort of. Nautical is always in, okay, you inebriated friend-forgetter.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
I got a lovely e-mail this weekend from the makers of the ubiquitous during pride Legalize Gay t-shirts, and what that has taught me about myself, and American Apparel. Exclusive coupons often send me to a tumultuous state of mind. Here is how I spent my weekend:
Friday: Exclusive Friends & Family online coupon sent to my e-mail - what should I buy?! Empty shopping cart. Oohh, a protest for Rob Ford to resign at Nathan Phillips Square tomorrow.
Saturday: A reminder e-mail about the aforementioned coupon! Was that necessary? Of course! Fucking Dov.. Do I need that tote, that shiny gold vintage-looking watch and perhaps those shorts in 4 other shades. Iterations aficionado here I come! I took a shit somewhere between pondering about that tote and that gold watch. Full shopping cart, but no complete transaction.
Sunday: Casually browsing (and still browsing because I still have 57 minutes left) and I have come to realization that I don't need to order a half-complete ensemble because some coupon wants to dictate when I should purchase made in America goods. Empty shopping cart. Good job Perry.
I didn't purchase anything because I don't need anything. I thought I needed so many great designs from American Apparel, but fuck, I still have clothes with tags in my closet. My online coupon is soon to expire and I have rendered it useless in the face of consumerism. Sorry Dov, I'm on to your bullshit. I still enjoy your leather pouches though. Send me one for free and I'll advertise it for you. Oh yes, critical Sunday is soon to be a happening weekend segment.
Photo: American Apparel