Without any attention-desperate splash of color, pattern or off-season white, Justin Timberlake asserted his place as one of the best dressed men in show business at the 89th Academy Awards last night.
I grew up drinking milk, eating cheese and living for ice cream. They’re delicious! But as I grow older and learn more about dairy’s role in human nutrition and the way animals are treated so we can get a good chunk of feta, I’m dialing back.
I’m not a vegan, but I do unwittingly have vegan days – whole 24 hour periods where I will unintentionally not consume any animal products. After experimenting with vegetarianism and going full swing a few years ago, it just happens. It would probably be more accurate to describe me as “vegan-adjacent.”
While I haven’t dropped dairy altogether, I have cut back dramatically. After years of going without meat but occasionally enjoying fish, my thinking on the whole subject of animal consumption is evolving. Sticking with the things I was raised on is easy. It’s what I know. But as I keep thinking, learning and seeing more over time, dairy is growing harder for me to justify.
After ruining the faux fur hood trim on my beloved snorkel jacket, I needed a solution. I found one.
The way I present myself usually lends a bit of understandable confusion. There is often a presumption that a guy like me – a guy who likes tailored clothes and puts some care into his appearance – is on the luxury spectrum and prepared to talk about or even relate to matters of luxury, designer clothes and other expensive things. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
From its beginning, this blog has been about my pursuit of sartorial stealth and effective living. Comparatively speaking, the sartorial stuff is much easier and clearer to write about than the finer points of effective living, which encompasses pretty much everything outside the wardrobe.
As a middle-aged man returning home to an elderly mother who’s in the midst of a tumultuous stay in the hospital with a Whack a Mole set of medical issues, the pursuit of effective living presents a series of daunting and uncharted challenges. Put simply, it’s about showing up. Put more specifically, it’s about showing up in ways I’ve never had to show up before.
Filip Ambroziak had a problem. He was looking for tie bars with a specific design in mind, and he couldn’t find them, at least at his preferred price point. So he decided to have a collection of them made, effectively launching a small online shop offering variations on the original tie bars he had in mind.
In the aftermath of an astonishing and crushing week, I found some solace, wisdom and healing in two particular programs in digital media this week.
As one of the many Americans who feel crushed by vanishing work, I’m not so quick to point a finger at a villain in this story. The idea of making something “great again” has always felt like a reductive sentiment that conveys a distinctly backward motion. It boils down to this: record stores are never coming back. The sooner we accept that fact, the quicker we can get on with it. It’s more about accepting that nothing stays the same (whether we like it or not) and being open and willing to change, grow and progress.
I’ve written it before, I’ve done a podcast on it, and I’ll say it again: a smart wardrobe starts with good shoes. While there are some places where one could cut corners or “cheat” with less expensive shirts, ties, pants, and even suits, shoes are the one area where playing it cheap really doesn’t pay off in the long run.
And when I talk about shoes, I’m talking about real shoes from companies whose heritage, foundation and strength is shoes. This doesn’t include designer labels who grind out a new collection every season. If someone has the money to blow thousands annually on the new and fabulous, super. I’m not interested in that, and I don’t think most pragmatic and discerning men are, either. It’s about shoes that work now, will work next year and will continue to work for the rest of your life. Good shoes can be expensive, but they are worthy investments. This is about the long game. Take good care of them with regular conditioning and shining, heel and sole maintenance and cedar shoe trees between wearings, and they’ll last longer than a good car.
For the cooler months, I have a thing for chukka boots. They’re handsome, masculine, elegant and practical for just about any occasion, depending on the color and finish. Suede is obviously a more casual flavor, while polished leather in a dark shade with a matching (or closely matching) sole can also be worn in dressier suit and tie modes. I have a few pairs, and they’re my steady fall/winter go-to boots with suits or jeans.
I have a friend named Kelly who works as a wardrobe supervisor and dresser for Broadway shows. Over the years, she has invited me to be her plus-one date for several opening nights on the Great White Way, including the parties that immediately follow. Because of Kelly, I’ve had the privilege of attending the opening nights of The Seagull with Kristin Scott Thomas, A View from the Bridge with Liev Schreiber and Scarlett Johannson, Death of a Salesman with Philip Seymour Hoffman and An American in Paris.
Kelly’s current gig is the wardrobe supervisor for the new production of Les Liaisons Dangereuses with Liev Schreiber and Janet McTeer, and she invited me to attend what would be my last opening night as a New Yorker. As is our way, Kelly and I like to bring a sense of occasion to the affair, since we’re talking about an opening night in American theatre’s most prestigious form.