What's that jacket, Margiela?

First and foremost, why should you read my article? What qualifications do I possess, or experience, or specialized knowledge, or fucking anything distinguishing me from the masses? Nothing. That’s right, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I do brunch with Nick Wooster or pioneered the male legging. All I can say is I like shit that looks dope as fuck, after all, isn’t that what clothes are about?


Remember when fashion was cool? No you don’t, because you were likely born no later than the 90s. Don’t worry, neither do I. Gone are the days where fashion was about pressing forward, experimenting with aesthetics, where people romanticized and were truly passionate. I’m not saying there aren’t talented designers, or great pieces being produced. What I am saying is that fashion has been tainted by everything that has made these recent decades shittier than before. The focus has shifted, and we are the being exposed to fashion’s regression. I occasionally still watch Yohji Yamamoto interviews on YouTube to restore faith in the existence of good, passionate people working to pave a path within the shithead saturated industry. The problem is, the voices of the older generations are diminishing and soon they’ll be choked out by the steam from the oncoming hype-train.


Trends are normal. Trends are trendy. But with the birth of high speed broadband, comes the intolerable fuckwits who think they know everything. Just because there is a wealth of information on the web, doesn’t mean that you aren’t getting the same sifted through, contrived, bullshit that we all are subjected to when typing “Tips from GQ” through google. Remember the workwear trend? Everyone is now an expert. Shit, I’ll be the first to admit that I bought into the hype. 2 inch cuffs on my $400 raw Japanese denim to show my selvedge line to the world in hopes that someone would recognise it, pair it with some redwings, an ironheart tee and heritage parka, WOAH, I’m sure the quality is exceptional. Problem is, I didn’t know shit and neither do you, you know that apparently the quality is better, you know that you’ll be placed in workwear purgatory if you wash your pants within the first 6 months of wear, go fuck yourselves, seriously. Shit, you may like how it looks, but what you like most of all is the feeling of superiority rising in your chest as you smirk at the passers-by who’re wearing jeans that don’t constrict their crown jewels, don’t get the sickest wallet fades, and don’t require a daily spray of Febreeze to not smell like sweat soaked, soiled undergarments.


You know that song ‘Fashion Killa’ by ASAP Rocky? I fucking hate that song. He spends the entirety of the song naming brands he thinks are cool to name. I get it, you’re big on fashion. Shit, it might even be good that some lesser known brands are getting more exposure (look at what Kanye and Jay-Z did for - or did to - Margiela). Ann Demeulemester for one deserves some more recognition (despite the fact the poet herself has retired). Damir Doma’s fall/Winter collection of 2008 happens to be my favourite collection of all time (check it out). I’m just not sure celebrity, media generated hype is conducive to a brand. Brands like Givenchy and Saint Laurent Paris are a testament to this. What the fuck has Hedi Slimane done for SLP to garner such praise; to garner such revenue? I’ll tell you. His name and his former glory. I don’t dispute the impact he made in the past, no I can’t do better, but if you just LOOK (JUST FUCKING LOOK) at the recent collections, it either looks like a rehashing of what he did at Dior, or it looks like he strolled through the same thrift shop that Macklemore did and chose the smallest sizes of everything to fit his emaciated, heroin addicted models.


Riccardo Tisci over at Givenchy is actually still producing GOOD SHIT. But guess what? NO ONE IS FUCKING BUYING IT. What’s selling are the same $500 Rottweiler, Shark, UGLY AS FUCK printed tees that look like shit you could buy from K-mart in the 90’s. The message we as consumers are sending is, “I WILL BUY WHATEVER THE FUCK 50CENT IS WEARING IN THAT MUSIC VIDEO” (in reference to ‘We Up’ -50 Cent & Kendrick Lamar). It’s precisely the fucks wearing these tees that look at you like your poor might rub off on them, they look at you like, “IS THAT BAG EVEN DESIGNER YOU IMPOVERISHED FUCK?”


Just because someone knows what overlock stitching is, or what a Goodyear welt is, or that calf is thicker than kangaroo, doesn’t mean they’re an expert. Unless you’re making the clothes or actually work within the industry, you’re most likely a pretentious try-hard who would look like a moronic dipshit in the presence of anyone who knew their shit. Fuck hype-beasts, and fuck the people who hate on hype-beasts while buying into different hype. Now if you genuinely think that Rottweiler tee looks dope? Well fuck you too, you’re just a hype-beast that doesn’t know that you’re one cuz that shit don’t look good. You probably think that Comme Des Fuckdown beanie makes you look rad as fuck too don’t you?


I would like to take the time to share a special fuck you to #‎Menswear. Fuck your polka dot pocket squares, fuck your cream double breasted suit jackets paired with colourful shorts and patterned socks, Fuck your double monks, fuck Nick Wooster, fuck your Wooster inspired tattoos, fuck your Ray Ban Clubmasters with tortoise shell frames, fuck chambray (is that still a thing?), fuck your slick trendy haircuts, fuck your beard, FUCK PITTI UOMO (THE STENCH OF CIGARRETE SMOKE PERMEATES  THROUGH THE SCREEN OF MY LAPTOP WHENEVER I SEE PICS OF YOU DIPSHIT FUCKS), fuck your salmon chinos, fuck your Gucci Loafers, fuck your amateur photography, fuck your validation-seeking Instagram posts, fuck the word “DAPPER”, fuck your Nato watch straps, fuck your ‘time-pieces’ all together, fuck your attention whoring posing, fuck your bare ankles, fuck your casual bow-ties, fuck your summer scarves, fuck your pretend lifestyle, fuck you if you’ve actually attained the lifestyle, fuck ‘Classic’, fuck ‘timeless’. “I don’t pop molly, I rock Tom Ford.” Fuck you.


In conclusion: I just bought a Margiela bracelet. Swag.



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