This shoot by Paul Wetherell for T Magazine, has remained at the back of my mind – and hard drive – for some time now.
It came out back in February, but I’m a firm believer in sleeping on things, not excluding the odd editorial. It’s so easy to get caught up in the moment and forget to break things down and really think about them. (Afterthought: perhaps that’s how the Birkenstock rose to fame this year.)
As I’m writing this it’s 9pm and a balmy 27 degrees outside, so I can abandon all thoughts of recreating the looks in the shoot, but for those of you (out of all 100 of you!) in the northern hemisphere, consider the following.
Untucked shirts, outerwear as everywhere-wear, and a chain (… that may or may not hit your chest when you’re banging on the dashboard).
Just don’t forget the cardinal rule: never mix the above items. Ever.
Recently I learned the value of having a great hairdresser, so I thought I’d introduce you to mine.
Elly Hanson is a talented young thing mainly when it comes to two things: Snapchat selfies, and hair. She’s a wunderkind – a visionhairy, if you will.
For as long as I’ve been working on shoots (the good ones, at least) Elly has been fixing up the models to fit whatever nonsensical brief I’m trying to make happen.
There are very few people in this world who can translate, “Scandinavian sex god emerging from the hot springs where he was handcrafted by tiny elves imported from Iceland,” into an actual hair look.
So last week when I was in desperate need of a haircut after leaving my last hairdresser, I scheduled an appointment with Elly.
Armed with nothing more than a hastily-created Pinterest board of hairstyles, I gave Elly my full trust, at one point suggesting she give me a bowl cut (Elly is quite fond of bowl cuts). True to form, Elly turned my nonsense jibber jabber into the best haircut I’ve had to date… that is, until she next lays her hands on my locks.
She might not be the queen of hair just yet (though in my eyes she already is) but Elly is most certainly the hair to the throne.
In fact, Queen Elly I does have a ring to it.
672 Bourke St, Surry Hills 2016
Gianluca Albonico shot by Jiès Cléodore and Thibault Dlm
Ask any stylist, blogger, or sartorially-adventurous man about variety in menswear and they’ll tell you—there isn’t any. It’s not that nobody is trying, but it’s so hard for designers like J.W. Anderson and the Sibling trio to sell as easily as grey suits in a menswear environment. Part of that lies within the gender archetypes and society’s backwards view of gender, but I’d rather leave that argument to a more intellectual writer.
The reality remains: it’s hard to find decent clothes for men, that possess a certain pizzazz—a point of differentiation from what every other man is wearing. So where else can one search?
The ladies’ section, of course.