This week’s most stylish intel from our brothers-in-arms at UrbanDaddy.
This week’s most stylish intel from our brothers-in-arms at UrbanDaddy.
A new weekly feature, starring stylish intel from our brothers-in-arms at UrbanDaddy. This week: a new custom shoe shop in NYC, a new menswear emporium/life skills school in Dallas, plus something called “voyeur showers” in Miami. Let’s get going, shall we…»
As most everyone is now aware, notoriously self-professed eternal bachelor George Clooney is getting hitched.
Word spread this weekend that the Cloones popped the question to Oxford-educated bombshell lawyer girlfriend Amal Alamuddin.
Could be a bit of mid-to-late awards-season lethargy. Or it could be these dudes got a memo we missed. Whatever the case, the notch lapel seems to be having a bit of a moment.
While the redheaded stepchild of formal wear has traditionally (thankfully) kept to the boardroom, we’ve noticed a few red carpet cameos as of late.
Our brothers-in-stylish-arms at UrbanDaddy have teamed up with world-renowned watchmaker TUDOR to create something magnificent:
Boiled down, the microsite is an all-encompassing gentleman’s guide to style—an ever-evolving treasure trove of invaluable suggestions on all matters sartorial and… not. For starters, there’s a 90 second History on Tweed, tips on finding the best barbershops in Los Angeles and a review of the greatest moments in peacoats. And there’s plenty more where that came from.
It’s a small world—and with hoteliers, restaurateurs and designers all traveling in the same circles, it was only a matter of time before they began collaborating.
Which is a good thing. Lately we’ve been noticing more and more well-appointed maître d’s, concierges and even pilots thanks to some of the more forward-thinking collaborations.
Scene: Brooks Brothers’ Madison Avenue flagship store; a beach made with imported sawdust; a beautifully made (if impossible to wear) Black Fleece lace blazer (yes, for men); penny-farthing critter pants; collaborative Kiel James Patrick bracelets; a white shawl-collar linen blazer; espadrilles and shorts made from an old scarf pattern; madras, madras everywhere.
Heard: “California Dreamin’”; that the set was inspired by Hemingway and Fitzgerald. Total beach bums, those guys.
Scene: Eyebeam in NYC; fashion editors sipping on Heineken and Cheerwine, Nick Wooster catwalking a cobalt jacket with zebra shorts, a few rubber duckies and lots of camo.
Heard: A very appropriate hip-hop remix of “Stayin’ Alive” keeping pace for the models, and at least two people realizing “That’s Pusha T!” during the final look.
Scene:Eyebeam in NYC; a murderers’ row of impeccable tailoring; handsome wristwear from IWC; sexy suede jackets in an array of I’ll-take-them-all colors.
Heard: “I want that.” Over and over again.
Scene: Industria Superstudio; streetwear enthusiasts bearing witness to the brand’s NYFW debut, which plays to the high-end sweat trend. Prints and colors are bold, fits relaxed, with a handful of contrasting tailored elements.
Heard: The soft pitter-patter of a bouncing medicine ball, metallic rasps of a bench press in motion and club kid beats courtesy of DJ Franco V.
Scene: The Stage at Lincoln Center; lots of cranberry and navy tones, more pleated trousers, no less than nine different plaids and one exceptional peak-lapel jacquard jacket.
Heard: The heady breakbeat stylings of Michna, and at least one person mumbling, “Is that the Jonas Brothers?” (It was.)
Scene: The DiMenna Center for Classical Music; three-piece short suits; one handsome silk Hawaiian shirt; the (triumphant?) return of pleated trousers.
Heard: Nick Waterhouse (pictured, right, with the designer). Like, in person, with his band. Yes, it was as fantastic as that sounds.
Scene: The Stage at Lincoln Center; models sporting futuristic activewear (think leather-esque black carbon rubberized shorts).
Heard: Melodic step-pose-and-repeats to the beat of DJ Coleman spinning Tame Impala’s “Elephant.”
Scene: Gramercy Park Hotel rooftop; fashion editors ogling Raleigh’s first denim jacket.
Heard: Chill tunes from DJ Brendan Fallis (who also did J.Crew’s presentation later on).
Continuing their week of revelry, last night the CFDA partied penthouse-style alongside Details for the launch of their second collaboration, the Weekender Collection.
Fashion folk took to the rooftop of the Mondrian SoHo, imbibing spirits from Japan’s Suntory whiskey distillery to celebrate the event. For their second project together (following last fall’s pocket square capsule), they tapped talent from 20 top menswear designers, asking each to reimagine the classic weekender duffel bag. And reimagine they did.
A hand-painted portrait of a WWII pinup girl donning Gilded Age’s bodice, leather handles and gold-pointed studs lining the straps of Simon Spurr’s, and a lesson in schizophrenic splatter painting by way of Yigal Azrouël, to name a few.
They’re each one of a kind, and will be up for grabs on eBay starting June 10 through 17.
Our esteemed colleagues over at Driven took a momentary break from the octane and gloss to delve into Bulgari’s new super-watch, the Octo. There’s some interesting backstory in there—like why they prefer a V to a U in their spelling—and you can get into some of the more nuanced watch-idiot-savant-ness if you mouse over the watch’s key points. It’s a neat trick and a nice way to navigate the workings of a timepiece (and kind of feels like taking the reins of CNN’s touch-map from John King… but sexier because it’s a beautiful watch—and Wolf Blitzer isn’t breathing down your neck). Give it a look, and don’t be surprised if you learn a thing or two about a manufacture caliber.
You only live once.
Fitch was a fighter pilot who survived being shot down. Then he went on to be a successful race car driver—after racing yachts. Fitch socialized with royals—he was kissed by Evita after he won the 1951 Grand Prix of Argentina, and the best line of his obituary might be this one:
He liked to tell the story of how he met the Duke of Windsor at one soiree: they were relieving themselves on a bush at the time. The duke became a friend.
Fitch also was a leader in automobile safety; he invented the impact-softening barrels ubiquitous on highway off-ramps to this day, credited with saving 17,000 lives. He was even tapped to design a Chevy sports car, which led to him being “Nadered” before the term had been invented—Ralph was a consumer advocate at the time and pushed Chevy to stop production. The way this philosopher/Ricky Bobby summed it all up: “I always needed to go fast.” Needless to say, it’s worth a read.
And worth reconsidering the notion of “live fast, die young.”
Let’s talk about Fashion Week. While we try to steer clear of the capital-F-ness of it all, there’s plenty of worthwhile menswear happening. So, to recap it all, we’ve scoured the usual boots-on-the-ground suspects to bring you a compendium of everything you need to know about what happened (and what you’ll be wearing in six months). Just the facts.
We’ve been seriously worried for a while now. For most of 2012, Ryan Gosling has been missing from red carpets, style blogs and, most troubling, our hearts.
Luckily, we can call off the APB we sent out, since it looks like Esquire has found him hiding out in Canada (our mistake for not alerting the Mounties). And thankfully, even after the hiatus, he hasn’t missed a beat. Here he is at the Toronto Film Festival, sporting a Gucci suit in an unexpected pattern and attempting the legendary invisi-tie. It’s a move that was perfected by Phil Collins (perhaps willed by an Invisible Touch) with success that may never be replicated. Esquire pans Ryan for the try, but let’s look at the bigger picture here: His Goslingness has returned.
Just in case, authorities are still on the lookout for his tie.
The big news over the weekend was that Mitt Romney finally chose a running mate, Paul Ryan… who showed up to his nomination announcement without a tie around his collar. (Though that woefully baggy jacket might have been an even greater offense.)
The mere sight of it on the podium had a Cajun raging and many under-qualified pundits talking fashion. It was all par for the course—obviously a ploy by the Grand Old Party to play up Ryan’s relative youth. But that shouldn’t have meant he needed to dress like a high school kid heading to his first semiformal dance. He’s 42 and a bit of a head-cracker in the House, which is why Romney went with him (the anti-Palin), so it’s somewhat confusing to see him reprising the aw-shucks role. We’re quite sure the man’s competent enough to tie a solid four-in-hand.
Which is always a good place to start when measuring any candidate’s competency.
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