News flash: it’s November already. But let’s not forget October. And since it may have felt like the month just flew by in a plaid and tweed and tuxedoed Halloween-y blur, we’d like to take a moment to remember some of the more handsome moments we shared. So we’re firing up the Kempt DeLorean and taking a quick drive down recent-memory lane in the latest edition of:
It will be November by week’s end and that means one thing: a new crop of menswear magazines has just hit the shelves. And this month brings healthy doses of tweed, marled sweaters and general autumnal-ness. Not to mention some long-form pontification on the upcoming elections (from which we’ll spare you) and Mila Kunis in some very formfitting leather pants.
Lawrence Berra was nicknamed “Yogi” by Bobby Hofman, who thought Berra resembled a Hindu yogi—solemnly seated with arms and legs crossed—after losing a game.
When Kansas City Athletics owner Charlie Finley saw Jim Hunter pitch for the first time in 1965, he knew he’d signed a legend. The only problem, according to Finley, was the name—“Jim Hunter” didn’t sell tickets. The next morning, Finley called Hunter into his office and informed him that his name was now “Catfish.” Jim was understandably confused, and while the conversation was not recorded, we’re almost positive his response was, “Um... why’s that?”
That’s because baseball players, like all professional athletes, are first and foremost entertainers—and entertainers aren’t named “Jim.” Unfortunately, guys like Charlie Finley are a bit of a dying breed. The perfect nickname used to be steeped in lore, metaphorically connected to athletic prowess, an inside-out joke that made children of all ages—particularly the nickname-ee—grin. Now, it seems, the “-Rod” generation simply resorts to hyphenated pig latin of sorts.
As Hunter left the office, he asked his new owner what he should say if and when people asked about the origin of his new nickname. Finley replied, “You came back from the river on your 10th birthday having caught six catfish and handed them to your old man. Sell it. Goodbye.” On that note, we now present the very best nicknames in sports...
Erotic Brooklyn: The Times catches up with the creative pair behind Jacques. [NYTimes]
The Citizen Kane of Hockey: Hockey has some really interesting backstory, it turns out, including this tale of hazing, false identities and murder. The Mighty Ducks was just scratching the surface. [Deadspin]
The Pajamas of the Past: A gentleman’s guide to stylish sleepwear, by way of Mad Men. [Vulture]
Night at the Museum: An Italian site has posted billion-pixel renditions of some of the great Renaissance frescoes. [Boing Boing]
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: The Lookbook captures a sculptural dresser. [NYMag]
Miley Who?: You might have noticed that we're not covering a certain controversial photoshoot by a certain 15-year-old teen-pop star in a certain general-interest magazine. Really, we've got better things to do with our time. [Maxim]
Saddle Up: If you're excited about Country-and-Western singer Tim McGraw's new fragrance, you might be a redneck. [She Knows Best]
If you've been watching hockey at all this season - and given that you're reading a men's fashion website, there's only about a 20% chance of that - you might have noticed that Sean Avery, forward for the surging New York Rangers is a little bit of an odd bird. But WWD tapped us into a whole new level of the left wing's oddness.