In our grand tradition of keeping you up to date on the international men’s shop scene, we’ve scoured the globe for the newest openings in your regular haunts—you know, Milan, London, Hong Kong, the usual. Because you never know when you’re going to need a new pair of striped socks while in Amsterdam.
Here’s a new secret weapon for your weekender bag: a pair of leather slippers. This pair comes from Portegna—a Spanish leather company more accustomed to handbags and card holders—with a little design help from Monocle. It’s designed to sub in for the flimsy hotel slippers you usually find alongside your terrycloth bathrobe. But instead of cotton and cardboard, these are glove-soft leather—and the kind of thing you might actually want to wear around the house.
Halloween can present a challenge for a well-dressed man—especially now that the “Don Draper” costume is well past its expiration date—but we’ve got a solution for you. It involves monocles…
The menswear canon has a lot of items that are both fantastic in a “deep trad” kind of way and completely ridiculous in any normal setting. This is your chance to see what you can do with them. And thanks to the pandemonium of style that will going on around you, you’ll look good pretty much no matter what.
Knit-Picking: Monocle scores again, with a set of Bolivian-knit sweaters. [Limited Hype]
I Have the Power: America finally gets its own ridiculous supercar—the SSC Ultimate Aero II—to compete with the Bugattis of the world. We are available for test drives. [Jalopnik]
Jenny from the Block: Jenny Lewis records a new album, sits in the backseat of a car wearing shorts. [Vanity Fair]
Convalescin’ in the Mine!: The first day after a long weekend is always a drag, but think of it this way: at least you aren’t convalescing from an asthma attack in an eerie Ukranian salt mine. [Raw File]
These Kyoto-inspired slippers are the latest item in Monocle’s never-ending parade of desirable goods, and they got us thinking about exactly where the slipper falls in the modern domestic arsenal. Most western eyes probably see these as a good item for Sunday mornings—possibly to be paired with a bathrobe and a homemade Bloody Mary—but to Japanese eyes, they’re a good deal more versatile. Stop by a Japanese house, and you’ll find an array of these slippers at the entrance for padding around after you’ve taken off your street shoes. If you’re looking to institute a shoe-free household—and avoid bloggy repercussions—you could do a lot worse than picking up a half-dozen of these. At the very least, they’ll be handsomer than socks.
Scanning the catalog of the newly landed Warby Parker Eyewear, we were pleased to come across this tradwear gem: the monocle.
Currently available under the Lewis Carroll-esque name, “Colonel Whisky Tortoise,” it’s one of the few monocles that we’ve seen actually make it onto a line sheet in quite some time. It’s pretty far along in the trad continuum—i.e. on your wishlist, it should go somewhere below your second plaid three-piece suit—but if you need to break something to register comic disbelief, accept no substitutes.
The chaps at Monocle are in the news again for launching both a Hong Kong bureau and a program on the BBC World News channel—a pair that would overjoy J-school purists, if it didn’t come attached to a magazine that’s looking more likea boutiqueevery day. For those keeping score, Newsweek doesn’t have either.
The line so far is that they funded the new bureau with tote bag sales. Of course, all their revenue goes to the same place, so you might as well say they funded it with blackberry sales, retail money or (gasp!) good old advertising. It’s sort of true, but more than a little unfair.
The binding is perfect, the run is limited to 1000 copies (just on the cusp of a guaranteed sellout) and the book itself, from Swiss essayist Alain de Botton, looks both impeccably written and perfectly chosen for Monocle’s office-bound demographic. A few hundred pages of well-thought musings on the nature of the working life might be just the thing to remind them what they liked about books in the first place.
Luckily, the magazine offers the perfect venue for publicizing the book, and they already have a few stores they can place it in—all of which makes Tyler Brule look more like Ted Turner than William Shawn.
At what point do we stop calling them a magazine and start calling them an empire?