Art is increasingly being treated like a commodity, like pork bellies or wheat futures.
Which means that buying art can get, well, downright tacky.
So, forget all the vulgar zeros on the record-shattering price Picasso’s Women of Algiers brought in at the latest Christie’s auction. And forget words like “investor” and “art fund.”
For centuries, mankind has relied on sweaters for winter layering and autumn-night warmth. But beyond that, they’ve been something of an afterthought. Until today.
Because today we’re celebrating the venerable garment in all of its forms by counting down the 70 greatest moments in sweaterdom—from lumpy cardigans to clingy cashmere hugging the shapely, we’ve found them all. And we’ve assembled them in full splendor.
On the day that would’ve marked Pablo Picasso’s 131st birthday (as legend has it, he was thought to have been born still, until a visitor’s cigar smoke blew onto the newborn’s face and he cried out to everyone’s surprise), we’d like to take a moment to salute the legendary artist, Under 5′7″ All-Star and boat shirt aficionado with a few iconic photos and noteworthy words of wisdom.
The Artist is headed for quite a night this Sunday, so we thought we’d take a shot at nailing down exactly why it’s struck a nerve with the Oscar-voting public. It’s not the silent part. It’s certainly not the French part. It’s not even the sultry, half-Argentine actress, although she doesn’t hurt.
No, we’re thinking of the pure, unsullied bond between a man and his dog—in this case, between Jean Dujardin and Uggie, the expertly trained Jack Russell terrier who (we’ll just come out and say it) carries the movie. If Dujardin walks away with a statuette, he’ll know who to thank.
But it’s hardly the first time this has happened—so to correct some of the canine oversight, we thought we’d shine a light on the dogs behind five great and/or debonair men of the past hundred years, from Picasso to Gosling. They were good dogs...
This hand-dyed popover is one of the more exotic shirts we’ve seen, thanks to no less than three off-kilter touches. First off, there are no cuffs—just a tiny cinching at the end of the sleeve. Second, it’s a single unseamed piece of cloth (aside from the sleeves and placket), giving it a smock-like vibe. And then, there’s that collar…
Nowadays, going collarless tends to be a sign of schlubbiness—the first step on a long road towards sweatpants—but it doesn’t have to be that way. If you choose your crewnecks with enough care, and wear them with enough verve, it becomes a style all its own. Exhibit A: Pablo Picasso…
Specifically stress-related baldness in lab mice but, you know, baby steps. And on the off-chance this actually pans out and the current generation of youths never has to face down the sheer-pated scourge, we’d like to weigh in while there’s still time.
We’ll miss it. We swear.
Don’t get us wrong; there are plenty of guys with a real genetic gripe, gracefully fighting the good fight with shampoos and fedoras. But then there are the Picassos of the world, wearing their clean skull with pride and scoring one for the Aging Male everywhere. We can’t help but feel a pang of loss at the prospect of a world without them. We’d prefer this problem be solved with style rather than science—and we don't mean hats. Whither Ed Harris?