*Okay, I don’t know the first thing about fashion. I know what I personally like to wear, but that’s about as far as my fashion knowledge extends. The clothing choices of other guys, especially those choices dictated by things like GQ (which I’ve always pronounced “Gick”), almost always perplex me. Since I’m someone who dislikes being perplexed, I therefore become frustrated. Then the frustration begets opinions.
Two types of people should wear ties. The first are secret agents, because the tie can be used tactically as a zip line when slung over a wire. It is also acceptable for clowns to wear ties, since water shot out of a bowtie at an unsuspecting sap will never cease being funny. Besides those instances, I don’t understand the whole hullabaloo about them. People say they exude class? I say they exude: Oh, hey, ya know that horrible, drawn out, agonizing way of dying known as “strangulation?” Yeah, we wanna ensure you’re roughly thirty seconds away from that terrible fate at all times (or…tie-ms?).
The phrase “power tie” also makes me laugh. Unless your tie doubles as a photovoltaic cell (like, if you’re the aforementioned secret agent who also happens to be environmentally conscious and optimistic-yet-naïve about alternative energy), you ain’t wearin’ a power tie, my friend.
Look at your footwear. Could you outrun a cop and/or a brown bear right now? This is assuming you aren’t in despicable cardiovascular shape. Could you? If not, you’re wearing the wrong shoes.
Listen, our ancestors trudged barefoot through unthinkable terrain scavenging for food and migrating from place to place. It does a disservice to their podiatry suffering to wear uncomfortable and impractical dress shoes. Yeah, your Perry Ellis loafers may gain you admittance to some swanky nightclub, but they would’ve been useless in the event of a saber-toothed tiger attack. I’m sticking with my Asics and Saucony running shoes, thanks.
Unless your job requires you to constantly note the exact time of day (I have no idea what job would require this), wearing fancy watches is just dumb. If you’re wearing a particularly gaudy one and get mugged, you 100% deserve it.
There are, of course, exceptions: calculator watches and rapper “bling” watches. In my opinion, if you’re going to spend more than $15 on a watch, it better be able to crunch numbers or cost $80,000 and have more carrots than Bugs Bunny (that line works better out loud. Stupid homonyms). Settling for anything else is foolish. If you want to invest in a, say, $400 watch, buy a grandfather clock instead. It’s far classier and far more difficult to steal.
Unless you are taking the field for the Yankees, there are no justifiable reasons pinstripes should be on your person. Oh, but they’re slimming! No, they make you look like a barcode.
Button-Down Shirts Not of the Flannel or Hawaiian Phylums
Buttons are a pain. Everyone knows this. They pop off easily, which then render them choking hazards (basically, if you’ve ever lost a button you may be responsible for the death of a small animal). If I’m going to tolerate the inconvenience and potential moral repercussion of buttons, then there better be a substantial payoff.
With flannels, you have warmth. That’s an undeniable bonus. People claim it’s a “hipster” look, but I disagree. Flannels are simply practical. Plus, they make for easy Halloween costumes. With one flannel shirt and one shiny rock you can be Nicolas Flannel from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Tell me that isn’t a genius costume.
While Hawaiian shirts aren’t quite as practical or versatile, you can at least be assured you’ll always be the most stylish person in the room. Always. Women will flock to you; Hawaiian shirts are pretty much synthetic pheromones. Trust me, I wore Hawaiian shirts on at least 70% of the days in my 8th grade year. It was the “Shawn Hunter” look and it rocked serious socks. Did girls fawn over me? Quantifiably speaking…no. But that’s just because they were too young to appreciate my suave attire. I’m sure now many of those girls are now filled with deep and painful regrets. If you happen to currently be the therapist for one of those said girls, you pretty much owe me money.