Suited and Booted

Every girl appreciates a well dressed man. Not only does it prove he has finally grown out of the days his mother dragged him round Marks & Spencers to buy him 'proper trousers' and 'nice jumpers' but it also signals that a guy has good taste.

(This also ups the stakes for presents for yourself.)

Most men, unfortunately, have a complacent attitude when it comes to fashion and clothes. One which usually means owning more than two pairs of jeans, four jumpers and one pair of 'smart' shoes makes you a bit odd or 'fussy'. Men don't seem to be able to get their heads around a woman's need to look good - or a need for them to look good either.

Apparently if you haven't grown horizontally or vertically in the past 5 years there becomes no need for a man to make any new purchases. Especially when it involves trying six t-shirts on that to them 'all look the same'. (Note: Men apparently do not care if t-shirts are V-Necked or Round Necked -- "as long as they have a hole for my neck.")

Hmm, and they wonder why the classic 'jumper & shirt' combo still isn't getting them tons of desired female attention...

They also like to cower behind the standard Birthday/Christmas attire given to them by girlfriends past or tasteful sisters, which doesn't go unnoticed by females. (and is not appreciated).

One slight hitch to these men swamped in clothes undecided by them is that for some unknown and stupid reason, said garment(s) then become attached like an unwanted second skin, and after the initial 'Oh Dave, that's a lovely new t-shirt' it becomes shocking to see him in anything but. Problem.

So let's celebrate the (very few) men who know how to dress (well) and look bloody FIT when doing it. Men of the world; heed the message. You won't pull if you dress like Alan Partridge or Noel Edmunds. Even if you have the face of Jamie Dornan.
Sorry, that's just the.way.it.is. End of.

So Daniel Jones (a very dapper chap) has decided to commemorate those fellas who enjoy taking control of what they wear, and do so very well. Once again he has succeeded in producing a top notch article for me and I particularily like his adoration for Ed Westwick (don't we all just want to...)

I've decided to give him another opportunity to attempt to outshine me (he's got no chance).................Over to you Kooks.

--So after Vikki asked me to construct some magical literary gold dust for her blog

(--see what I meant about the arrogance...?)

I took her up on the offer, and I quite enjoyed it. Despite sounding like a bitter hippie trying to grasp onto the dying romanticism of some illicit musical dream and its eroding (or not) authenticity in image and balls-out attitude I think it was an overall triumph.

Bearing this in mind I thought I’d put my sartorial mindset to the paper once again for a brief run down of my top five best dressed British males - as inspired by this months issue of GQ.

Now, unfortunately for me I’ve got expensive taste in, well, most things. I‘m not a product of public schooling, I don‘t come from a spoilt background and I‘m quite content with what I have.
I just get drawn to the finer things in life and currently it‘s an overpowering bane. The countless days that have passed me by when I ask myself the same question; would I rather be living this fabled Lester Bangs penniless dream or marching to the 9 to 5 beat in a hate-filled job but actually having some sort of disposable income? Fuck, sometimes I don’t know myself….

But anyway, I’ll cast my self-absorbed troubles into the darkness for a couple of seconds while I run down my best dressed British men, in no particular order. (Ahem, I have kindly put them in order for you, Mr. Jones.)

1. Ed Westwick

(although pictures alone would be explanation enough for Mr. Westwick, Kooks thought he might as well...)

     

Not only the best dressed man on Josh Schwartz’s hit rich-kid TV series, Gossip Girl, but also a refined image of sartorial high life. His amalgamation of flamboyant colours and striking stripes are a hard thing to pull off but it doesn’t seem to be a problem for the British born actor. Flawless tailoring, immaculate shirt, tie and pocket handkerchief combinations and finely crafted British brogues make this polished and distinguished young man one of the sharpest high-flyers around. He’s also going to be responsible for the influx in bow-tie sales - no joke.

2. Mark Ronson

Discarding my opinion of Mr. Ronson for a minute I’ve got to give credit to the producer come DJ come nightlife fashionista. He is completely capable of donning a tweed suit with near impeccable execution which blends a very heritage based Prince Of Wales country-house look with his very own twist of casual soho chic. If only his styled up approach to fashion matched that of his musical products…(OUCH)

3. Luke Pritchard

When The Kooks came out in 2005 I was infatuated - after hearing ‘Eddies Gun’ and it’s candied indie-pop credentials I thought, ‘that’s it, those guys are cool as fuck’, and they were. Four care-free mop-topped, leather jacket wearing teens whose Chelsea boots and scuffed up vintage ensembles ultimately influenced a number of other bands since, there’s no doubt about that, and although their proceeding records may have lacked the exuberating flare of their debut, Luke’s image as remained consistently rock and roll.

.

   Progressing from the grubby girls jeans and second hand t shirts, Luke now prances around in Alexander McQueen, Prada and Brighton tailor Gresham Blake. As the times have changed, so has Luke, that needs recognition.

4. Matthew Horne  

Gavin & Stacey’s Matthew Horne is a great example of modern fashion, in a realistic money-strapped sense that is. Always one to do up his top button, Matt’s image ranges from the Merc mod-influenced to the high street indie chappy - boat shoes, slim-fit rolled up denim and a checked shirt. He’s no style pioneer, that’s not what I’m saying, but he is a well dressed individual who happens to reflect a large faction of noughties indie-look teenagers, and that needs a high-five at least.

5. Guy Ritchie

Mr Guy Ritchie’s films and his style have one thing in common: Both are quintessentially British and individually and distortedly patriotic, be it a call of arms to the grubby East End streets or a homage to sartorial heritage. From his Barbour and flat cap kids-to-school casual to the way him formally presents himself in a refined and dapper manor, and in essence it’s his well-executed transformation from smart-casual Pringle tops and sunglasses to a well crafted British suit that make him the Godfather of geezers.

Short but sweet, yeah? Well maybe just short, but I believe that the five men listed above are all individually dedicated to adhering to a illustrious level of self-style that has, and will continue to, influence the wardrobes of countless British men all searching for their own eminent ranking of self-sophistication and social recognition.

(Something that Dan is trying to achieve every day. I'll keep you posted on how it's turning out...)

There’ll be more soon, if Miss Hancock lets me!

Brief Relief

Go and peruse a copy of ELLE. Stop flicking when you get to a advertisement that doesn't have the following:
- A very good looking model
- A luxurious location or glamourous backdrop
- Said model in a provocative pose

Oh yeah and wearing very expensive clothes.

Ad Campaigns in Fashion are notorious for not only filling up an unhealthy and generous wedge of Vogue et al, but also for their sickeningly beautiful models whose faces have been so airbrushed it becomes rather difficult to believe they have any features that class them amongst us mere mortals.

(NB: see Madonna's Autumn/Winter 2009 Loius Vuitton campaign for evidence. Reminder: she is 50. Her face apparently is 25.)

Yeah, yeah, I get it, it's EXTREMELY OBVIOUS that in order to produce a good advertisement for Valentino, Chanel, Dior, D&G et al. you must, must, must  include these factors because nobody will get garment envy if they see Waynetta Slob sitting on a throne, eating donughuts. Even if she is kissing Ed Westwick and wearing a pair of Manolos.

This is why it is refreshing to flick through these magazines and see Juergen Teller's photographs for Marc Jacob's Collections.
Since their first collaboration in 1998, Juergen has not only successfully made Marc Jacobs campaigns innovative but also kept his distinctive photography alive.

His photographs for Marc Jacobs are ecclectic, fun and tongue-in-cheek all the while keeping up with the ever-so-glossy fashion packs hypnotic images.  (See below)

So next time you're flicking through i-D say a little 'thank-you' to Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Teller for giving you that brief relief from pouty, leggy, shiny-haired uber models (even if the odd appearance by Jamie Dornan in the Calvin Klein adverts makes you smile) and giving way for a raw and peculiar view of fashion campaigns.

Ps. That said, Dakota Fanning? I mean come on, what is she 12?! It's just a bit, well, wierd...Like seeing your little sister in your mum's clothes.

(See what I mean)

 

This is a Man's World...

Out of yet more writer’s block, laziness and an underlying jealousy issue with my friend Dan over his festive laziness period, I urged (pestered) him to write an article for my blog.

Let me give you a small introduction to Daniel Jones.

I was introduced to him as Kooks (he bears very little resemblance unless you count the hair). My first and rather immediate impression of him was that he carried an overbearing arrogance. This issue was resolved after many a drunken night at The Common – our home/den/squat come our final year of university.

After the initial setback of thinking he was an arsehole (sorry) I enjoyed Dan’s enthusiasm for fashion and the fact he requested we watch the Sex and The City film (again, sorry). He has very good taste in clothes and despite not having a girlfriend (ouch); he knows how to maintain himself.

He currently resides in Southampton where he likes to think he’s a big shot in music – although he is certainly getting there. He mainly (always) sticks to skinny jeans and really likes Fred Perry, but he knows his stuff so I wanted him to voice it. If I like it, he will be forced to write another article, which he will be thrilled to hear no doubt.

He is a highly sophisticated writer, so all of you who have the attention span of a goldfish should stop reading now. Those capable of understanding intellectual writing, read on, to explore the inner workings of a not so arrogant youth attempting his first fashion based piece. Enjoy.

Music critic’s are notoriously scruffy and seemingly sour individuals. Headphone clad attempted-comedians, they sit for days on end with a 45 spinning continuously, ashtrays filling up to the brim and no recollection of where the past few hours disappeared to. And although Anna Wintour may not see it as clearly as we’d like, music and fashion are about the same things - paying homage to past legacy’s and praising the innovation of new-wave individuals who cast their apparitions deep into the unknown mist of the future. I’m a music critic, and I sure as hell aint scruffy…

(you sure Daniel?)

Ever since the early 60s when Mods and Teddy Boys pranced around Carnaby street in two-tone tonic suits and slicked-back Elvis barnets, fashion has become integrated into music as a driving force of individuality and identification. Scenes and trends were rife during this time and things haven’t changed music in that respect, but when we discuss authenticity within these scenes then it’s fair to say the legitimacy of our image is crumbling under a looming corporate fist of high street chains whose cheap and thoughtless production of ‘rock and roll’ influenced ‘looks’ mean that the identity we search for in fashion and music is becoming common and tactless.

I suppose I’m a cynic in some respects. I’m a bit ignorant, probably a bit naïve and definitely bemused. If I think back to when I first got properly into music and the fashion that went with it I can certainly recall a number of times that I’d received abuse from the regular plain-jane morons who inhabit the various clubs of my city, clad in Burton shirts and cheap loafers, they ambled on about hair cuts and the like but now it’s these very same victims of commercial influence who are clothed in cardigans and scruffy mop-tops with a wannabe WAG on their arm and James Blunts fucking back catalogue of dire murderous dross.

I’m not a fashion writer so I don’t know how these things work. This is probably a regular cycle, waves of popularity within particular looks and trends, well it is, obviously, because that’s why it’s a trend, but I just feel…cheated that these Topman shopping, skinny jean wearing toss pots feel that they are the curators of such individualism, however pugnacious and fucking pretentious that sounds..

I blame All Saints.

Over priced tosh for the reproduced closed minded.

If I discard my idiosyncratic ideologies for a bit though, I’m sure this is a good thing. People becoming more diverse and all that. Back in the 60s people didn’t give a shit who wore what, comments were not thrown around like shit-stained confetti and with this influx of a little more variety minds are becoming less contained and brilliantly broadened.

When I started University over three years ago, I’ve graduated now you’ll be happy to hear, things weren’t so assorted. Fashion, in men that is, was still rather limited and commercially restricted, but it was developing. 60s Fred Perry was coming back in fashion, Penguin was hitting the U.K mainstream and cardigans were no longer a social or fashionable faux-pas. And now, it’s a much more eclectic affair, maybe music’s partly responsible what with the rise in ‘indie’ (fucking hate that term) on the radio and in the papers ever since that Doherty fella coped off with some coke-head model - but this is nothing other than a terrible thing.

Rock stars have become figures of celebrity-ism as it becomes more about who they’re nailing rather than the whole-hearted image and soul of the music they produce.



As Pete hit the Bizarre pages of the Sun newspaper I’m pretty sure the sale figures on trilby’s and rosary beads went sky high, and that’s not what it’s about.

To be honest I don’t really know the point of this article. Maybe it’s for recognition. Recognition to the music world and its influence on people fair and the cycles in which fashion circulates. The Luke Pritchards, The Orlando Weeks, The Liam Frays, the people whose subtle wardrobe adjustments may not seem so prolific but do in fact have some authority and control on the wardrobes of others - like a butterfly effect . Maybe it’s an outlet of my annoyance of people’s disregard for the countless individuals who’ve been told to get a hair cut by street-dwelling urchins who now think they’re ’indie’ or whatever the fucking term is these days because they‘ve got a pair of winkle pickers and a Mumford And Sons album. Who knows? I don’t really…