Schooled and Dazed

Dear world, I’ve missed you. I’m sorry about the time apart, but I needed to clear my head. It was a good trip though – this is some of what I’ve learned in the time we’ve been apart:

I like shoes. It’s the truth. Even though I’m a certified sneaker head, a fiend for leather, cotton and form, for newbies and throwbacks, being away from the scene for a bit aroused my 'preciation for the other form of leather, of suede and of utter dopeness. There’s a lot you can do with a vintage pair of wingtips, some crisp square toes or some boat shoes. Maybe it’s a reaction to aging (grunt) or maybe it’s a result of having to go to more formal events, but my kicks on my shoe rack are definitely sharing shelf space. For some ill-inspiration, check out what the homies at DSquared did…done!

Also- Bohemia is complex! I read a lot while I wasn’t out drinking. The reading lead to thinking, which lead to more reading which lead to sleeping and dreaming and then realizing that the bohemia cocoon engulfing New York is more complex than skinny jeans and a scarf. Bohemia exists in a larger way than hipsters do, than scenesters do and wannnabes too (Dr.Seuss rhyme?), and is still not as easy a concept as you is or you ain’t. It’s not completely based on geography, and not completely based on creativity either- reason being: the world is becoming smaller, so small that bohemia and the mainstream are fusing, albeit inconsistently, at the seams. Marc Jacobs endorses MIA, Hot 97 interviews Santogold and Sex, Drugs and Coco Puffs is still a Barnes and Noble classic. You can go find some yuppy bankers in Williamsburg, true with their 7th avenue haircuts and khakis, or you can go to Union Square and find some non-traditional, yet real, bohemians, rocking old navy t-shirts and discussing the future of…the future. And I don’t know about you, but Bohemia is where I wanna be, give me societies of creative and forward thinking people, dinners with vanguards and crazy parties with people who are actually progressive…you can keep the skinny jeans (just kidding, I’ll take those too). For more brain food check out Rise of the Creative Class, by Richard Florida and for a quick fix, peep this:

And you know what else- men are a market in fashion and fashion does the worst job at marketing to men!!! Maaaan, funk that!! I know there’s GQ mag and Complex….but somehow they don't cut it. Those basically give us 12 months of the same look and same motifs, respectively. I’ve met enough aesthtically progressive dudes to know that those two magazines can’t be their bibles. And the blogs don’t’ exist. For females you can find a plethora of possibly conceited sisters taking pics of themselves, hoping to inspire the internet dwellers with their hopefully unique fashion sense, or I can at least find a blog that smatters looks together. But not for the brothers. For us it’s, GQ, style.com (owned by GQ), Complex and…suck it up. This probably says a lot about adventurousness in male fashion, gender in the mianstream, even in the wake of metrosexuality, and the signals of pop culture. Either way, I’m sending the signal out there, someone…save our clothes. If not, SND might have to just do it ourselves....hmmm.

I feel like a modern day Sophicles, or Siddartha, with better shoes and better breath. Mad more musings from my headspace to come, stay tuned.


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