Thursday, 15 January 2009

Clothes maketh the renaissance man

It first happened when I was looking for naked pictures of the Twin Peaks actress Sherilyn Fenn: I followed an unpromising link and stumbled across an Aladdin's cave (did Aladdin have a cave? Ali Baba? Well, some sort of really excellent cave, anyway) of Internet wisdom, wit and all-round wellness. I had been exposed to my first fashion blog.

As time went on, I found that more and more seemingly unrelated searches were producing similar results; whether I wanted porn or political punditry, fashion blogs would provide. As a corollary of the shift in my Web-viewing habits, I started to pay greater attention to my own appearance. I've never been a clothes person, the only accoutrements I've purchased for myself are a couple of jackets and a pair of shoes. Otherwise, I rely on gifts and hand-me-downs (not that the two categories are mutually exclusive) from friends and family. Seeing as how I have no source of income and no prospect of employment, this is unlikely to change in the forseeable future.

However, I'm keen to make the best of what's available, and it's with this in mind that I present the inaugural entry of my new, clothing-themed sub-blog: [title forthcoming]. In it, I'll be presenting selections of my daily outfits for your delectation, and submitting them to some rudimentary criticism. I entreat you to join in; despite what I said in the introduction, everything I know about fashion could be inscribed on the rim of a shot glass with a crayon made out of steam.

So, on to outfit number one!

This is a three-piece ensemble comprising a pair of off-white chinos, a grey t-shirt and a grey-brown woolen fleece thing that's way too small for me because it was bought when I was 14. The shoes are brown and white trainers I got in Next with some Christmas vouchers.

I'm surprised by how passable it looks in this shot, because I thought I was walking around dressed like an absolute twat (I have heavy issues about the amount of shirt visible below a sweater, but the ratio looks alright here).

The colours still bother me: I'm suspicious that the lighting in this photo makes them appear to work when they really don't. With the exception of the shoes, all of the items are from the white-grey part of the spectrum, which seems drab and unadventurous (I'm ashamed of myself). Some bolder shades certainly wouldn't look amiss, maybe what's needed is a fluorescent boa?

So, those are my thoughts. Anyone have anything to share? No?

3 comments:

sam_s said...

Deur Man,

I am interested in your clothes. I like them and they look nice on you and they make me do mess. Big mess. 3 messes. I am fan of you and your words and I like to sometimes say to myself "Hello, I am man who writes words!" and I dream and I sometimes makes messes.

Please amke more pictures I am happy.

Thankyou please,

Yuor friend,

Peter Gabriel

p.s. It's been sometime since I've seen you chum (about 6 months?!) Drop me a line if you fancy some beer next week - oh yeah, it's Sam, not Peter Gabriel.

Also, more clothies pleeze.

Mauricio said...

I saw the above Peter Gabriel earlier today and we had a cup of coffee and we talked about you. We hoped (I hoped and the above Peter Gabriel said he did also. Shall we agree to trust him in his agreement?) you would join us some time in the future for a chat. Given your flowering interest in fashion, I could make an effort and wear something photograph-able for the occasion.
I know for a fact that the above Peter Gabriel has a jacket whose sleeves have factory-made thumb holes.

Nickname unavailable said...

I think you've keyed into a nascent proto-trend of our epoch-state: the post-ironic statement. In a world where everything is a joke, seriousness is the new humour. When style may be purchased, 'found style', 'anti-style', and 'sty-le', and it has been variously branded (or, more to the point, unbranded) becomes the currency of the day. Fashion cannot exist without the eye of the other. When you step into good or bad lighting, you step into and out of good or bad fashion sense. You step into and out of.... yourself