My First Month with HBO NOW
I’m loving HBO NOW. After a glorious 30-day free trial, this cord-cutter is gladly renewing.
I’m loving HBO NOW. After a glorious 30-day free trial, this cord-cutter is gladly renewing.
I love a classic valet. When I was growing up, my father had one that was made of a medium stained wood with a tray for coins, cufflinks and collar stays, and a rack on the base for shoes. He used it every day.
After he died, I inherited it and used it… sort-of. During my twenties, I wasn’t so into suits and hadn’t much use for the valet, which I carelessly lost on one of my numerous moves in Manhattan. When I saw one much like my dad’s in a movie recently, an urge was reignited. So I took to eBay.
My friend Baylen sent me a short but fascinating article in The Atlantic about the power of wearing a suit. The piece explores recent research about the psychological effect of “formal” clothing, both on the wearer and on those around him. In this episode of the podcast, I talk about how the article articulated and validated much of my own personal experience with a suit’s effect. When I made the decision in my late thirties to start regularly representing myself in suits (both for work and social occasions), things changed – and all for the better.
The operative word? Empowerment.
One of my favorite shirt cloth weaves is end-on-end. It combines alternating light and dark threads to produce the look of a solid from a distance but a nice rich texture up close.
I’ve been lucky. I’ve made it my entire life without needing corrective lenses of any kind. Until now.
Since I turned 44 last year, small print has decided to become harder for me to read than the terms and conditions of an Apple software upgrade and may need to use computer reading glasses. After a little bit of denial, a lot of squinting and ultimate acceptance, I decided to march over to the CVS across the street and investigate the reading glasses situation.
In certain sub-sects of menswear enthusiasts, there is a serious fetish for an extremely fine type of suit wool with an extraordinarily soft hand. These wools are delineated by what is called an “S” or “Super” number. The higher the S number, the finer the wool.
The number itself refers to the number of times the wool thread is twisted. The more the yarn is twisted, the finer and thinner it gets, yielding a super-soft fabric with an extremely silky feel.
The average wool suit that most men wear is probably made with somewhere between a Super 100s and a Super 120s. Maybe up to a Super 130s on the outside. The ultra soft (and ultra expensive) wools happen at around a Super 150s and can flirt with 200 or higher.
Here’s the thing with the higher numbers, though: While these high Supers are extraordinarily soft, they’re also very delicate, making them very impractical for regular wear. Sit for an hour in a suit made with Super 180s wool, and you’ll be far more wrinkled than someone wearing a Super 110s. Another drawback is that the high Super wools don’t “bounce back” like the lower numbers, which means your suit will need a press or a steam before each wearing.
My amazing and brilliant writer friend Sophia Stuart (@teamgloria_) asked me to be a part of a series of sartorial anecdotes on Lyst called "What I Wore When." For my interview, they were curious about my experience on Sex and…
Anyone with money can acquire. What’s more interesting to me is when someone does something fantastic with limited resources. There is a popular school of thinking that equates style and refinement with big spending – a frustrating philosophy backed up by countless magazines, blogs and online influencers pushing the luxury agenda. The new Men’s Style section of The New York Times appears to be yet another one.
As a frugal consumer and creator of content that advocates living well and looking good without being a millionaire, I got called out by a follower on Instagram when I posted a picture of a new pair of Alden Chukka Boots. With a price tag of nearly $700, Alden Chukka boots aren’t cheap, and my follower had a point… to a point.
In this episode, I make the argument for when a splurge is justified. It’s all about value and what a particular item means to you. As my friend Glenn Gissler eloquently put it: value is quality over time.
Non-iron cotton is the death of dress shirts. Any semi-serious sartorialist who appreciates real soft cotton that breathes would have nothing to do with these formaldehyde-soaked (and potentially toxic) Frankenshirts. The wash/dry/wear convenience of non-iron shirts has made them extremely popular and very profitable for shirt makers. These days, it seems you have to go on a black-ops covert mission to find a handsome, affordable and well-made white dress shirt made with real cotton. Even trusted brands like our stalwart Brooks Brothers have gone as far as making regular cotton shirts unavailable entirely, at least for any reasonable cost.