I sometimes forget that not every post has to be introspective and existential. It’s okay to lighten things up and not be so damn serious all the time.
In that spirit, I’ve been toying with writing about style and what good style means to me for a while now. I’ve been interested in style, and fashion in particular, for as long as I can remember. My mother is into clothes and dressing well, and she passed this on to me. I remember her buying me soft, colorful, velour shirts, corduroy pants, and Buster Brown shoes when I was a kid–clothes that had texture, weight, and feeling to them. She’d put things on lay-away and hide the bill from my father, who, as explained in detail below, didn’t give two shits about fashion and saw no value in spending money on it. ‘What’s wrong with Zayre’s??’ he’d ask. In 1970s New England, Zayre’s was a step down from Walmart. Maybe two steps. If it had been up to my father, we would have been decked out in Zayre’s finest from the first grade all the way through high school. My mother wouldn’t have it, thank God.
When I was 8 or 9, I began to develop my own clothing preferences. I told my mother I wanted to wear Jox sneakers, not Fayva Olympians, Lee Toughskins, not corduroy pants that swished when I walked, and gym shorts with lined borders, not the terry cloth shorts she kept buying me. In winter, I wanted a down jacket like my friends had, not the snorkel jacket with fake fur lining the hood that I’d been wearing since the first grade. I hated the snorkel look and how the fringe tickled my face and made me sweat with the hood on.
Sidenote: ironically, Canada Goose made those fugly snorkel jackets trendy again a few years ago when it came out with snorkel parkas that cost $1800. $1800!! I still can’t stand snorkel jackets and find it hilarious that grown adults are willing to pay such an outrageous sum of money for a look that I disdained when I was 9 years old.
Around this age, I started getting too attached to my favorite clothes, like a black windbreaker with the number ’12’ emblazoned in gold on the back that I loved and wore everywhere. As happens, it eventually became too small for me, and I was forced to stop wearing it, relegating it to my closet. I got teary when I outgrew it and couldn’t wear it any more, not gonna lie. I really loved that jacket and remember it fondly.
I drove my poor mother nuts with my fashion demands, but I think she understood and appreciated that I loved clothes as much as she did, so she obliged me if they didn’t cost too much. Then, as stated, she’d hide the clothing bills from my father to avoid a fight. She always tried to get the mail before he got home in case the bill from the clothing store came that day. If she was unlucky, it would arrive on a day my father came home early and got to the mailbox first. Then he’d hit the roof and a battle royale would ensue. Whenever I’m tempted to judge my mother too harshly, I remember that she fought a lot of battles on our behalf and went to war with my father over things that weren’t important to him but were really important to my sisters and I. Things like clothes, Atari, and music lessons. A lot of my parents’ marital discord was rooted in my mother trying to convince my father to give us (and her) not just what we needed, but what we wanted. He ultimately did this most of the time, but not without blowing the house up first.
In retrospect, it was totally unnecessary and all about his insecurity and need for control, not money. It wasn’t like these clothes were super expensive or my father couldn’t afford them. He could. He was just a dick when it came to spending money on things HE didn’t think were worth the expense. Clothes weren’t worth it to him, and he didn’t give a shit if we got teased at school because we were wearing cheap knock-off shit from the Zayre’s sales rack. My father dealt with way worse bullying when he came to this country at the age of 11 not speaking a word of English, so the ramifications of wearing cheap or ill-fitting clothes to school didn’t even register on his radar. Life experience has a way of biasing people beyond repair.
My interest in style and fashion really took off during my visits to Italy when I saw how cool my Italian cousins dressed, and how they carried themselves so confidently, seemingly not giving a shit about anything. Then again as a teenager when Zio Saverio visited us in the States a few times during the 80s. My uncle really woke me up to fashion, style, and a side of being a man that I’d never witnessed in my father. He was a gourmet chef and playboy who really knew how to pull women–beautiful women, even American women despite his short visits and not speaking a word of English–with his well-appointed fashion sense, insane confidence, and sense of humor. The guy was a total ladies man, and I was seriously in awe of him and how he operated. If memory serves, he fucked someone in my treehouse during a house party on one of his visits. That’s some serious rizz, man.
Saverio owned a restaurant just outside of Milan that catered to local business people, including clothing manufacturers who gave him nice discounts on designer clothes. He also wore cologne, which my father never did, assuming you agree that Aqua Velva and Brut are not cologne. My uncle always smelled elegant and a cut above to me. I also took notice of the myriad grooming accoutrements he kept on our bathroom counter during his visits. I’d never seen a man with that much primping material: cologne, aftershave, moisturizing creme, beard scissors, designer soaps and shampoo. I couldn’t believe a man used all that stuff. I thought only women did that.
When he returned to Italy, he left me his bottles of Paco Rabanne, Kouros, and Drakkar Noir, all of which I wore to my junior high and high school dances and the handful of dates I went on in high school. I laugh now, but wearing his cologne made me feel grown up and like a man of the world. It made me feel a bit like him, like I was spraying a little of his confidence and charisma on me with each spritz. None of my friends wore cologne back then, and if they knew I had some on, they would have mocked the hell out of me. But smelling like a man made me feel like I had an edge over them, like I knew something they didn’t yet.
I began buying GQ magazine off the rack in my late teens and early 20s, and reading articles about clothes, music, books, and travel. Eventually I got a subscription and started pining for the ridiculously expensive clothes I saw in the magazine, which I never thought I’d be able to afford.
Query: did my burgeoning materialism subconsciously push me towards law school and away from the Peace Corps or Jesuit Volunteer Corps back then? You know what, I think it may have. It’s really hard to find Nino Cerruti Eau de Toilette in Uganda.
In my early 20s, when I was trying to figure out my next move in life, I went to California and worked at a Banana Republic in Long Beach for 9 months. This is when I learned about color schemes, fabrics, and fit. It’s also where I started seriously buying my own clothes for the first time, using my BR discount and the opinions of my gay and female co-workers. I spent almost every dollar I earned on new clothes.
So that’s the backstory. I’ve been interested in style and fashion for most of my life, dating all the way back to my childhood. When I originally conceived of writing on this subject, I imagined it as a primer for my two nephews to read after I’ve departed from this world. A little amateur advice from their uncle to guide them the way Zio Saverio did for me when I was their age. I want them to develop their own unique style so they can project themselves into the world in a way that best represents who they are and makes them feel confident about themselves. This is what style is to me. It’s how we project ourselves into the world–how we choose to project ourselves into the world. A big part of style, how we carry ourselves, is fake it ’til you make it. But the other part is within our control. What we wear. How we smell. How our bodies look. How we groom ourselves. How we sound when we speak. How we listen and respond to people. How we act in certain situations. Good style allows us to promote our best selves, the selves we want the world to see and ideally, the selves we really are inside.
Style seems to come more naturally to women than it does to men because unfairly, looks are a point of focus and attention for girls and young women in a way that they aren’t for boys and men, though this is changing. Most men are comparatively clueless when it comes to fashion and style, probably because our fathers didn’t give two shits about it.
I know mine didn’t. My dad’s chosen wardrobe his entire adult life was a t-shirt, usually with some kind of image on it, and jeans, which he referred to as ‘dungarees’. Getting that guy to dress up when the situation required it was like trying to get a donkey to climb a mountain. He always made it difficult, and his sartorial stubbornness almost became a point of pride for him. On special occasions like a wedding or a holiday party, when he couldn’t wear his capsule t-shirt and jeans wardrobe, my mother picked out classier clothes for him as if she were dressing a Ken doll. Once in a while she’d buy him nice clothes to try and glow him up–nothing crazy, a polo shirt, chinos, and casual shoes–but he’d refuse to wear them because they made him uncomfortable, and she’d have to return them. A fucking polo shirt made him uncomfortable. (ANY change made that guy uncomfortable, FFS.)
When my mother got tired of trying to clothe him like an adult, he defaulted to the same go-to ‘dressy’ outfit: a brown sport coat, white dress shirt and tie (which I tied for him if I was around), pale green jeans, white athletic socks, and these black faux suede shoes that had a thick sneaker-like sole so they were comfortable. His green jeans stood out the most, so Sister J. and I referred to this costume as ‘Mr. Green Jeans.’
‘Dad’s going as Mr. Green Jeans again.’
Unless something was ripped and falling apart, my father refused to upgrade his clothes. So for 25 years, he wore the same dated, out of fashion shit, the same road race t-shirts and Lee jeans almost every day. The only new clothes I ever saw him buy himself were jeans and sneakers. What made his intransigence inexplicable to me is when I’d see old pictures of him decked out in these hip, James Dean-style windbreakers, paisley short-sleeve shirts, khaki pants, and stylish shoes during the 60s, a few years before he got married. He looked great, and this was how he used to dress when he first met my mother. She must have been furious at his rope-a-dope because he stopped that shit on a dime after they got married. I have no idea why. Maybe she nagged all the fashion sense out of him. It’s frustrating because my father was in great physical shape until the day he died. Thin, athletic, and muscled in a wiry old man kind of way. He never gained weight or had a belly. He would have looked amazing if he had dressed well once in a while. Alas.
To be fair, my father was far from alone in his sartorial disregard. Just look at some of the men walking around America today. They’re wearing Crocs in public, backwards hats and numbered sports jerseys well into middle age, Patagonia activewear as daily drivers, white socks paired with shoes, brown belts paired with black shoes, sweatpants outside the house. Some of them–too many of them–walk around New York City in the middle of summer, when the stink from piss and rotting garbage is wafting off the sidewalks, in fucking flip-flops. Others treat Axe body spray as cologne.
But go to France or Italy, and you’ll see the total opposite. Well-dressed men who carry effortless and understated style into their 70s and 80s. Men who wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some of the absurd shit American men wear. Men I seek to emulate.
American male fashion slobbery needs to stop, and this post is my small attempt to end this madness.
If I can help just one man with this post, if I can save just one life, it will have been worth it.
First, a brief disclaimer.
This is subjective–all style opinions are–and I’m not trying to insult anyone. I never worked in the fashion industry (other than that BR job), and I don’t profess to be an expert on this subject. I’m far from an expert. No one who knows me in real life thinks I’m some kind of style savant or fashion-forward man about town. I don’t stand out in Target. I’m just a guy with an interest in style who’s learned a few things in his life and wants to pass them on. Take them or leave them.
A lot of style and fashion is trial and error. As old photos of me will attest, I’ve made my share of fashion mistakes. It’s probably best to start things off with a bit of humility, so here’s a little taste of my many fashion calamities as a younger man, including two of the most embarrassing pictures ever taken of me:
Jesus, what a train wreck.
Let’s address these disasters clockwise, shall we?
Top left: For some reason, despite having a pipe-cleaner body back in 1987, I had a penchant for garish tanktops like that stupid looking tie-dye number you see above, which I paired with hilariously skinny black jeans, tightrolled at the bottom, and capped off with high-top Asics wrestling shoes that had no cushion and killed my feet, but looked great (in my own mind), so I wore them everywhere.
Not flattering at all. Standing in front of that sportscar, I look like a rich Daddy’s twink.
Top middle: Speaking of twinks, I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking with this bicurious ensemble. I had just purchased a new mountain bike, and I think I was stuck in a Breaking Away phase or something. I’m wearing a Campagnolo cycling cap as if I were some kind of serious cyclist, and an ironic ‘Sex Kills’ t-shirt that I bought in college and thought might be fun to rock around suburbia during my summer break. Then the pièce de résistance, these ugly as FUCK baggy-ass patterned workout pants that velcroed at the waist and ballooned out like MC Hammer’s pants in the ‘Can’t Touch This’ video. These were the type of easy-adjusting pants that a 90 year-old in a nursing home would wear after losing the ability to button a fly and calibrate a belt. Even back then I knew they were an abomination, but as one can tell from this photo I was in serious ‘fuck it’ mode at the time, so I took them out for a spin. I don’t think I ever wore them again.
Top right: This was taken before a Blind Date Ball during my sophomore year of college. BDBs were set up for you by friends or roommates, with input from you. I had a massive crush on the stunning girl to my right who was in one of my Poli Sci classes and of course, didn’t know I existed. As a joke, I told my best friend Chris that I wanted to go to the BDB with her, never thinking she’d say yes. I even gave him a backup name for the inevitable rejection. Nope. Chris fucking DELIVERED. I was stunned when he told me, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe there was money involved.
In any case, as far as I knew she graciously said ‘yes’ to his BDB invitation even though she had no romantic interest in me whatsoever, a sentiment that’s perfectly recorded in this image, where she’s looking anywhere but in my direction.
For my part, I was nervous as hell, but I prepared for my special night by dressing as a cross between a mafia hit man (black shirt, electric blue tie, reflective gray sports jacket) and a member of Kajagoogoo:
I think I nailed it.
Bottom left: Post college. Some improvement going sockless with Timberland boat shoes, but I fucked up by matching them with acid wash jeans (a mistake in their own right) and a hot pink Champion sweatshirt that was definitely the wrong shade of pink for me, but I loved for some reason and wore way too often for the next three years.
But I do see progress here. A boy trying to grow up.
Bottom center: First year of law school, 1993. This is me studying for finals, stressed out of my mind because everything rides on those first year grades: class rank, job interview opportunities, law firm offers–basically my entire future. I had the Eye of the Tiger that month and didn’t want to be interrupted for anything, as you can see from my annoyed face in this photo. But I’m so glad I have it now because it really captures that anxious year of my life like nothing else. Comfort was everything during finals, so I’m wearing the same ugly pink sweatshirt from the prior picture and a jean baseball cap that made me look like Tugboat Willie but covered my unwashed and unkempt hair. The jean cap did pair nicely with the jean jacket that’s hanging on the chair behind me, even though both were a shade of blue that looks like shit on me. Hard to believe I thought that ridiculous goatee looked good, but apparently I did. I’d kill for that beard color now.
Clear regression here.
Bottom right: 2007, Oahu, Hawaii – I was there to attend a friend’s wedding. One can see that I’ve somewhat got my shit together by the age of 38. Took me long enough. The dark jeans and flowered shirt (bought in Italy two years before) match well, but the jeans are too baggy (the style at the time), and the shirt is possibly too young for me, but passable given the location. I give myself credit for experimenting and at least wearing that shirt in a sensible place.
So…. regrets, I’ve had a few. I’ve chased my share of fads and made my share of fashion mistakes. My point is that I’m no style expert, and a lot of what I’m about to say is based on trial and error and decades of hilarious miscues that I can laugh at now. I’m 56 and feel like I’ve finally gotten my style right, just in time for retirement when barely anyone will see me.
What follows are my thoughts on style and fashion, for better or worse. I’m dedicating this post to my nephews D. and M. and most of all, to my Original Style Gangster, Zio Saverio, who taught me so much about style and manhood, whether he realized it or not. (Sky point)
Let’s roll.
Why Care About Style At All?
Why does style matter? Isn’t it just superficial nonsense? Why care about style in the first place? With all the important shit going on in the world, why should we care about trying to look like an Armani runway model?
Fair questions, and they’re a starting point for this entire conversation. No, you don’t need to care about style. Of course you don’t. And yes, the subject of style is superficial nonsense in a certain context, but I think this has more to do with the overly restrictive way some people define style. If one only views style as limited to the world of runway models, designer clothes, and pedantic pontificators telling you why you should spend $2000 on a Valentino pullover, of course that’s superficial horseshit, and you should ignore it.
But I don’t view style this way. I view it as a much broader subject than this.
Everyone looks and carries himself or herself a certain way in this world. You can choose not to care about style, but you still have a style whether you want to or not. How you look and come across to people in your daily life IS your style. It’s your default outward projection of self that everyone around you perceives, interprets, and judges you on. A person’s style conveys data points that the unconscious mind processes for better or worse. Your outward appearance and how you carry yourself are the first things people notice about you, and first impressions matter, at least to me.
To me, good style isn’t just about clothes and cologne, it’s about self-confidence, self-awareness, how we communicate, how we listen, how we think and perceive, and how we reflect all of this, all of ourselves, into the world. Clothes are a big part of style, but they’re not everything. A tailored Zegna suit may be stylish on a surface level, but it won’t turn a malignant narcissist into someone you’re going to want to spend time with. The problem with people who think style doesn’t matter or that it’s superficial BS is they’re defining it too restrictively. Style encompasses the whole person, inside and out, not just the fabrics and scents that adorn them.
Here are some style principles I believe in.
Dress Like Your Authentic Self
The most stylish people radiate authenticity in how they dress and how they carry themselves. They wear what works and what makes them feel like the person they really are inside. Their clothes fit their personality as well as their body. The least stylish people, the people who make the biggest mistakes, do the opposite. They don’t know who they are, or they’re trying to be someone they’re not, so they dress inauthentically. They may be living in the past, unconsciously trying to recapture a look or a feeling from their youth, or the life they had when were 25 or 35. More often than not, this doesn’t work, and it screams insecurity. To me, good style means knowing yourself and experimenting with new things, but not trying to be someone else. It’s not an exact science, but to me, at a minimum, it means dressing your age, not jumping on temporary trends, and above all, not trying too hard. It means wearing what you like, what feels comfortable to you, and what you can afford, not what people think you should wear, or what’s popular or over-the-top expensive. It means pushing boundaries but also staying in your lane. If you don’t know who you are, or you’re trying to be something you’re not, chances are you’ll dress like it. Don’t do that. Experiment and have fun, but ultimately be yourself and dress like yourself.
Fit Is Everything
When it comes to clothes, the right fit matters as much as the clothes themselves. This is probably the biggest mistake that men make and one that I made for years: wearing poor fitting clothes. Just because you like the way something looks doesn’t mean it fits you or looks good on you. So you either need to not buy it if it doesn’t work, or use a tailor to make it work. 99% of the time the difference between clothes that look like shit and clothes that look great are the fit. So choose carefully and invest in a good tailor. What you shouldn’t do is wear something when it doesn’t fit right.
You also need to know what ‘fit’ means. Either ask a friend or research this online. There’s so much information available on clothes and style today that you really have no excuse. Baggy anything looks like shit to me. I spent years wearing t-shirts that didn’t fit me right, pants that were too long or too baggy in the leg, and off the rack suits that weren’t tailored right. T-shirts and polos in particular were a huge problem because I have broad shoulders so I need to wear a large, but I’m also 5’7″, so large shirts fit perfectly on the shoulders but are long on my torso and drop too far below my waist. Unless I tuck them in, which I don’t like to do with that style of shirt, I end up looking like I’m wearing a minidress. I hate going to clothing stores so I buy online a lot, and I’ve wasted more money on shirts that I thought would fit but were unwearable because of the length. Overlong sleeves are another problem, as is wearing clothes that are too tight, especially if you’re in middle age and have physical flaws that should be hidden, not accentuated.
Fortunately, a handful of companies have started catering to diminutive men like myself who have trouble finding clothes that fit without having to tailor everything. If you’re in this category, check out Peter Manning and Ash & Erie. They have great stuff and both companies have been total game changers for me because I can finally buy off the rack with no alterations necessary. (You tall fucks can fend for yourselves and shop normally. You already have every advantage.)
I do the same with suits and only buy made to measure now, not off the rack. You get the same quality at the same price and can skip the tailor. I recommend Black Lapel and Indochino, which are both affordable. I bought several items from the former and they’re pretty solid, although they recently changed manufacturers and it took forever for them to get my fit right on my most recent order. Get yourself measured by a tailor, input the measurements online, and you’re good to go. They’ll pay for adjustments afterwards if the fit isn’t exactly right. Otherwise, get your off the rack suits and jackets tailored so they fit you properly.
Find a Style and Stick With It
Finding a style that works for you isn’t an exact science, and it can evolve over time. I’ve had different style phases throughout my life. What I wore as a younger man I could not pull off now, especially shirts with patterns, words, or images on them, or horizontal stripes. No, no, and no. There are fashion websites and YouTube videos that provide a lot of guidance on developing your own personal style. But one thing that really doesn’t change no matter how old you are is color compatibility. Some colors look good on us, and some look horrible. It’s critical to know what these are, and it’s not hard to figure this out. It mostly has to do with your skin and hair color. If you can’t determine this by yourself, ask people. And be honest with yourself. You may love the color red, but it might look like shit on you. Accept this.
I know how I feel when I’m wearing an unflattering color. I’m really self-conscious, and it feels like I’m about to fall through a trap door. I hate that feeling. I can’t wear orange, light blue, yellow, or certain shades of red and green. They just don’t work on me and make me look awful. Neutral colors work best: gray, olive, and dark brown. My favorite colors to wear are navy blue, black, or charcoal gray. If I’m feeling frisky and want to branch out with color, burgundy, dark pink, lavender, and certain shades of purple look good on me.
I’m talking about main pieces here. Even though some of these colors may be discordant on a shirt or a pair of pants, I can easily work them into my wardrobe on a tie, scarf or some other accessory piece. Use a color wheel to combine color schemes. I don’t burn money on the wrong colors any more, and you shouldn’t either. Find your colors, and stick with what works.
Once you nail color, you can start to develop a wardrobe for different purposes. In an ironic nod to my father, my go-to outfit most days is a black or navy V-neck t-shirt with blue jeans, colored jeans or chinos, and Adidas Gazelles. (Yes, I too am Mr. Green Jeans on occasion.) This is what I wear most of the time around the house or when I go shopping. If I’m going out to dinner or on a date, I have nicer dress shirts and pants to wear. If I’m traveling, I stick to neutrals that I can mix and match because I like to travel light.
And shoes. Oh shoes. I love shoes. A lot of guys fuck this up too. Sneakers are fine for casual weekends kicking around the house or going grocery shopping, but if you’re going out, sneakers just don’t cut it. Invest in a couple of pairs of dress shoes, a black pair and a brown pair, and one casual shoe to wear with jeans. Women notice shoes, gentlemen. You don’t need to break the bank to cover your bases, and you’d be surprised what you can find on sale. I’ve used Cole Haan and Zappos for years, and I’ve also found some great shoes at Nordstrom Rack.
Recently I discovered something even better than shoes: dress boots. I just bought a few pairs from Thursday Boot Company and Beckett Simonon and I love them. Incredible quality and style at great prices. When you’re on the shorter side like me, the added benefit of dress boots is they have a substantial heel that makes you slightly taller.
Every inch matters, amirite?
Shoe don’ts: flip-flops and anything that shows your feet anywhere other than the beach or a gym shower. Stop doing this, for the love of God. No one wants to see your Fred Flintstone feet, guys. Stop. Dad sneakers. Running shoes when you’re not running. Birkenstocks. Crocs outside the house. Ratty sneakers in general. Wearing a dress shoe (or dress belt) with casual pants or jeans. (Wear casual shoes and belts with casual clothes, not dress shoes and belts). Combination dress shoe/sneakers that lean too far into the sneaker department, usually with a white sole. I have a couple of pairs of these and plan to get rid of them. They were trendy for a while, but now they’re everywhere, and I’ve come to hate them.
Your style can be anything. Mine is not yours. Maybe your style is closer to the Army-Navy store, weekend hiker, or sports enthusiast. That’s cool, whatever floats your boat. Just do it right and remember you can’t wear the same thing everywhere. Location, occasion, and use case matter.
Buy Quality, Not Quantity
Finding a style that works for you allows you to buy quality over quantity. If you’re like me and not buying trendy and adjusting your clothing style every five minutes, you can do this and save a lot of money. I buy quality clothes and hold on to them for years. Like 10 years sometimes. I lean towards classic, monochromatic, and unflashy. I dress my age. I don’t wear patterns other than on a few dress shirts and ties for work. Nothing with words or oversized logos on it, except a few sports or 70s TV shirts that rarely leave the house. My clothes fit and my weight doesn’t fluctuate very much, so I buy quality pieces and hold on to them for a long time, as long as they’re not too worn out and still hold their shape. Anyone can do this. Loving clothes doesn’t mean you need to spend a ton of money every year if you buy quality and classic styles that don’t change every 10 minutes.
Groom Yourself
This should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. Bathe regularly. Cut your nails. Get a manicure or pedicure once in awhile. Shave. Trim your beard or mustache. Don’t forget your nose and ears. Manscape. Floss. Go to the dentist at least twice a year. Keep your hair clean and manageable. Shave it off if it starts leaving you. Times have changed. Walking around like a stinking, knuckle-dragging Neanderthal is no longer acceptable in today’s society. So groom yourself.
The Nose Knows – Wear a Signature Scent or Two
One of the easiest things a guy can do to instantly up his style game is to find a signature scent to wear. Too many men ignore the sense of smell and treat it as a disposable. It’s not. Smell is an added dimension to style, sex appeal, and projecting your best self. The right scent on a woman drives me crazy, and the same is true for men. I should probably keep gatekeeping this subject, but fuck it.
Start by visiting a department store near you. Go to the fragrance counter, parry the overaggressive sales ladies who want to douse you with every bottle on the shelf, and try out some scents. In fact, forget the big department stores. Start with Sephora, where no one will bother you. There’s a small men’s section in the back with three dozen or so bottles on the shelf that you can try out to get your feet wet. Almost all of them are affordable. Figure out what scents you like, write them down, or take pictures of the bottle with your phone. Then LEAVE. Don’t buy anything at these stores because you’ll get gouged. I made this mistake twice and never did it again.
Instead, buy what you like at reputable online fragrance retailers, which offer massive discounts off of retail prices. Here are several that I’ve used and recommend:
Don’t buy from places you don’t know because then you risk buying a fake. Unless you’re reasonably sure you’re going to like a scent, don’t blind buy anything (buy something without smelling it first). You can buy cheap samples of scents from the following sites:
Buying $2 or $5 samples of scents I wanted to try has saved me a lot of money because more often than not I don’t like them. Fragrance is SO subjective. Just because a scent is popular or every influencer is telling you it’s great, doesn’t mean you’re going to like it. Everyone has a different nose and different scents they find attractive. Even at a discount, fragrances are expensive, so buy samples and try them first.
You only need one or two colognes, one for warmer months and one for colder months. Learn how to spray properly (don’t overspray), and they will last you a long time. It’s worth the investment.
Last point: once you start down this fragrance road, it can become quite addictive. Especially if you have an addictive personality like me. I don’t get passionate about a lot of things in life but when I do, OOOOF, I’m off to the races.
Stick to your budget, and please don’t let this happen to you:
If this does happen to you, it means you’re an addict, and you should seek psychological assistance immediately.
Eat Healthy/Be Healthy
We control what we eat and put into our bodies. We control how we exercise our bodies. We feel better when we feel good about our bodies. Clothes look better on us when we’re in shape and give us an ‘extra’ that doesn’t exist otherwise. So without being a Nazi about it, eat smart, eat healthy, and indulge only once in a while not every meal. Exercise regularly. All of these are part of style–a LIFEstyle.
If for some reason it’s difficult do do these things, either due to one’s age or physical/medical limitations, then shop wisely. The right size and cut will hide a belly or other flaws. The right color combination will make a large person look slimmer. If you’re short like me, no horizontal stripes. Vertical only (or preferably no stripes at all). There are workarounds for all body types.
Rock What You’ve Got
We always should strive to improve ourselves, but no matter our shape or physical condition, ultimately we should love and embrace who we are and what we look like. This is stylish too. Confidence and self-acceptance are as stylish as it gets.
Not everything is changeable. As my mirror tells me each morning, Time takes its toll on all of us. So work what you have, and do it with pride. Don’t apologize for it. I used to have a beautiful head of hair when I was younger, and one of my regrets is that I didn’t maximize my physical qualities socially because I lacked the confidence to do so when I was at my peak physical attractiveness. Now I’m way more confident because I know who I am and what I want out of life, but my hair is gone and I’ve got lots of white in my beard.
That’s how life works, people. Beauty is wasted on the young. Now I rock what I have. All these dudes flying to Turkey for hair transplants and coloring the white out of their beard to look younger, and I’m here shaving my head every other day and watching my beard get more and more white with each passing year. I work on improving the things I can improve–my body, my diet, my mental state, and my passions in life–and I leave the rest to time and the multiverse. I guess one of my styles is aging as is. I know this approach is not for everyone, so no judgments on anyone who’s doing things differently, but this works for me.
No matter which approach you take, love yourself. Love who you are and what you look like. Improve what you can but forget the rest and rock what you’ve got. We all end up in the same place, after all.
Nail Your Accessories
A nice watch, scarf, or carry bag (aka man bag) can elevate one’s style to a much higher floor. I have a nice Panerai I bought myself on my 34th birthday but with the advent of smartwatches, I only wear it for special occasions. Most days I wear a Samsung Ultra because I love how it tracks my activity and reminds me not to be sedentary. Some guys are really into watches and don’t mind dropping three car payments on a Rolex or a small mortgage on a Patek Philippe, but I’ve always viewed super expensive watches as ostentatious and too tempting for a mugger to knock you the fuck out. I’ll stick with my Panerai and upgrading my smartwatch until I’m too old to need it any more.
Carry bags/man bags almost require their own post for me. I hate carrying things in my pockets, so I own a stupid amount of them. It’s embarrassing. I’m constantly on the hunt for the perfect bag, which is a sign of another addiction. In any case, these things really stand out if you use them, so shop wisely. There’s a big fashion debate over whether grown men should still be using backpacks, – I see no problem with this and own several, but for specific purposes, like carrying my camera and lenses, hiking, and shopping on weekends. The rest of the time I carry an Aer sling. I have three different sizes, and believe it or not, I use all of them depending on how much shit I need to carry. If you want to shop around and get your feet wet, check out Carryology and Chase Reeves, who’s a demigod on the subject. Just don’t blame me if you get addicted.
Read and Get Passionate About Something That Isn’t Your Job
Enough about the physical. Style is more than just about how one looks. It’s also about personality and how one comes across to people. A good-looking, well dressed, great smelling person who’s boring as fuck may have a stylish chassis, but they’re not stylish under the hood. The engine matters too.
Stylish people have opinions and life experience. They have something to say, and they know how to engage in conversation on any number of subjects. They don’t just talk about themselves. They’re curious about people and the world in general. They’re open-minded and willing to change their views based on new information or a different point of view they find compelling because they actually listen to what someone is saying.
One way to develop this part of one’s style is to read. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become really attuned to how well-read people are. You can always tell if someone reads because their opinions are grounded in something concrete, not something they were spoon-fed on television or pulled from a headline. People who read come across as deeper and more interesting than people who don’t.
So read. It doesn’t matter what it is. Magazine articles, news, travel, or political websites, books, fiction or non-fiction, novels or short stories. Reading is stimulating and contagious. It teaches a person new things and creates a baseline for a conversation. Reading conveys depth, intellectual curiosity, patience, and a long attention span, and this comes through in conversation. To me, it’s attractive as fuck and something to strive for in myself.
Stylish people also have passions. It could be sports (for a lot of men it’s just sports). It could be hunting, guns, politics, economics, travel, stamp collecting, languages, UFOs, military service, or any number of hobbies. Like reading, passions are indicative of deeper layers to a person. I love it when I hear someone talk about something they love or they love doing, and I couldn’t care less what it is. It could even be something I dislike and would never want to do myself, like hunting, crocheting, or skydiving. Hearing someone discuss a hobby, subject, or activity they’re passionate about is incredibly attractive and stylish to me. Conversely, people who have no passions or interests, or people who can only talk about one thing, like their job for example, bore me and don’t come across as stylish at all. Anyone whose job is their entire identity is often too one-track and tunnel-visioned to be considered stylish because they’re only capable of discussing one subject for an extended period of time. If you bring up something else, they’ll always steer it back to what they know best. That’s not stylish to me at all.
The world is a big place. We should have more passions than just what we do for a living. Stylish people do.
Learn How to Cook a Decent Meal or Two
This is still a work in progress for me, but knowing how to cook a good meal for someone is also really stylish. There’s nothing more attractive than a man who knows how to cook. One of the few perks of my divorce is that it forced me to learn how to cook for my daughter, whose heart goes through her stomach. My God, you should see her face when I cook a meal for her that she likes. She’s so happy her eyes light up, and it makes me feel great. And it’s nothing fancy. We’re talking tacos, vegetable omelettes, stir fry, and certain kinds of fish. She doesn’t like my chili, so I rarely make that now. Knowing the basics of cooking and being able to whip up a decent meal is stylish as hell.
Potpourri
What else is stylish to me? Let’s go to the lightning round with some final quick hits on the subject.
- Speaking a foreign language. The more languages one speaks, the more stylish they are, but being fluent in a foreign language is beyond stylish. It’s hot.
- Adaptability and emotional intelligence. Not losing your mind when shit goes sideways, as it always does in life. Being cool under pressure. Adapting to changing circumstances on the fly like James Bond. Emotional regulation is next level style, one that I haven’t hit yet myself but am working on.
- A good sense of humor. Funny people who can see the humor in everything, laugh in the face of adversity, and convey their thoughts with wit and intelligence are stylish AF. This includes self-deprecation and being able to laugh at oneself. That shows confidence, humility, and to me, good style because it’s authentic.
- Showing kindness and grace when it’s not noticed or required. People who are kind and empathetic when they’re getting nothing in return, or when no one is paying attention, are stylish to me. It has to be genuine though, not artificial and performative.
Ultimately, good style is in the eye of the beholder, but most of us know it when we see it. These two said it well, with far fewer words than me:
“Fashions fade, style is eternal.” —Yves Saint Laurent
“Style is the only thing you can’t buy. It’s not in a shopping bag, a label, or a price tag. It’s something reflected from our soul to the outside world—an emotion.”—Alber Elbaz
