I just found out about Fuck Yeah Menswear
via an article in Slate
I don’t think this makes me ‘on point’, but it means I have at least some tiny comprehension of who, or what is.
Go look. It is hilarious and terrifying at the same time.
My conclusion is: women’s fashion has died, along with Carrie Bradshaw and The Sex in The City Franchise.
And when I say died, of course I mean ‘has been murdered’. And we all know who the killer is don’t we?
Yes, he is better looking than us, better dressed, and more knowledgeable about clothes, style, language, music, showbiz, everything really. We may as well all just go round in sack cloths and ashes. Or kill ourselves. Whichever is less shameful.
Here is the kind of thing the modern metro man might be talking about, if he would ever stoop to talk to us:
‘Late last night I had a vision.
A world with no blogs.
Not even fucking elbow patches.
It was horrible.
In a world without swag how does one stunt?
How does one stunt in a world without swag?
A cycle perpetuated by clearance racks at Kohl’s.
The finest men of my generation.
Those known for the crispyest kits.
Those known for the sickest fits.
Those known for tweeting the most ridonkulous sample sales.
Those known for taking pictures of themselves in public restrooms.
Those known for reblogging the steeziest street skeezers.
Were suddenly different.
An entire generation lost in space.
You see what I mean? All that and he even knows Ginsberg.
Where is my .38 I am out of here.
http://howtotalktogirlsatparties.tumblr.com/ has linked to this post. I don’t know whether to be flattered, or scared…