sartorialism

lord knows why, but i've been fossicking around in men's fashion these last couple of days. it's pure aesthetic indulgence - i don't even have to consider what it might look like on me so i'm free to just appreciate.


i've been enjoying the cut of selectism's jib. it bills itself as a 'daily men's fashion, footwear, lifestyle and design culture magazine'. i would call it 'pretty things for boys'. i am especially enamoured of the damir doma hightops...


put this on is brilliant, too.


a "web series about dressing like a grown up", they aim to help equip men with the knowledge they need to avoid dressing like a manchild for all eternity.


in a friendly, straight-talking, no-a-pink-shirt-won't-turn-you-gay manner, they dispense wisdom on how to choose cashmere, why you need a belt that's not made of webbing, how to go shopping without once setting foot in a sports store, and where to get a custom-made bow tie.


(okay, they also make an occasional worrying foray into mancapes, but whatever, each to their own...)

in a quasi-related sidenote, i really want this florian rope necklace from oki-ni:


...santa?

anOther magazine's new 'loves' blog is also a honeypot of covetability...

and that is quite enough of that.

fix up, look sharp

i stumbled into an amazing photography exhibition at londonewcastle project space at lunchtime.

called 'gentlemen of bacongo' (and accompanied by a book of the same name), daniele tamagni documents in glorious technicolour the 'sapeurs' - men of the congo who, though they live in slums, revel in wearing handmade designer suits. new york times magazine explains:

The culture of La SAPE, La Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes, began when the country was ruled by the French and the local men began to adopt a little European flair. The sapeurs, as they are known, spiff themselves up with colorful tailored suits, fedoras and the occasional cigar — it’s more English aristo than Iceberg Slim pimp daddy.

it's the details i love best - the bright streak of a fuschia pocket square against a black breast pocket, the trilby, the impossibly expensive leather belt, the cummerbund, the glossy pipe, the single glove...


oh, and the best. sunglasses. ever.


the way these dandies strut and pose in their finery is incredible. it makes the dusty streets look like wonkavision.

if you're in the neighbourhood, go see - it's only on for a couple more days.

wow

this has to be one of the sweetest labours of love i've ever seen. when this talented illustrator realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with his best girl, he painstakingly crafted this question-popping work of art.


good work, mister.


also, apologies for the nuptial flavour this week. i find it as weird as you do.