Now while This Trench may aide you in your persuit of becoming the posh, aloof wanderer tracking across the country preventing evil doing and pregnating beautiful provincial women, you must never pass by this precious rule:
Above the knee and you’re prim and pulchritudinous; below the knee and you’re parading pedophilia.
Don’t be one of those guys that shows up to a Christmas sweater party without a Christmas sweater because it would damage your “sartorial integrity” while that neon green and red suit combo hanging in your closet from your last summer campaign is screaming. No one likes you when you’re that guy. You’re own suits don’t even like you man.
So cop this instead. Sure you’re only going to wear it around Christmas, but you’ll be thankful for the season when you’re seeing Mrs. Claus every year.
He walks in with this jacket and these chinos and these double monks and he looks like a dapper motherfucker but he acts like a douche so the girls have dubbed the 10 square feet around him a “hazard zone” but every girl that rejects him only makes him more douchier and drunker and screaming “I got a 1000 followers on tumblr!” And that once excellent jacket now smells like appletinis and desperation.
The next morning I’m shopping to forget about this hangover and spot the same jacket and I decide to buy it because I want to believe it was him that got the rejected and not this soft leather and I wear it out and soon I see this blonde giving me the eye and I go up to ask her directions and the next thing I know she’s climbing out of my bed, wearing only this jacket and I’m giving her directions to my bathroom.
It’s cold as fucK these days. even your most dapper homies are replacing their sex appeal with thousands of layers from REI. You can’t fall victim to the cold or your homies’ pussy remarks about “frostbite” and “hypothermia”.
But you don’t have to fear, this peacoat is here. You can fight the cold away and still keep that dapper style she’s crazy about. Now all you have to worry about is all 50 of her layers off. Oh, and frostbite on your dick. That would suck. Really really suck. Be careful, my friends.
He was covered in denim. Denim jacket and jeans covering a denim shirt and even denim sneakers, but he hadnt shaved or showered in months and was carrying around a shopping cart across the Venice Beach boardwalk and that’s when I realized not only that he was homeless but the shopping cart was filled with garbage bags that were filled with the latest selvedge denim jeans and jackets.
He resorted to uttering a moaning scream at the street performers and pot heads that sounded like “free change, free change” and he spotted me and I was wearing this so I couldn’t escape him and ended up giving him change from a twenty I split by grabbing some famous Venice shitty pizza and he seemed generally ecstatic but started twitching let out a weird cry “I used to be a lawyer…”
And he strutted away with his shopping cart and that was the only time I ever considered buying dad jeans until I remembered the girl last night who told me how much she loved my Japanese imported selvedge jeans while she was taking them off.
You’ve must’ve seen the new James Bond movie. I didn’t, but you’ve been trying to figure out how to tie a bow tie since the movie was released. You saw that scene where he was falling a thousand feet off the train and thought “damn, where can I get that tie?”
And now you spend your days trying on Armani suits and searching for a voice coach to give you that perfect accent to not sound like fuckhead when you say your last name first.
You’re dead set on mimicking that James Bond swag like you have no sense of identity, hoping it might help you hook up with that cute temp on the 3rd floor. It’s okay dude, I got you.
He said I couldn’t wear sneakers with a suit. I was wearing sneakers with a suit. A navy suit and I was making fun of the people in my head i was introduced to that thought it was black in the dim lights at this bougie party.
And then my homie decided he was going to introduce me to her and she was blonde and gorgeous and not a guy in the room could keep their eyes off her and she kept eyeing my suit but her head kept looking down so I was tempted to say “my eyes are up here” but I realized what she was looking at and that I don’t have tits.
That’s when we made eye contact and she said “nice shoes” and I followed her into the bedroom.
There are men who deeply inbed themselves into the heart of the city the love, and then there are kids who scream “we own these streets!” Every night on Sunset Blvd in their daddy’s jaguar.
These are the guys who you pass on your walk of shame, sleeping on the corner of The Supreme store on Fairfax at five in the morning, hoping the newest collection will finally make them dope enough to get bitches. You feel me?
Instead, wear this for those nights you find yourself the only white guy at a party in Baldwin Hills like you belong there and not being one of those guys doing rounds at hookah bars trying to pick up girls you just finished finishing on.