Outlier makes clothes lumberjack fishermen would wear if lumberjack fishing were a start-up with series B funding. Functional, sleek, modern, durable, Outlier dares you to wear them through fire before wearing them to a dinner with the in-laws. I don’t own anything from them, but I like the idea that you can live, die, and […]
I’ll reason — or rationalize — the hype behind Flyknits
F.E. Castleberry agreed to an interview and answered these questions from, I imagine, the helm of his old clipper ship.
A brush pass is as basic as it gets.
October 9. A Thursday.
A few weeks back I internet met Jian DeLeon of Complex mag. Complex, for those of you like me who grew up before vagina pics adorned t-shirts, is a streetwear/menswear/music/culture/lifestyle thingy the likes of which was unforeseen by Judeo-Christian prophets. I met him through a forum (no homo) and badgered him into answering questions. “Peep” it. Who are […]
A quick interview with photographer Monsieur Jerome.
An interview with Jason Jean, photographer behind Citizen Couture.
A review of the Thom Browne for Neiman Marcus Target blazer.
El Solitario Coveralls GIMME
The sun set with the timing of a doting parent. Time to head back. Time to get home before it got too dark. We made a quick run for last minute supplies, skittering about like post-apocalyptic tribesmen, then hopped a cab back into the Dark Zone. Down south, the darkness runs thick. The line of […]
Dispatches from the Dark, part 1.
Thom Browne joins with Target and Neiman Marcus to go full retard.
Mr. Brown births a diffusion line: Mr. Thom Grey.
Rule number seven of being a private eye is never fess up to what you’re doing while on assignment, even if you’re caught pants down flaming lipped red handed.
It was the kind of question asked in a bad philosophical exercise. Now Maria posed it as plainly as asking where the toilet was.
“I’m telling you, baby girl had ass like whoomp. Couldn’t even see around it. Shit had fucking gravitational pull.”
The funeral was on a Thursday. The very next day, Justin moved to New York City.
“Mechanized Combat Task Force Sierra – Detachment 5, called ‘D5′ in brief, called ‘Dead Five” in grim brief, was made up of a slurry of men and equipment.”
Five hundred seventy million three hundred sixty two thousand five hundred ninety five…
To this concoction Candace liked to sprinkle in her own spice: the What the Fuck’s.