Being that “men” have become increasingly prone to docility as a result of their fear of “nasty women” that might further try to henpeck them to death with their words and associated outrage, it would seem that many are taking advantage of a certain trend in fashion initiated by a “bewildered” to what he was wearing Timothée Chalamet at the Golden Globes at the beginning of January and carried on last night by Michael B. Jordan at the SAG Awards. That being, of course, donning a harness as though an outfit simply wouldn’t be complete without it.
While a war of dominance and submission has long been the name of the game in the tacit dance between genders called, “Who has more power?,” it would appear, to the untrained eye, that this fashion trend is some kind of “win” for females. An unbridled (no pun intended) indication that “men” have visibly surrendered to knowing their place as the whipping “boys” of womankind. But delve deeper into the psychology of the trend, and it’s easy to see that this “dressage” is the final nail in the coffin of masculinity (of which there will likely continue to be many as all coffins should be sealed quite tightly).
Sure, “men” who don’t understand the complex mind of a woman will say that we cannot have it both ways: a hairy-chested “man” smelling of the natural musk of his sweat who can carry you over to the bed and a “man” you can control and manipulate as well. And this is why we now have “men” wearing harnesses in public instead of behind closed doors: we’ve let our standards sink this low. Accepted that “men” can only be complete bitches or utter misogynists and that to lust for a Goldilocks happy medium would prove futile. Ride him, lest he rides you and all that.
In these “modern” times, it’s a challenge to find anyone–“male” or female–that dresses on your level. More often than not, you’re lucky if you stumble upon someone who wears anything other than a snuggie-similar garment upon exiting the apartment. But for those who still actually put clothes on that have buttons and zippers, being seen in public with the garden variety schlub that tends to abound in this town can be a constant source of embarrassment. I mean, didn’t New York used to be the only U.S. hub of high fashion?
Further, when taking into account just how fey and feminine “men” have become ever since the term “metrosexual” was coined in 1994 and became a household word as a result of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and David Beckham, one would think that they would at least feel inclined to take greater pride in their appearance. But no, it’s just as Cher Horowitz said: “I don’t get how guys dress today. I mean, come on, it looks like they just fell out of bed and put on some baggy pants, and take their greasy hair—ew!—and cover it up with a backwards cap and, like, we’re expected to swoon? I don’t think so!” This is, however, apparently exactly what “men” expect, making you look as though you’re constantly dressed in a ball gown in comparison to their perpetual frumpery. So until you find your Jareth the Goblin King, you might prefer to walk the streets alone to spare yourself the trauma of being seen with someone sartorially unworthy.
Because the twenty-first century seems to be all about opening its arms to gender neutrality, the previous limits of “male” fashion have been all but lifted entirely (see: Oak). Case in point, the average Williamsburg “man’s” comfortableness with wearing a tank top–whether smooth skinned or not.
With the heat dome upon us all, one has a feeling that it might not even be safe to leave the house until Tuesday, as it’s pretty much guaranteed that going outside the confines of your dickful zone will ensure the sighting of an army of tank topped “men,” sporting shades of pink, peach, minty green and other such fey colors.
Understandably, a “man” wants to keep cool because he never would have had it within him to build the pyramids (where at least “men” went topless altogether rather than attempting the guise of a tank). But honestly, show the classic parameters of fashion some respect–as well as other people’s eyes who don’t want to see your soft ass body flapping about.
The only amount of time a “man” should be spending thinking about his wardrobe is the amount of time it took James Dean to put on a leather jacket. And yet, in Williamsburg, “men” seem to think the more money and effort spent on clothes, the more alluring he will be.
Spin that yarn
Such is the case with a new company called Boerum Apparel, which focuses on a “nerd core” aesthetic and “farm to closet” approach. If these two terms alone didn’t black you out over how dickless a “man” can be, then you must be missing a pulse (in addition to dick). The founder believes in “sustainable clothing,” which mimics that Portlandia episode where Carrie and Fred wanted to know everything about the chicken they were going to eat. But, truth be told, the less one knows about the food they consume and the clothes they wear, the better. It makes it so much more enjoyable to spend ten dollars on a t-shirt as opposed to a hundred just so you can be sure it was made by a white “man” in Williamsburg.
It takes a certain kind of douche to buy Ralph Lauren clothing. But it takes an even worse breed to make a Ralph Lauren purchase in Williamsburg. The opening of a store there lacks shock value in the wake of J. Crew, Apple and Whole Foods all being par for the new era Williamsburg course.
This “man” wears Ralph Lauren
What is shocking, however, is that any self-respecting “man” would allow himself to set foot in the location (poised for Wythe and N. 3rd Street) to feed into the new stereotype of what it means to be a “man” who lives in and/or hangs out around Williamsburg. If you really must deign to don casual wear on par with Old Navy products, at least have the decency to buy it online so that you might hide your secret shame until actually putting on the clothing.
To be honest, it’s bad enough when women shop at Forever 21. But more unforgivable still is when men do it. I mean, do you really need to buy that Nirvana tee from there, of all places? Even Urban Outfitters would be less offensive. Plus there’s an Urban Outfitters right by your condo if you live in Williamsburg.
Is this really the fashion statement you want to make to the world?
Moreover, if you live in Williamsburg, why are you worried about cost-conscious clothing? You should be paying $280 for a Paul Smith shirt, not $14.80 for something tacked together with children’s blood and string. So next time you’re at F21 “with your girlfriend,” maybe think twice about perusing the “men’s” section.
While I’m all for “men” embracing their feminine side (which they whole-dickedly have as the years wear on and Michael Cera continues to be leading man material), shopping at Zara is a real turn-off. Shopping there in general is not ideal for men, but specifically buying a suit displays a level of effeminateness that’s liable to kill any pussy hard-on.
Who am I? Where’s my dick?
With Urban Outfitters and American Apparel already open in Williamsburg, it’s just a matter of time before Zara barrels its way through, cutting off every remaining dick in its wake. It’s hard to know for sure what’s happening inside the mind of a “man” who picks out, say, a gray slim-fit suit from this establishment. If they’re going to a wedding, maybe they’re secretly hoping to get railed by one of the groomsmen. Who knows? It’s as mysterious as the locations Zara clothing is assembled in.
With summer in full swing, it’s no great surprise that certain dickless parties are proudly sporting their chinos. As the evil twin of Chubbies (though of course they’re both evil), the chino look is characterized by bright colors and a markedly flat front that doesn’t do anything to help reassure people that you have some sort of bulge where your junk should be.
Why showcase your lack of a bulge?
Williamsburg douche bag quotas must be fulfilled, I understand, but it would be nice to see a “man” wearing board shorts or even those weird European shorts that look more like pants because of how far past the knees they go. Then again, if you were a “man” with a fully operational genital unit, you wouldn’t wear shorts at all, no matter the weather.
Like most fashion trends, very few ever actually go away, instead being constantly recycled when it seems like they’ve been absent long enough. One such trend in menswear is the plaid shirt, doomed to haunt us all until the day of fabric reckoning.
The plaid shirt lends no personality, therefore I never actually “see” the person wearing it
This particular “look” is designed to make any “man” who wears it look as generic as possible. It is, in fact, to “men” what florals all to women. Because “men” can be basic bitches too, and often are if they wear plaid and live in Williamsburg.
As spring is upon us, it seems inevitable that certain “men” are going to start breaking out their Chubbies. For those of you with dicks who don’t know what Chubbies are, they look like a pair of shorts that would only be acceptable to wear in the 80s. They’re extremely short, usually come in unsightly shades and should not be worn by anyone other than Stef in Pretty in Pink.
The shortness is just wrong.
However, there has been an unfortunate resurgence of this 80s-inspired style that appears not only in the Hamptons, but also on the Williamsburg waterfront. I’m not sure where “men” got the impression that it was okay to showcase the tops of their legs (whether smooth or hairy), as this isn’t ancient Rome or Greece, where men were manly enough to get away with chitons and togas. In any case, avoid this spring/summer look at all costs if you want to keep your dick intact instead of showing what little there is of it through the silhouette of these shorts.