I love fashion but I hate you.  what are we doing here?   What
are we doing here, people?  Seriously. Put your coffee or
Jameson or whatever it is “men” drink down for a second and
let’s have an honest talk. Why do we pour so much time into our
looks? Why do I drag out my laptop every week/month/quarter to
write a post for all my dozens of readers? Why do we attach so
much worry while attaching our mewelry? Why are all such huge
assholes over what is ostensibly garments meant to keep us from
freezing to death and keeping our genitals from flopping around?
What are we doing here, talking about clothes?  Unless, of
course, we aren’t talking about clothes at all. Unless all of
this showboating, snobbery, and infectious need for approval
disguised as blase detachment is really a deeper drive for
something else. Something grander. Something decidedly more
ephemeral.  I’m talking about manhood.  We peck at each other
about our sleeve length, or our choice of neckwear, or how this
guy or that guy is on trend, or is