Marc by Marc by Mike

Today, horrified, I made alterations on a Marc Jacobs shirt.

Handwriting | Hero

"Cecil was given an accounting job, but his mathematics was so poor and his handwriting so unsuited to the task (having been stylized from the age of 5 in imitation of Lily Elsie's) that at the end of a month a new man had to be hired to find Cecil's mistakes."

From the book, Beaton -by James Danziger

Men In Skirts | Memorable Wag | Enjoy An Updraft | Share

I think about men wearing skirts a lot. Its rare when a gentleman treats the garment like any other. As designers forge ahead adding a piece or two into a menswear collection, or even make it their soul mission to implement the skirt as a male standard, its still a scarce occurance on our American streets. And, apart from being privy to female impersonators, transvestitism, and unsightly Halloween costumes or party gags, I can recall two distinct moments where I have seen a man wear a skirt (not a kilt, not a sarong, a skirt) in public.

The most memorable of the two happened when I was 17 or 18 years old visiting the Mall of America in Minnesota with my high school choir. As I roamed and avoided shopping for the day (c'mon...even then I knew such a monstrosity had little to offer) I saw the most beautiful young man in a skirt. By today's standards, he was goth; long straight black hair down the middle of his back, naturally pale skin, eyeliner, some simple piercings, a tight fitting long sleeved semi-transparent black shirt, and a full length black straight-cut skirt, worn with small, slim black shoes with a buckle on the side. In all honesty, it was one of the most compellingly beautiful things I have seen to this day. Aside from this gentleman's natural beauty (and the undeniable lustful attraction caused by a glimpse of him wagging beneath the skirt as he walked) it was not the skirt itself that was so powerful...but the strength and confidence with which he walked was most memorable...ultimately making the moment so potent. His masculinity wasn't compromised, his personal identity strengthened, and my eyes opened.

I thought about that moment constantly while I designed my last collection. I thought about it again last night when I chatted with a friend about men wearing skirts. And I'm thinking about it now and realizing what an enormous impact that guy had on me.

I wonder where he is now. I'd love to let him know that he changed the life of a midwestern kid in a big way, and permanently liberated my sense of what men can and should wear.

But what about you? When have you seen a man wear a skirt? I'd love it if you would share your stories.

"What the f#@*, dude?"

I'm sorry to leave this blog unattended for so long! I promised myself I wouldn't become "one of THOSE" who starts a blog and then disappears two months into it. No, not me.

More than that, I'm sorry to leave you with such a dismal post for so long. Tiff was right, I never should have done that. Though in the past week I have tallied up at least half a dozen moments where someone openly, actively, shunned or scorned my wardrobe.

Last night on the walk home there was the guy who shook his head in shame and said "Give me a break" as I walked by. Clearly, I was the one deserved a break at that moment.

During the post-football game madness in my neighborhood, I stood out like sore thumb being the only one not covered in Husky purple from head to toe. This, evidently, was equally as shocking to one of the purple monsters on the street as I passed and he laughed while asking "What the f#@*, dude?"

I'm not whining, mind you. This is par for the course, and quite minor compared to the crap I used to put up with in the midwest. Nothing could top the middle aged couple at a mall in Green Bay who stopped dead in the their tracks, covered their mouths and pointed and laughed at me because I was wearing a scarf. What IS it about these scarves? This is NOT a challenging garment, folks. Skirts, maybe. Scarves, NO!



Thankfully, all was redeemed at a cafe last night where the adorable barista took a loving to my belt buckle. She was delighted and amazed that I paid a mere 10 cents for it at a garage sale in Wausau, Wisconsin. "No seriously..." she said, "10 cents? What the f#@*, dude? That's awesome!"

Awesome, indeed.

A Recent Conversation | Fashion Victim | Scarf Bashing

Woman at bustop: Nice scarf.

Me: Thank you.

Woman at bustop: Not really!

Out of Order | New Kicks

In absolute contradiction to my previously proposed plan for dispensable income, I bought new cowboy boots today. And they're grey, not black. But boy do I love them!

I have no red carpet, only a red coffee table.