I want to look as cool as this guy. I mean, look at him. Drink in his insouciant way with pattern clash. Enjoy his billowing, rolled-to-balls trousers. Marvel at that brilliant red, full stop on his bonce. Ponder what he finds so fascinating about that wooden floor.
Japanese fashion bros always seem to just have it. ‘It’, in this instance, being an innate stylistic judgement, some kind of enviable textile necromancy. They just make shit look really good.
I don’t know how or why? But perhaps it’s got something to do with the origin of what this dude is actually wearing. And it’s not from Japan, it’s from New York. He’s in head-to-toe Engineered Garments. (Which to contradict myself in the space of a sentence, is sort of Japanese in that it’s by Daiki Suzuki, a Japanese born, American). Anyway, to finally get to the point… some of what he’s got on is actually Engineered Garments Workaday. It’s a capsule collection of workwear basics. The collection undergoes very few tweaks and changes season on season, and stands as a solid, unswerving, cluster of stuff that will make you look as good this dude.
To my knowledge, you can’t buy it in London. The Bureau in Belfast (a store I’m going to take a closer look at soon) is one of very few Engineered Garments Workaday retailers in Europe.
They do some pretty wonderful trousers – of the style I was banging on about a few posts ago. Not too baggy, but with a straight leg, that with a roll up, will provide that all important room, that (in the wrong hands) clownish vibe, which just seems so much more fresh than the slim, Italian style roll ups everyone’s wearing. I genuinely love this look. But I do worry that these trousers look seriously like the kit brands like Diesel were churning out in the 90s. If I was busting these would I look like a middle-aged, daddyman, on his way to rock Homebase for a trolly-full of satin nickle lighting fixtures? It’s a very real concern.
I’m not usually one for badges and obviously branding. But the little addition of the talking-point label on the lapel here… well, I’m all sorts of sold. It’s just small enough to be missed and just big enough for someone to ask you what it says. An opportunity to power-up my thoroughly rehearsed, faux nonchalant response – ‘oh, what this… oh… it’s er… oh it’s nothing, just a brand from New York I’m kind of into right now…” Pathetically, those moments make my life worth living. See, I told you I wasn’t as cool as the guy at the start.