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I’m not sure what else I’m actually about

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Gobble fucking gobble. Mark NcNairy’s stylings for Woolrich Woolen Mills’ SS15 look edibly good. Assuming you like the taste of cloth. And buttons. McNairy’s skill in constantly refining and reimagining workwear staples kicks up a gear here. There’s a bunch of shit I’d seriously consider masterminding a crime for. Nothing nasty. Just a bit of old-school, society catburgling. You know, dressed in black, knocking off some pearls from a safe, leaving a cool calling card, abseiling out the window. I don’t want to have to push any minor royals down stairs.

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Ok, forget the sandals and the clown trousers. But the blazer and hat combo is double-power. I intend to keep the bucket headgear rocking throughout winter and into next summer. My boo is less than impressed with this. However a plate of French Fancies and a re-watching of Steel Magnolias should put those flames out.

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Thinking plain skate shoes are going to look all types of tired by this time next year – London’s so oversaturated this summer, the style’s already looking weary. But the message-T, clashing up with the bold Scotchland vibe works for me. As does the lemon bonnet obvs.

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Now we’re talking. That jacket is liquid murder. The formal navy, the contrast buttons and the stupid sheep T-shirt – that shit’s saying, “don’t you even try to control me bitches, if I want to watch a Lifetime Movie about a multiracial foursome that results in jealousy and regret for all parties, I fucking will.” The struggle-a-like-Vans and the 1970’s curtain slacks can do one.

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That’s some kind of paralysing trouser. It’s where I need to take my look. I need to physically journey, with my look, to where those trousers are as soon as possible. Whether it’s appropriate for a brah of my years to be considering (or arguably, even be aware of) this direction in trouserwear, is a point so irrelevant I have no idea why I just typed it. These are what trousers are now. These trousers, literally, are trousers. You feel me?

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I’ve just shit my own trousers. But it doesn’t matter. They’re not these trousers. Which are a bit like the previous trousers only less grey and more sagey. Look at the breadth. Look at those giant pockets. I’m so about these trousers, I’m not sure what else I’m actually about.

That worky gillet is utterly banging too. It’s a good length, loads of pockets, zips and shit… I’ve been looking for one for ages. I bought one from Universal Works ages ago. When it arrived, it was so short and tight my family made me put it on and dance around the living room like I was advertising a bi-curious chatline. Actually, come to think of it, my family weren’t there.

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