Not sure belts are really ‘the thing’ right now. The new ‘working cuff buttons’, for struggle suit wearers, is to not wear a belt – the implication being it fits so well, you don’t need one. And the whole, hanging-out streetwear, summer vibe means even mad-swag belts, are concealed beneath drapes of baggy cotton.

I don’t feel dressed without a belt though. Even if my popover, is popping over it. I like to know it’s there. But, like socks, ties and shoes, a belt is a opportunity for a baboonish steez-lord to stumble. To accidentally back peddle into a world of gilt, bejewelment and wack-embroidery. As though a mad-buckled, gem covered waiststrap is somehow the signifier of a champagney, big bottomy, stretch-limoy lifestyle. Which is, of course, mad impressive. Assuming you’re an underage Serbian prostitute.

I prefer to keep my beltage nuts and bolts free. I usually trouble Andersons for mine. Italian woven numbers in styles too numerous to list. Check the selection at Present. Believe – if you haven’t owned an Andersons, when you first pick one up, you’ll feel the heft and the quality and you won’t go back. There are few substitutes. Although…

I’m quite digging what’s going on over at The Hill-Side in NYC. Very simple styles, but punked with Japanese fabrics. These things are rocking leather trim and brass eyelets and buckles. Sure, each one isn’t gonna work with every look, and you don’t wanna be looking too matchy-matchy – but handled with care, I think these have got some play about them.

I like buying belts a bit long and threading the extra up and over, so there’s a bit dangling down. It looks devil may care. Roguish. You know, all loose and louche. Indiana Jones style. Like I’m in a hurry and I don’t give no fucks.

Thing is, I do give fucks. I really fucking do. I’ll spend 20 minutes getting the dangle right. And then I’ll sit on the tube and my shirt will puff out and I’ll need to try and tuck it back in without looking awkward and then I’ll adjust the belt again, and then it won’t look right and then I’ll start sweating and then, and then… I need to shut up now.