For the serious garbsman, there’s little worse than when some well-meaning soul asks if you got your new kit from H&M. Or Topman. Or Zara. Or, in this regrettable instance, Jack Wills.
When this Engineered Garments blazer dropped at The Bureau, mid-season, it sold out in three days. I wanted it, but, you know, sometimes you’ve gotta let shit go. Then it popped up at Norse Store. Immediately, I released the funds. Postyman brung it and I felt swag. Then my boo decided to hack me to death. With a long-handled axe. Made of speaking.
“Looks a bit like Jack Wills.”
I went to Jersey last weekend. I saw my Boo’s sis. At one point, I turned round abruptly. She was silently mouthing, “Jack Wills.”
Just to be crystal. This is not Jack Wills. I don’t know what Jack Wills is. I think I heard somewhere that it might be a high street shop – the kind of place where people buy garments with the name ‘Jack Wills’ written on the front, so other people know they bought their garment at Jack Wills. Well, this is not that. That’s what it isn’t.
It’s this season EG. It’s a sartorial passport to the land of envious glances from bros who know. See, dudes like me don’t exist on the high street. I don’t know or care what junk is pilling up in Urban Outfitters. And I don’t give a glass of piss whether it looks a bit like this. This is Engineered Garments. It’s an overpriced, fleecy blazer with semi-malfunctioning press-studs. I spent a lot on this. And I’ll probably get a good month’s wear out of it before I get bored. So seriously, who’s the big loser in this tale?
I’m not going to give up wearing it. I know I’m right and everyone else is wrong. I will rock this with the stubborn confidence of a man who everyone thinks is an idiot for spending a shedload on a jacket that looks like Jack Wills. I shall persist. And I shall win. A triumph of wills. If you must.
“I spent a lot on this. And I’ll probably get a good month’s wear out of it before I get bored.”
Nailed it.
This is my life, not sure whether I love clothes or love looking for clothes. No matter what I’m wearing, I feel a bit sick about what I’m not wearing.
Initially start my day feeling smug because I’m wearing something high street man doesn’t know about. By afternoon I’ll be pissed off when I realise I’m not getting the sartorial rispek I deserve…..chiefly because I’m wearing something high street man doesn’t know about.
This would never have happened without the fucking internet. Nice one science.
You are bang on – “Not sure whether I love clothes or love looking for clothes.” I genuinely enjoy wearing newer kit, and constantly mix in older pieces to give myself a sense of ‘getting value out of something’. But pretty much straight away, I’m back online checking the new drops. I try to look at as a hobby, some people spend loads on their cars, or the football, or whatever, I just spend on kit, that ultimately forms a collection. A collection of stuff, that by and large, is more interesting than, you know, just a bunch of sweatshopped high street junk. That’s how I mentally deal with the situation. But you’re totally right, sometimes the constant desire to own more stuff feels like a curse.