I’m not a rocksman. I couldn’t tell you one song by Black Sabbath or Metallica. I only remember the name Judas Priest because back in the late 70s I recall it being used as an amusing expression of surprise. The kerrang of a guitar does nothing for me. And from a sartorial perspective I can happily live without ever experimenting with long lady hair (impossible in my case anyway) spay-on leathers and pointy boots covered with gems. All of which makes the appeal of this monstrously buttoned denim shirt all the more peculiar.
Perhaps I’m drawn in by the context. The images over on retailer Digital Mountain show a cool young blade wearing this with simple jeans, sneakers and a baseball cap. He’s pictured in a chic, minimalist interior. There’s no sign of a miniature Stonehenge. So I guess, it’s reclaimed rock chic. Headbanger-wear for the spectacles and Snapseed crowd.
Produced in limited numbers by brand Seven by Seven, this piece looks like it’s been boiled, dragged and assaulted by a gang of garlic presses. It’s been thoroughly roughed up – it’s been to hell and back so you don’t have to. Then it’s been button-fucked. I have no idea just how many buttons constitute a fucking, frankly I can’t be bothered to count, but it’s this many. It’s exactly as many buttons that are on this shirt. This frayed, torn and berserkly fastened shirt.
Within the context of the contemporary lap-topping cafe dweller I think this is wearable. It’d slot into a casual fit of Nepenthes, orSlow and Eastlogue pretty neatly – through such a lens it’s boho, it’s vintage, it’s a one-of-a-kind. But once you’re tempted to add a rhinestone Chelsea boot and a studded wristband you’re on your own. No mate, I don’t want a rollie and a mouthful of your JD backwash.