Can you capture the dusty riddles of the American west in a trouser? Los Angeles denim evangelists, Dr. Collectors are up for the challenge. Even if the results are straight from a Baz Luhrmann remake of Paris, Texas.
How do you feel about jeans covered in embroidered cacti? A simple enough question, but perhaps not one you’ve had much call to consider. My investigations into menswear have revealed that most jeans tend not to feature large embroidered succulents. So in this instance I expect we’re of like mind — are we supposed to like these or not?
On the one hand I admire the boldness. I respect the boldness of creation as well as the boldness of the individual who’d feel comfortable wearing them. As an object they’re magnificent. I know the rigorous processes Dr. Collectors undertake to make their denim just so. And you can see the embroidery itself is beautifully realised.
On the other hand I’d feel like I was wearing a Road Runner background cel. But not only that, America, and the overt celebration of its lands and culture makes me feel queasy right now. I lived in San Francisco for five years and adored it. But I’m having a hard time disassociating the country I love from the Trump’s pestilence and the rampant idiocy of anti-maskers, anti-vaxers, racists, coal-fanatics and bible-thumpers. I’m just not in a very yee-haw place right now.
It’s the reason I didn’t buy a pair of those Autry sneakers over at Kafka. To me the stars and stripes feel poisonous.
Of course, this is just the way my flaky brain is working at the moment. I know generalisation is its own special idiocy. I’m sure these delightfully batty Dr. Collectors jeans will will be snapped up by someone less nurotic than I.