Buckle up, there’s a new monster in the hizouse! Dropping on das ‘Gram yesterday, this patchwork clownshow made me cough coffee from my nose. It’s available over at Gloopi-Made — freaky name, freaky jacket, freaky fucking dancing. I don’t know where to start; there are four different cloths fighting it out; six different colours in the mix. It’s like a bowl of Asda Rainbow Hoops with sleeves. And to be honest, soak this thing in milk and I’d probably try and chew my way through it — buttons and all.
If the image above doesn’t wet your whistle, you’ve got no whistle. So polish those specs, lightly cup your testicles and let’s take a closer look at this beautiful madness.
I’ll tell you right now, you’ll need £282.65 to dance with this particular devil — not including the postage, import and proxy spanking you’ll take to get this from Taiwan to your door. If that level of mad papes causes concern, I bid you farewell. I will say though, if ever there was a reason to drop that little bit more, this kind of unusualness probably warrants it. You won’t see anyone else wearing this on these shores — unless the dudes at Manchester’s This Thing of Ours have a load on order?
The brand is Pallet Life Story, a Japanese outfit with the now familiar backstory of “special fabrics”, “traditional dyeing techniques” and Okayama manufacture. They do some lovely looking pieces, but this hodgepodge of greens, browns and bold yellow check is the stand-out. Sure, it’s unashamedly workwear, but I reckon that dressed-up (with trousers rather than jeans, and shirting rather than tees) it’d murder. That large checked back panel, straight out the Junya Watanabe playbook.
That I think it looks especially cool on the girl above will come as no surprise to those who read my piece about buying a woman’s cardigan. Although, just to bring you up to speed, the result was sadly suboptimum. Sleeves, shoulders, both fine. Body length, not fine. Not fine at all. Too short doesn’t begin to describe the problem. I looked like a member of a Mariachi band. It is now safely folded away in my girl’s closet and the great cross-gender knitwear experiment is concluded.