The Jams

"You have five seconds to decide whether you're part of the problem, or part of the solution!"

" ...and now it's time to...

...KICK OUT THE JAMS, MOTHERF*CKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(you either get that or you don't)



(For any musicians out there, this video is equipmant porn. That's one hell of a pile of Marshall tube amps, and some pretty looking old drums)

I can't do adequate justice to a description of how important this record is to rock n' roll, but my acquisition of it does involve a good thrift story.

There's a store near my house that specializes in mid-century Danish modern furnishings. It's not a thrift store, it's a proper antique shop. The prices are very high, but the things they sell are works of beauty in perfect condition. It's almost like a museum. It's nice to stop in occasionally to see what they've unearthed, and if I ever build that white cube of a house in New Canaan Connecticut, I'll know where to buy that $8000 Herman Miller sofa to put in it.

One day I happened to dig through thier little collection of records. They were spectacular, one after another, and rare as hell. Every impossible to find jazz record, in like new condition, with the price tags to match. And then this glorious nugget finds me; price: $4.00

This live record by the legendary and short lived MC5 from 1968 is extremely hard to find, let alone on an original press vinyl, which happened to be a radio promo copy. All nice perks. But most importantly, there are no words to describe how great this music is. Sure, I know it's all out there to be downloaded into some silly digital toy for $.99 a song, but if ever a record jumped off the needle and out through the wooden speakers in all it's deafening glory, this is the one.

I brought it to the register with the thrill of someone committing a crime in broad day light. The proprietor looked at the price tag and let out a deep, long sigh. He said "do you know how rare this record is?" I answered "yes, but the price tag..." He cut me off: "it's your lucky day. $4.20, please".


Damn, I love this record.

Wear and Tear

People should take care of their things. It's the only decent thing to do. But there are times when a bit of roughness around the edges is the best medicine:

Recently we had a little discussion going on the merits of the classic canvas tote bag. I love these things. I have a bunch of them , but clearly this one is my favorite, and sees an awful lot of active service. Jammed into this little bag are two rolls of paper, a tube of drawings, a full kit of drafting supplies, two hardbound books, a bottle of wine, a gift for Mrs. G, a Stanley tape measure, a scarf and a pair of gloves...a fairly heavy load for a one handed carry bag.

Note the ragged state of the handles. The older and more beat up this thing gets, the more I love it. Buying things that are "pre-worn" or "distressed" is downright silly, but getting something new and wearing the hell out of it yourself over the course of many years is just the opposite, a mark of character.

Good thing I live in a part of the country where these admittedly purse-like bags are completely acceptable for men.

The Slightly-Less-Than-Rumpled Architect

Warning: This post may contain a fair amount of unrelated content, but since this is supposed to be some kind of clothing blog, here are the customary vanity shots for the day:

Repp tie, tweed, white oxford...a nice classic look.Punched up a bit with penny loafers and bright red socks.

Now for the unrelated bit: I think this is the first outfit that I wore to work in architecture. As of tomorrow, I am part of a four person team of students who will be proposing a few new designs for the expansion and renovation of the school library. It's a federally funded work study job, part time and tax exempt, running for the next ten weeks. Our supervisor is an award winning architect who cut his teeth in I.M. Pei's office working on the Mt. Sinai Medical Center in New York. This was also when they were designing the pyramid addition to the Louvre in Paris and the famous China Bank Tower. You may or may not now about architecture, but believe me that's pretty damn prestigiuos.

We'll be helping the library staff to reach a decision about how best to incorporate most of the floor below the existing library into their program. The final design will then be sent off to an actual firm to be tweaked and eventually built. Not bad for my "get your feet wet" position. Beats hell out of starting in the mail room, anyway.

The whole thing sort of dropped out of the sky at me. Thursday, I chanced upon a meeting with the man in charge of federal work study positions. We talked, he found out that I have a love of hand drafting over computers, and said I'd be perfect for this job, since the architect loves to work in the old fashioned way. Monday, I emailed him my resume. Tuesday night I got an email asking me to come to a meeting today, and tomorrow I'll be crawling around the fifth floor with a tape measure so we can get started on the "as built"drawings. So just like that, after two years of searching and only having one interview, I find myself working on a real project to be constructed within a few years. Best of all, the duration of the job coincides with Mrs. G's maternity leave.

So from now until the end of May, I'll be taking two classes, one of which is a studio, and living with a 2 1/2 year old, a newborn, and my recuperating wife. I saw a cute thing today that said "stress is when you're gut says 'no way' and your mouth says 'sure, no problem'". I think I get that now. Our supervisor laughed when I told him what was on my plate, and said something about how so many good architects have a habit of handling what ought to be too much all at once, so I must be on the right track.

Don't be surprised if the posting here grinds to a crawl in the near future. I'm sure you understand, dear readers.

(p.s. Before I get a ton of comments asking if that's a stain on my lapel, it's not. Just a bad photo.)

Pleasant Surprises

A couple of weeks ago, I found this belt for $1.99. It's cut narrow, just how I like them, and the leather is butter soft. Besides, my old brown belt has been with me for 16 years and was really showing it's age, so this was two bucks well spent:

This evening, as I was putting it away, I caught a glimpse of the nearly worn off label embossed into the back side. Turns out it's a Coach belt, an old one, presumably from the days when that brand meant something more than trashy label encrusted sneakers and cell-phone covers.Sometimes I turn up the good stuff by accident, without even knowing it. (Shameless bragging)

In other news, the new goofy tote bag from L.L.Bean arrived recently. The label bears another pleasant surprise, the magic words: Made in U.S.A.

I knew the boots were still coming from Maine, but I wasn't aware they were actually making the old "Boat and Tote" up there. It may be too bad that American manufacturing of quality goods is so rare that finding it prompts a gleeful sort of surprise, but the bright side is that of all Bean's many products, two of the most iconic one's are still being done right.

Bright Red Plaid

Yours truly, age three:
Just to show you all that I didn't just start dressing well yesterday.

I was reminded of this picture today in an odd way: This morning around 7 a.m., while searching the channels or Curious George for the boy, I came across "Mr. Ed". Remember that show? I used to watch it in reruns all the time as a small kid. I called this coat my "Wilbur Post jacket", because it looked like something Alan Young would have worn on that show. Come to think of it, Wilbur Post was an architect, I'm studying to be an architect....weird.

I think I might have hated that coat at the time, but I'd probably be wearing it this afternoon if it were a 40 regular.

Gourmet Hangers

Some people are willing to spend $24.95 each for wooden hangers to keep their suits on, such as these from the much lauded "Hanger Project". (these tend to be the same people who can justiy spending $60 for a fifth of vodka, preferred booze of drunks the world over).


Further proof that the rich are easily separated from their money by clever folks every day. For it is in the ostentatious display of excess that they can continue to inform us of how rich they are. But, to be fair, the Hanger Project proffers this compelling argument for the exorbitant price of their wares:

"What man of style wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to retire cardboard and plastic hangers with hangers that are not only beautiful but will protect and prolong the life of his wardrobe? Quality hangers, like shoe trees, will protect the life of your suits by providing proper support."

I agree completely! I'd even go so far as to ask "What man of style would even dream of using plastic hangers in the first place?" That's why I buy these jobbies in bulk at (gasp!) IKEA:
Wooden hangers, $3.95/ 8 pack. They are of exactly the same quality as the hangers we sent our clothes out on at Simon's.They may be cheap, but somehow (maybe it's magic) they manage to keep my clothes suspended from the pole in my closet in a very similar manner to the expensive ones. (Snark, snark, snark...)

And all this time, I thought I was being a bit snobby by simply insisting on wooden hangers at all.

In case you're wondering, the Hanger Project also offers a shoe horn for $15, which I'm told performs it's duties in a manner far superior to the metal shoe horn they give you for free at the shoe store.

The Country Gentleman Strikes Again

I've decided to roll with the "country gentleman" vibe for another day:

Polo shirt, Polo bow tie, Brooks Brothers cotton sweater, vintage Rogers Peet sport coat. ~$35 total.

Frayed khakis and vintage English Clark's chukka boots in green suede.

The country gentleman rides into the village on his Raleigh three speed bicycle. After negotiating the sale of some hogs, he enjoys a shepherd's pie and a pint of bitter for luncheon at the local pub before buying some fine silk ribbon at the habberdasher as a gift for the Mrs. and returning home for the evening.

Or...

I wore this into the city on my Raleigh three speed bike to complete some decidely mundane tasks, but I'll be damned if I didn't cut a casual-but-smart figure while doing it.

I like the occasional rich plaid sport shirt worn with a patterned tie. It's not always an easy look to pull off. The trick is balance. In this case, I cooled it down with the sweater, a heavy solid piece. All you see of the plaid shirt is a dash at the collar, and a whiff at the cuffs. Anything more would be too much.

Everywhere I went today, someone chuckled at me. It reminded me of being in high school. Back then, when they would try (unsuccesfully) to hide their derisive laughter, I would say something like "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a man in men's clothing before?"

When did we become a nation of teen-agers? Why is laziness respected and attention to detail reviled? (smallest violin again...I'm getting to be a virtuoso on the instrument).