OBF

Gabriel sat with God in the waiting room of the family doctor. Things had gotten weird the past few weeks. First, God had taken up calling Gabriel, 'Gabe' like he was a bro or something. This was most noticeable to Gabriel but others had pointed out new oddities God had taken up. God was currently flipping through a People magazine and retweeting all of Kanye's tweets because none of God's followers followed Kanye too. God circa three months ago would have never done this. Gabriel wasn't even sure if God had a twitter account before then. "He's so witty," God muttered to no one in particular. Maybe to his followers, if they could hear him. Looking back, the first signal that something was seriously wrong with God occurred out in the fields of clouds when God was visiting one who had gotten past the pearly gates.

Steve McQueen revved his bike through the clouds. He had been at it for 3 weeks straight, driving around on this piece of cirrus. A white bearded man in a white bespoke suit waved at him from a ways away. Steve drove over and cut the engine. God smiled as Steve looked at him from his bike. "Hey Steve. What's up?" God grinned. Gabriel stood behind God looking confused and holding a vintage rucksack with a MacBook in it. "I was wondering if I could talk to you, just for a bit," God wore a grin that would shame a cartoon cat. "Is this about the noise? God, I told those people that if they wanted me to, I'd ride on the next cloud over," Steve stammered nervously.
"No, no, no, actually, I was wondering if I could get an interview."
"A what?"
"An interview. Y'know, about the Barbour coats."
"The what?"
God looked at Steve's white racing jacket and muttered under his breath, "crispy, is that a collab?..." Then he looked up and exclaimed, "oh, well you don't know then, do you? I had assumed you had gotten the press release, but I guess they only sent that to bloggers. Well, your kid licensed your name for a Barbour coat line. They've even put your face in the lining of some of the coats." God whipped out his Mac and showed off the pictures. Steve wasn't sure what to make of this. He was dead, who cared? "Well, I mean, he own's the na-" Steve was abruptly cutoff as God's Mac made a chirping noise and God erupted into obnoxious laughter. "Gabe, Gabe, you gotta' see this video. HARHARHARHAR! Oh man, that's just outrageous!" Gabe smiled awkwardly, not really sure what God was laughing at. "Oh man, oh man, I gotta' email this to Steezus! HAHAHAHA!"
"Who?" asked Steve and Gabriel in unison.
"Y'know, Steezus. Steezus Christ."
"You mean Jesus, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, Steezus, Jesus, same thing..."
"Well," Steve started, wanting this interview to end immediately, "he's my kid, and I guess he can do what he wants."
God grinned at Steve, showing off his pearly whites, and said, "Good, good, I'll post that right away. Hopefully I beat everyone to the punch."
God walked away with the computer open, posting the interview to his wordpress and tumblr, absorbing images from a new Vatican and Filson collaboration, and asking Gabriel his credit card number so he could order something from Unionmade.

The doctor looked up from his paperwork that he was filling out and asked Gabriel if he would like to step outside to talk. Gabriel obliged, leaving God to fiddle with the pockets on his sportcoat he forgot to cut open. "It's not good, " the doctor said in a hushed tone, "there are no meds out yet for this, but there are a couple things you can do that would help."
"What has he got, doc?" Gabe - I mean Gabriel - asked.
"OBF, and it's bad."
"What's OBF?"
"Obnoxious blogger fuck"
"Is it curable?"
"No, but here's what you can do. First, empty his checking account, if he doesn't have any money to blow on stuff he won't be able to talk about it on the internet. Second, tell his friends to not @GOD on his twitter. It just feeds his ego. Third, tell him he looks metrosexual every day, three times a day. God willing-" the doc paused to snicker at his own wittiness, "we should be able to keep OBF at bay for the next few years, at least until we find meds that work."
"Thanks doc," as Gabriel gathered himself and prepared for the trial that the next months would bring.
God, sitting in the examination table, thought about how the whiskers were coming in nicely on his raw denim, unaware of the changes that would be coming.

Sockless Footwear: A Menswear Blogger's History

In case you didn't know, I spend a lot of time reading your posts. Yes, you, the guy who takes pictures of your shoes, shirts, coats, (hopefully not) your penis, and your watches. I have been for some time. Anyway, like anyone who reads a lot, I begin to make connections. And from those connections I present you "Sockless Footwear: A Menswear Blogger's History". Don't worry, it's quite enlightening.



Boatshoes were the shit in '08-'09. Comfortable and slightly more classy than flip-flops, you wore them to hide the fungus that grows on your toes. You wore them sockless because, well, it's what you did. You got quite a bit of mileage into them before the streetwear kids found the boatshoes in all sorts of wacky colors and totally ruined your gig. Tough, now onto new uncharted territory (oh wait, JK, it's not new at all).



You found pennyloafers in photographs archived by the LIFE website, you x'ed out of the photos of dog afterbirth you were sending your girlfriend to explain why you shouldn't have a kid, and pulled up Zappos to order a pair of Bass plastic loafers. Well, that or you saved your dough and bought a pair with real leather. While boatshoes were cool, these shoes served you better '09-'10. Mainly because the hardbottoms do not melt like rubber when you stamp out flaming bags of shit on your front porch as the jocks from your old high school roar by in their '69 Mustang and one leans out the window, yelling, "QUIT WRITING ABOUT SOCKS, YOU FUCKIN' FAIRY!" While useful for this, pennyloafers also get quite a stank from this. '10-'11, time for something new.



In your new tassle loafers, you couldn't give a shit about the flaming bags of shit on your front porch. You mortgaged your house and bought a Porsche so when you drive by the old high school jocks you can flip them off and snort the mucus back into your nose disdainfully. The leather has achieved a rotten looking patina from all the alcohol you've spilt all over them. You and your new shoes don't give a dear a damn. You've dumped your girlfriend (what kind of person says that dog afterbirth is cute?), you blow your dough on tailoring your parkas and premium gas, and you sit at home and watch PBS murder mysteries. ADG knows whats up when it comes to MYSTERY! on PBS. Wait, hear that, it's the door bell. Time to snuggle up, the UPS man is dropping off the box set of Miss Marple Murder Mysteries. Wear your tassle loafers, they're what's up for '10-'11.

Photos robbed from:
DD
IS
UP

Amongst Friends

Can't say I've heard of this brand until today, and then, only by stumbling upon them via internet sale. They've probably had product featured on hypebeast but let us be honest, most of us don't follow that in the first place. Amongst Friends is a mishmash of menswear references with quality that I have no experience with and internet digging reveals little. So I don't think we're talking about handing it down to your kid's kids quality. That being said, it's nice to see what this brand did to make their product different. Some of it I've seen before, but some I haven't. Marketing to street-wear kids seems like the route they've been going, given their looks from the book. But there's no reason not to take a look, to mentally file away for later. If you're like me, documenting stuff like this is half the fun.









Denim isn't even selvedge. Pshaw! How bourgeois!



Dumb pants are dumb.



Flannel lined with chambray...



... And chambray lined with flannel! See what they did there? Wait, you've seen that before?





If it weren't for the branding, this faux hipster picture shirt (OMG IT HAS THE RAT PACK!) might make it into my closet. Actually, on second thought, naw, no it won't.



If people would learn to leave their brand off some products...
If I owned a Ferrari...



If you can't afford a Filson and like unnecessary pockets.







That's tweed, apparently.







I don't know what's wrong with the model on the left. He was posing like a doucher the entire collection. He needs a good spanking.

Garbstore

Garbstore out of the UK put up their Winter Sale not too long ago. They've got that toggle vest everyone was lusting over, always have good jeans, classic and clean parkas, and plenty of other stuff up.







Check out that yoke. Something worth thinking about if your lumberjack impression is off just a hair.