A SIDE
Mens
Fashion Week in Milan!
As
expected, the big name men’s brands have released another round of $5,000
shirts that can be found at your local goodwill! Do the people at Missoni and
Salvatore Ferragamo just dig through the dumpsters behind the GAP and let the
clothes age for 5 years like a fine wine before releasing them to the public?
The Prada show was good, Moncler had cool socks, but pretty much everything
else bored me to death.
Malibu 1992 SS18
Probably
the most intriguing menswear collection I have seen in some time is the Malibu
1992 ss18 show. Dorian Gray’s second collection conveys perfectly what I can
only describe in my mind as ‘prescription exhaustion’. The models faces are
drawn, blurring the line between too cool to care and too dazed to even notice.
Rather large or misshapen suit jackets, some leaking snakes of fabric from one
sleeve, seem appropriate for either dawn or dusk. The opening look is absolutely
something I would wear without changing a thing, even down (or up) to the black
silk turban, brilliantly tucked into the breast pocket. I am also in love with
the print of the men’s shorts and women’s bathing suits, black and gold paisley
that looks like flowers that look like snakes. I could go on forever about the
beautiful shapes and color choices, (the outerwear in that perfect shade of
washed out yellow!) however the only thing that I wasn’t 100% in love with was
the hair / head accessory choices. I understand that the style just screamed
90’s west coast, and that only makes sense given the name of the brand, but
I would have loved a sort of chained headpiece (i.e. Christian Dada aw15). Even
so, I am left wanting a nice denim crop jacket and a trip to Chateau Marmont.
But
seriously, where is the fantasy? The Fullmetal Alchemist homunculi fashion?
Where are the styles reminiscent of Darkstalkers and Soul Calibur; Voldo, Ivy
Valentine, Jedah, Morrigan, Hsien-ko?
“Millennial”
is said to be the most overused word in the fashion world right now, so why
does/ has everything from the past few seasons in major fashion brands look so…
old? It is very clear that the
experiences and cultures of the target audience for these brands are
practically nonexistent in their development. Men are more open to nontraditional
styles today than ever before, why aren’t these major brands selling us something
other than the same drab khaki nonsense?
***
There
is a certain scene that I long for the experience of. One of the places I feel
it is at the Playground (formerly The Pier Shops) in Atlantic City, relaxing upstairs
in the heavy wooden beach chairs placed in sandpits against a giant glass wall.
Watching the sunset over the boardwalk, one of very few ways I find myself
enjoying a sunset, eating thin crust pizza and drinking lemonade.
I
feel a bit different in the mornings these days. It doesn’t take me all day to
get out of bed, and when I do get up, I practically spring up. Suggesting one
does not need alcohol to have fun often leads to ridicule from parties of both
the food and fashion world, but I have come to understand that certain moments
exist that can only be experienced to their full potential through sobriety. That
has less to do with drinking as it does with smoking cigarettes, but the two
pair undeniably well.
The
past few weeks of toying with sobriety has brought me back to some experiences
that I entirely forgot existed. Trust me, I very much enjoy having a smoke, however
the smell of a crushed blueberry is something that cannot be experienced fully
when tobacco clouds the nose.
I’m
not going to lie, I’ll still have one here or there. But it is such a freeing
experience to no longer be addicted; to stop letting something so small control
me. A little discipline goes a long way in realms of hedonism, and the
discipline to guide your thoughts leads to some interesting discoveries about
the power of imagination.
The
scene aforementioned at the boardwalk is similar to another one I experience in
my mind’s eye.
A
panoramic view of Chicago at night; the street lights, the lake breeze… there
is such a sense of peace about it. It is rare for people to correlate the concepts
of a city at night with peace and tranquility. It almost seems utopic, a world
that could be.
***
06.14.17
19:06
Zorba's
Last
week I had the pleasure of dining at Zorba's in Greektown, Baltimore. The venue
is small and all of the diners are local. The atmosphere is that of a strange
coffee house, bright blue walls decorated with awards dating back a couple
decades. The food is incredible; there isn’t much else to say.
Malamatina resinated dry white wine
Alcohol
content: 11% Vol
Acidity:
> 4.2 gr/lt in tartaric acid
Volatile
acidity: < 0.45 gr/lt in acetic acid SO2 free > 25 and < 35 mgr/lt
SO2 total:
< 180 mgr/lt
Potassium
sorbate: < 200 mgr/lt
Sugars: <
4 gr/lt
Density:
0.9930 gr/ml at 20ο C
Polpo
Fried eggplant
Lamb chops, softshell crab, etc.
***
B SIDE
Coffee
wakes me up. I’ve been in motion for over an hour now, but it’s the coffee that
wakes me up. I spill chocolate milk on the floor instead of in my coffee.
This
breakfast makes me want to have beach plans later today.
I
want to win the lottery. The magic and madness that would ensue excites me. I
also wish the world peace, when our leaders are ordering acts of destruction
and horror. They cannot control everyone. Knowing this brings me comfort.
I’ve
noticed people frowning at me a lot more lately. For many it seems to come from
a place of pity, as if I am an urchin of some sort. Those stares are like music
to me. A grand symphony of judgement.
***
I
made a really simple 5 ingredient tomato sauce to have with some gnocchi a few
nights ago.
A few Roma tomatoes, olive oil, red onion, white wine, fresh basil
2015
Chateau Ste Michelle Riesling from Columbia Valley, Washington
I
walked into the store and decided to take a gamble, picking the first bottle
that stood out. It reminded me a lot of Vinho Verde; super fragrant, slightly
fizzy, smells of joy and cheer and white cherries. That ‘candy watermelon’
flavor I love so much, without any of the sweetness.
Roasted potatoes
Roasted potatoes, parmigiano, egg, mascarpone, flour
Gnocchi, swiss chard, tomato sauce, parmigiano
***
Sometimes
I just feel very adrift. For brief moments I get a little lost. I get a little
upset at the world. I find myself green
with envy of people with more time, more money, and easier jobs.
I
am well aware that having everything handed to you never gives you the chance
of understanding the value of achievement, but mostly I feel this towards the
concept of pressure making a diamond out of coal. But where do we go from
there? Seemingly only uphill but what does that even lead to? What difference
does it make to fight and struggle and eat shit for years to just die? Like
everyone before, leaving behind perhaps a few quotes, maybe some notable works,
and a name.
I
feel very out of place because of how I view the world and, as unimportant as
it is, how the world views me. I’m only ever interested in the thought process
of others to better navigate this maze on a daily basis. I often feel as though
I am labeled as being rather effeminate, notably by people who lack confidence
in their own identity the most. To anyone who just might have an issue with me
proudly expressing femininity, I guarantee you that I am more of a man than you
will ever be.
I
often wonder when I became so jaded, and why practically everyone close to my
age is either married, has children, or is in some sort of standard ‘human’
relation.
I
don’t want to have intimate relationships with trees. I don’t want to have
intimate relationships with fences or roller coasters either, but some people
do. I am an adult male who has had relationships with both men and women, and
yet somehow I don’t feel particularly drawn or attached to either. I don’t feel
anymore and it frightens me from time to time that I cannot feel. To say that I
never want another relationship wouldn’t be true, but just after a few moments
of consideration I immediately find that I’m no longer interested. Are my
standards too high? Am I really that shallow?
I’ve
always thought that being shallow was more of a physical thing, something that
I find myself the farthest thing from. What I find attractive is body language.
The way someone walks, the way they carry themselves; the things that make them
uniquely themselves, not whatever aesthetic (as intriguing at it may be)
they’ve adopted. Outside of words, outside of appearance, these are practically
the only things that humans do to truly differentiate themselves from one
another.
Sometimes
I think I’m chasing a dream that doesn’t exist. I worry that I am not
progressing fast enough, and that the only reason I’ve made it this far in my
career is because I’ve always felt that too much effort has been put in to stop
now (whenever random times along the line that ‘now’ has been over the years).
I worry that I’ve blindly followed leaders who rarely consider my existence to
lead me to some sort of victory or finish line. What is it that I’m even moving
towards other than the grave?
I
understand that once I die, my existence as ‘Dominic’ is complete, and that
whatever it is that makes up this meat car I roam around in everyday will
decay. The rot will return to the finite amount of matter on the earth,
recycled back into anything and everything around us at any given moment. But
what of the consciousness perceived as my existence, or vice versa for that
matter? Have we really fooled ourselves into believing that our sensory intake
makes up some sort of ‘being’ or ‘spirit’?
Society
is all of our parents, and it teaches us from birth to be ‘people’, to walk, learn
some words, wear clothes, eat with utensils, learn some more words, poop, procreate, and die. Why are people who refuse this cycle of society
either cast away or silenced all together? Is it truly blasphemous of me to use
words learned through this process to paint a picture of the hamster wheel
we’re all on?
But
as soon as any of this is brought up or said in public forum, no one wants any
part of it. Mostly out of fear I think. They think that someone or something is
trying to deconstruct or destroy their world. I know for a fact that I am not,
because there really is no way to know if anything really exists beyond the constant
assault of our sensory intake from the phaneron. Most people on this earth are so focused on
painting their own imaginary little picture on the vast, endless canvas that
they fail to see the entire mural. Myself included.
Society
is a river of blood, and all we can do is spend our lives trying to enjoy the
taste.
Where
do we go from here?
