Warning: This article includes random rant about bad style.
Once upon the time there was no excuse for dressing poorly. And I mean not just casually, but badly and incompetently. This was a generation ago (or two, depending who you ask). The time when trousers were considered casual and jeans belonged to real cowboys.
I am wearing jeans while writing this. For my excuse, I am alone and I am not planning to meet anyone. But next week? I am going to Firenze, to attend an annual fashion show called Pitti Uomo. While jeans are part of the show even there, the colossal show four-day trade fair is known to have the most stylish crowd of all. More pictures about the rakish fair attendants are spread in social media, than about the grand catwalks. It simply the ground zero of fashion. And it is refreshing and very social media era like, that the real people are the center of attention and not some 17-year-old starved model.
Next week, in Firenze it is more than just ok to have style. It is mandatory. There is no excuse for trainers or poor hair cut. Call me crazy, but trainers should be used, - you guessed: when you train. The rubber boots are to be used when it really rains and you need to walk through a wet field. Not in a shopping mall when you are doing your grocery shopping, unless you plan to go fishing between the café latte and buying the bread. And it is common courtesy to have cultivated appearance when meeting other people. That is even more so if you are not cultivated.
The world seems to go in circles. About twenty years ago it was all about stonewashed jeans and Diesel ruled the world. Now in past 5 years more people have become more aware that the hipster look looks ridiculous if there is no authencity behind it. You simply cannot pull the shaggy beard and rubber boots look off if you don’t work in forest or outdoors, doing real manual work. Sitting in SoHo and sharing a work desk while eating a sandwich from Pret-a-Manger and wanting to look like you are going to chop some wood and shoot a rabbit, is just not real. People can see through it. It is just not like that I don’t like jeans. I love them and wear them often. But underdressing must stop. The same goes to Trumpism. It is simply bad style and even worse manners.
My name is Max Noble. I am an art adventurer, watch connoisseur and globetrotter, and I commit acts of nobleness around the world. This was my personal note about bad style.