I'm eternally dissatisfied and it's exhausting.
And since we're talking about clothing style on BonneGueule, I'm going to talk about the dissatisfaction that my clothing style gives me. Maybe that will ring a few bells.
I am dissatisfied with my clothing style because I do not have a clothing style.
There are guys who only like dress shoes, for example. Even their sneakers look formal.
There are others who can't stand the sight of a shirt, whatever it is.
There are still others who feel full when they wear their rock outfit.
It's like that. But that's not my case.
My problem is that while I am sure of my dislikes, I am much less sure of my tastes.
So we could say that it's the same thing: knowing what you hate is defining what you love. Yes, we can say it differently: to choose is to give up, or rather! to renounce is to choose .
But when the dislikes are much fewer than the likes, giving up is choosing, but rather it is choosing not to choose too much.
On paper, there is no problem not choosing. After all, I listen to Johnny Hallyday, tINI,
And it’s also the truth: there is good everywhere.
I am like a butterfly that flies from flower to flower. Some seem more appetizing than others but that doesn't stop me from stopping at a buddleia, a hollyhock, a sunflower or a bearded carnation!
As long as it's good and nourishing.
My love is not exclusive! It divides infinitely.
You could say that I am a generalist . That I don't have a specialty.
If we come back to clothing style, even as a teenager, I didn't have any phases. I am the guy who has always considered everything with caution, tolerance, trying to tell himself that one thing was not better than another, that it was just a question of point of view, tastes and colors, gna-gna -gna.
A boring guy, in short.
I'm not the confident workwear guy who owns 5 Red Wings, saves for the next pair, and has a closet full of 15-20 oz denim that he chooses depending on the weather.
I'm not the streetwear guy who sees the denimhead as a has-been .
I'm not the techwear ninja who doesn't understand for a single second that we can still wear a tie in the 21st century! Etc.
In short, I don't recognize myself in any of the men whose extraordinary stories I told in 2018 .
But who recognizes themselves in this, you tell me?
Probably not many people because it is rare that we feel so in tune with a pre-existing style. And I don't really envy those who recognize themselves in it either because for me, we fall into a caricature, into a disguise.
In fact, it's more of a room scale. Or a room category.
Let's take the example of the moccasins that I own, you will understand. I have :
- A pair of very Ivy GH Basses
- A pair of very rustic Paraboots in a classic, almost workwear style
- One of Septième Largeur , a French classic à la Weston
- Another one from Bass , very fashionable, with commando sole and silver horsebit on the top
- A very refined Morjas Belgian loafer type.
Not to mention my black Paul Smiths with tassels. This collection stands out in every way!
Very different directions for the same category of shoes! And if we zoom out on all of my shoes, then the aesthetic disparities are even greater!
So on the scale of a wardrobe, we lose coherence. The aesthetic registers are so varied that nothing really stands out anymore.
But it's not just a question of aesthetic register, it's also a question of cuts! I have more or less slim clothes in my wardrobe, tapered pants, straight, medium sizes, high waists. I'm too lax about cuts. I know what suits me overall but I'm not too picky.
Year after year, I see that my wardrobe is falling apart. It collapses as it builds. It is like a house with a wall of stone, one of wood, one of cement and one of brick.
Suddenly, it becomes impossible to really define yourself . We need to put up labels. Giving names to things, objects, ideas, animals, in short to everything we perceive as a whole.
👉 Result #1: I don't have a real purchasing strategy to develop my style. I just have desires that I pile into an excel file and that I satisfy or not. Despite what I try to convince myself of in article after article .
👉 Result n°2: I am incapable of constructing silhouettes with a real identity . I mean, a long-term identity. We don't say to ourselves: "Ah, that's something Jordan could wear!" In any case, I don't have the impression.
The only visible identity is the one that my face prints, there just above the clothes I wear.
Classic?
Legacy ?
Casual-chic?
Simply casual?
Workwear-chic-casual-classic-heritage?
Sprezza?
So, we could still see a casual-chic continuity to all of this. But, “ casual-chic ” is a catch-all word all the same: a suit can be part of a casual-chic outfit. A workwear jacket too. A pair of sneakers obviously. Derbys too of course. Etc.
“How would you define your style?”, I am sometimes asked on Instagram.
The truth is, I don't know. I often drown the fish. I say it's a "random mix of everything and nothing". Or something like that.
I think what bothers me the most about all this is that I feel like I have a style devoid of personality . Finding beauty everywhere is expressing one's taste perhaps, but it is not expressing a clear vision of style .
And I would like to ask you a question: the people we remember are not those who, particularly through their style, express a vision?
We know the cinema of Tarantino, Spielberg, Truffaut, we know the painting of Miro, the photography of Stephen Shore etc. etc. Not that I aspire to consider myself a sape artist, not at all, but on my small scale, on our small scale, we can create our own little world in which we feel good and which resembles us .
I know very well that what I am exposing here goes far beyond the considerations of most people, whether they like to dress or not.
Most see no harm in appreciating clothing of very different registers. They are not even aware of it! They wear clothes first for clothing and pleasure comes later.
And even if the pleasure comes at the same time, they see clothing as detached from their person, when they undress in the evening they are still themselves, while when I undress in the evening, I amputating a part of me .
Under these conditions, it can happen that we want this part of ourselves to be well defined, that we want to shape it, polish it well, so that it helps us define the person we are, to support our personality.
The crispness of clothing is when the outfit says more than what is expected of it. When, contained within him, a vision of the world emerges, a fantasy, a story! When the suit is bigger than itself!
Developing a true style means developing a vision. Life already. But also and above all what place we occupy within it. About who we are. Who we want to be. Developing a personal style helps us become who we are.
The question behind it is: if the whole world went blind and only you had sight, how would you dress?
Well I'll answer it: I would wear clothes with more character!
I would wear patterned pants.
I would wear tan suede jackets with fringes.
I would wear glasses with colored tinted lenses all the time.
I would wear oxford shirts of all colors, with big collars and loose ones.
I would wear old rock band t-shirts.
I would wear blazers with gold buttons.
I would wear wide jeans with Birkenstock Bostons.
I would wear crochet cardigans, or with a Native American pattern.
I would wear three-piece suits in heavy tweed.
Anyway, I'll stop there otherwise it will continue on and on.
Now it's up to me to find the right wide-leg jeans, the right Oxford shirt, the perfect fringed tan suede jacket. I let go of the clothes I own quite easily because, deep down, I know that there is always something wrong and that they never really fit me.
I spend my time making concessions on this or that design element. But it's over.
The key is to be firm on certain points (the cut, design details depending on the piece) and to let go on others (the material if not important in the piece, design details depending on the piece). etc.).
Whether I like it or not my vision of style is that of a happy mess! I'm like that, I'm attracted to a double-breasted suit and the next moment I'm drooling over a chunky Japanese denim jacket.
So, I present to you my new maxim: it doesn't matter what I buy as long as I love it. I guess that should be the first sentence of this sort of personal sartorial style manifesto.
So.
On the other hand, I don't know if my digression gave me any real answers. I told you that I was eternally dissatisfied...
