Proceed with extreme caution as leather sofas are often found on porno sets. No need to freak out your valentine when you bring her over with something that looks like it was used in Boob Lovers 9. Steer clear of the infamous black leather sofa. It screams Florida Panhandle and college! Keep it simple. For the best type of leather couches look no further than styles that date from Victorian era straight through to the roaring 20s. This window ranks as my favorite. It harkens back to the days of college eating clubs, football scrums, and afterparties that would make Jay Gatsby green with envy.
This modern-yet-classic piece from Design Within Reach will cost you a pretty penny, but just picture a pretty Penny sipping a dark and stormy with you while Miles Davis plays you into the morning.
There’s something about a gamine in a party dress draped over the arm of a leather couch that makes life worth the living. I also wouldn’t rule out a Mid-Century number (something from the 50s to early 60s), like the kind you’ll find in Don Draper’s office. Now that guy knows something about style.
Ours is a visual culture. One of uniforms – cops wear blue, soldiers wear green, hipsters wear skinny jeans. The uniform of the American grown-ass man is no exception. I remember back when I wrote copy on Madison Avenue, the guys who sold campaigns were the ones who shaved and showered with some amount of regularity and bought their haberdashe at J.Press or Paul Smith – sometimes people like the singer and not necessarily the song. Enter wool – the stuff emotes good taste, Savile Row pedigree, poise, and class. Wear one and see what I mean.
When I wear my favorite gun barrel grey wool suit on the streets of NYC it turns heads (handy with Valentine’s Day just around the bend). You get that wry invitational smile from women who are dressed up too. They appreciate the gesture, gentlemen. Wool suits bear a certain cachet and reflect a maturity and control. Presidents seem to sleep in them. So as NPH would say, “Suit up!” and pick one up today. Drop the “child” and “manchild” and get ready for the looks. Believe me they will come.
Messenger bags. To the urban man, they are a must. You need something for which to lug your stuff: the laptop, mags, papers (rolling or otherwise). You want something functional but not unsightly. As a man who drags his belongings around NYC daily and feels quite naked without it, I know from messenger bags. You’re done with school so skip the backpack, and unless you’re bundling investments into new-fangled securities on Wall Street, you’re best served carrying around something that doesn’t make you look an asswipe trying desperately to write the Great American Novel. Let me save you a lot of time and weird looks. Filson. It’s the final word in carriage.
Someone with a lot better taste than me gave me my first Filson bag and I am now a believer. Filson’s are built Ford tough and look great too. Durable, quick drying, and waterproof, they first became popular with fortune-seeking gold prospecters during the great western Gold Rush of 1849. They come with a lifetime warranty and guarantee looks of admiration from men and women alike. Bottom line, the bag makes you look like a stud. Most prospecters came up dry during the Gold Rush but at least they discovered Filson.
I don’t listen to new stuff all that much and I certainly don’t share this info with just any-ol’-body but here’s what’s on my playlist these days.
“Look For The Silver Lining” by Chet Baker. I have been listening to this tragic crooner since the 6th grade. Never gets old.
“Hungry Heart” and “Prove It All Night” (Bruce Springsteen) What can I say? He is the boss.
“Tumbling Dice” by Rolling Stones. Beatles teach you about puppy love. Stones teach you how to be a man already.
Nas/Jay-Z on “Black Republican”. perfect for winter days in NYC.
Ronnie Foster’s “Mystic Brew”. love listening where rap samples come from.
“One Step Ahead” by Aretha Franklin. Another awesome song that is often sampled.
“Black Rat” by Big Mama Thorton. Pound for pound the best female blues singer.
“Los Angeles I’m Yours” by The Decemberists is haunting. Awesome. Reminds me of a girl.
“Jackson” by Johnny Cash. It’s where my family is from. Reminds me of home. Kickass duet between Johnny and June.
“Beautiful Nightmare” by Beyonce. Don’t try to define me, dude! Seriously, who doesn’t love the single ladies?
Given all the things that are going epically wrong these days (war, earthquakes, an interminable economic morass), it’s important to remember to laugh at the grand carnival that is life. These movies are great to watch alone and or share with your good lady. If she’s not impressed, hang on to her, if not do what you’re going to do but you know you guys are a horrible match. So here they are in no particular order:
7 Year Itch: (Old School) Horndog husband stays in town and tries to bed Marilyn Monroe while his wife takes their son to Maine for the summer. Classic.
The Hangover: If you haven’t seen this already, I’m wondering what you’re waiting for – a signal from the man on high perhaps? 3 buddies lose the groom at a bachelor party. Hilarity ensues. And also there is a tiger in the bathroom.
Stripes: Sure it gets a little wonky at the end, but watching Bill Murray have categorically the worst day ever was proof enough for me that he belonged in the army.
Trading Places: Admittedly you need a degree in economics to truly grasp the end, but Akroyd is awesome as richie cast out of the country club and into the mean streets, while Murphy (at the apex of his talents) is a non-stop laugh riot.
Precious: Kidding. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.
When Harry Met Sally: Sparse, simple, and touching. But let’s admit, Reiner totally looked over Woody Allen’s shoulder on this one. Brought the classic nebbish (Billy Crystal) in the hunt for his schicksa goddess (Meg Ryan) to the mainstream.
High Fidelity: The comedy for the music snob slacker in all of us. So funny. So true. And definitely some of Cusack and Jack Black’s best work.
Be forewarned, a leather blazer ain’t easy to pull off. It is usually the province of street toughs and douchebags. If you are either of these things, then you’re not really worried about being portrayed as such. As a matter of fact, you probably invite it. But for the rest of us – dudes without sweet neck tats or blowout Pauly D haircuts, the leather blazer can be something of a conundrum. So here’s my advice. If you’re going to buy one, don’t go with basic black. Black is reserved for the bomber or moto jacket. Instead, go with a dark, dark brown or rich mahogany. Also, do not wear leather jackets before nightfall unless you’re an extra on True Blood. To me, leather under false light is just a better look. What’s more, avoid wearing a white v-neck or Ed Hardy tee, or anything of the Ed Hardy ilk, under the jacket. You’ll look like the guy at the party who brought a toy lightsaber so people will talk to him.
Instead try a broadcloth blue and white Oxford from Steven Alan or a chambray chemise for something a little more rustic. And for the love of Pete, don’t pop the collar unless you’re using it as a top coat and you’re wearing a scarf.
The leather blazer is a tough look to pull off, and to be honest, I find it to be a look best suited for gents in their mid to late 30s or 40s. If you’re a 20 something follow the aforementioned guidelines to avoid embarrassment.
Unless you’re the frontman of a Brooklyn Heights indie electro punk band and you wear the damn thing 3 sizes too small, take great care in how you show this piece.
On his favorite yacht, billionaire magnate and international playboy Aristotle Onassis draped his barstools in the foreskin of sperm whales, as was the style at the time. Also he had the kind of money you swim through every morning. Maybe you can’t swing something as daring. No sweat, you can still get something that says style, and most importantly, comfort.
For me a barstool shouldn’t be a mid-century complication. It should be functional, easy to get into, and above all have somewhere to rest your dogs. You’re decorating your man cave, not an Ian Schrager boutique hotel. Super simple, with a hint of style. Something you don’t have to climb up on, something upholstered for your bum, and something that swivels so you can see if your good lady is coming downstairs to check on you. I’d suggest a dark wood with an oxblood seat, like something out of your favorite Irish dive. You want something that will keep your friends comfy and drinking, not aching and looking for the exit. Who knows? Maybe sperm whale foreskin is that mystery material that does just that.
If you’re like me, when you think of frying pans, you think of them as weaponry – not like, I’m gonna “own these eggs with this frying pan,” but more of a blunt weapon used upside an assailants head – a la Jason Bourne in any of the Bournes, John Cusack dispatching goons in “Gross Pointe Blank,” or the Marx Bros smacking each other around in Duck Soup. But lo and behold, gents, you can prepare food with it too. Handy – kitchen combat and pancake maker in one. When it comes to cookware, I keep it dead simple and high quality. I mean, let’s say you whip up some morning eggs or a a late-night steak au poivre (not hard to make) for your lady friend (or special lady – your pick), producing a busted up Ikea pan of questionable metal origins just ain’t a good look. I am fortunate enough to own an All Clad Stainless Steel 10” frying pan.
It’s so choice, you guys. It heats up in a snap and the weight on the handle is such that you feel like a bonofied shhhtud when you’re making a repast for two. If she sees you use All Clad, most likely she’ll think this isn’t your first sojourn into the kitchen, and that you’re just kind of an interesting fellow that has good taste (which you are) and doesn’t make a big fuss about it. And if food isn’t the way to her heart, maybe wielding the thing like a pro should some would be assassin swoop in for brunch will be enough to blow her hair back.
