🔥FIRE SALE🔥 No. 27
🍂 Grown-up fall, 🤦♂️ Nelk Boys–induced masculinity crisis, and 🎬 Éric Rohmer's Boyfriends and Girlfriends
This is the first fall of my 30s (queue Carrie Bradshaw's pensive stare into the abyss of a MacBook), and I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell does a man dress for their 30s these days?
As we have tracked in FIRE SALE, there is an epidemic of manchildren in New York City, specifically, but also across this great and beautiful country. From sea to shining sea, Siegelman Stable hats, ALD tees, and men pushing 40 are in line at Stussy.
The trigger wasn’t a glossy magazine or a stylish Substack but something stranger: the Nelk Boys’ softball interview with Benjamin Netanyahu.
After the interview and subsequent backlash, the boys (adult men) had people from “the other side,” whatever that is supposed to mean, come on the show to hear their point of view. Comedian Bassem Youssef, whose support of Palestine has been brave and fervent, got to the heart of not only the Nelk boys but the cluelessness of an entire generation of American men.
“You guys are not little kids. You are f---ing 30 years old, right? People in your age have families and they have a career, and … you need to stop.” Youssef said. “You need to stop infantilizing yourselves.”
I’m no Nelk Boy, although that is admittedly not a high bar to clear. I’ve mostly grown out of my frat boy ways, but that shit hit me like Mike Tyson. So many men, myself to a degree, will pretty much spend 15 to 20 years of their life stuck between being a boy and a man without asking themselves, ‘uhhh dude, what was I put on this earth to do?’
I’m by far not the first person to ask, “What is up with men?” (see the Democratic Party). It’s all anyone talks about these days. “Manchild” by Sabrina Carpenter hit #1. GQ just had a check-in on their 5-year-old “New Masculinity” project. All the while, big businesses have created an addictive and all-consuming toxic stew of gaming, pornography, and sports gambling, and seem hell bent on keeping men glued to the NFL, gooners for dopamine in all forms, and with that, these men, consciously or not, neglect the way they present themselves and take responsibility for not only their appearance but themselves. At worst, this consumer is a basement dweller, and at best, they are the best-dressed guy with a Nolita mailing address.
I personally came to an infantilizing crossroads a couple of years ago when the Indianapolis Colts drafted Florida quarterback Anthony Richardson. Before he had even taken a snap, I added his jersey to the cart, and as I was punching in my billing address, I thought, “Am I really going to wear this 20-year-old guy’s name on my back like he’s my childhood role model?”
“Are you sure you want to abandon the cart?” Fanatics blinked back at me.
Yes.
So where do I go from here? I was imparted some great wisdom from my style elders that emphasizes a flexible uniform and practical framework.
“The chore coat has replaced the suit jacket.”
“You can dress entirely in navy blue and never be underdressed or overdressed for any occasion.”
“You don't need more than three jackets, ten shirts, and three pairs of pants to get through three seasons.”
An important rule I would like to add is to ground oneself in a nice pair of shoes, not sneakers. Using the same idea as ~grounding~, a nervous system regulation method where you put your bare feet on the grass to absorb the Earth’s natural electrical charge, slipping your feet into leather shoes like loafers, oxfords, or derbys can give you a powerful, serious charge — the kind that drives boardroom success and perfect Ivy League blue books.
These plum beauties from Finnish brand Tarvas, the simple Doc Marten mono with a low profile, or these James Coward's 'Sanders Peaceful Beef Roll Loafer,' have a nice low profile but are stylish nonetheless.
When looking for mature style cues, Eric Rohmer’s Boyfriends and Girlfriends (1987) is a film I often return to. In the film, two couples essentially fight with their own inevitable feelings for each other's partners, and by the end, everyone has flipped around. It’s extremely charming and extremely French, with the two male leads offering two distinct, age-appropriate approaches to style—one maturing into adulthood, the other approaching midlife.
On the left, Fabien, the still-waters-run-deep sportsman, is wearing a t-shirt, a comfy cardigan, and white pants. It’s casual but considered. On the right, Alexandre, a civil servant who dresses to the standing of his role but nothing more. He can stand confidently, yet remains relaxed and comfortable in his own skin; it’s not the costume of a serious man. In both instances, the characters' wardrobe meets them at precisely the appropriate standard. Fabien balances the sportsman in him with his more elevated, yet relaxed choices, and Alexandre’s suit signals his position while retaining his personhood. He’s not just a suit. This consideration is born of confidence and maturity—something for men in my position to aspire to.
Finally, anyone on a similar journey as myself should take the simple step of paring down their own wardrobe, which involves culling their closet of ratty shirts and the storage bins under their bed of T-shirts long out of service, sweatpants with holes in them, and hoodies lacking in sentimental value to make way for more mature pieces. Clothes that will help you lock in, blanket yourself in confidence, and propel you towards growth. I just cleared out my closet, and now I have a clearer foundation to work with. I immediately gave in to my impulses and bought six vintage ties from Church Street Surplus.
In 'On Keeping a Notebook' from Joan Didion’s Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968), Didion writes:
“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.”
While I was sorting through items I wanted to toss, donate, and sell, a certain shame came upon me (damn Irish Catholicism, you got me again), and I felt like turning back. What if the ghost of my wardrobe past comes back to haunt me for trying to discard them from my life? This shiver of fear quickly faded when I realized that the pieces I did decide to keep were both a moniker of who I was and suited to where I was headed. Old sweaters, classic band tees, and a Peyton Manning jersey—my childhood hero. I wasn’t self-destructing; I was just moving on down the road, making sure to wave down my past self and tell them to hop in the car, but also to pack a small suitcase.
Lately, I’ve been obsessed with flipping through old Ikea catalogs from the 90s. That era is forever etched into my ideal of a cool yuppie lifestyle. To set the scene: a sophisticated yuppie with a massive PC at home, shopping around at Dean & Deluca, and carrying a Sony Walkman with some rare, underrated tunes on a burnt CD.
I’ve put together a playlist to match that idealized era. Give it a listen!
