Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘ed hardy’

so uncool

Trying to save money always leads me to bad places. Like my hair dryer, for example. About three years ago, my Conair died. The lady at Trade Secret showed me the options, which all cost over $100.

$100? My Conair had cost something like $14.99. Seeing my hesitation, the salesperson paused. “I have a really good dryer that’s been marked down to $25,” she said. “But it’s a weird color.” Who cares what my hair dryer looks like, I thought. And that’s how I ended up with my Ed Hardy hair dryer.

It’s a hell of a dryer. My mom tried to take it to Korea until I reminded her of the voltage issue. Still, it’s ugly and racially offensive and I have to hide it when guests use my bathroom, and all that leads me to wonder if the savings of $75 was worth it, in the long run.


I thought of my hair dryer this week as I bought my new skis. The guy helping me at the ski shop, who I should probably refer to as “T,” was about 25 and totally adorable. He reminded me of my high school boyfriend, who skipped a lot of school to go snowboarding, and once wrote me a love letter in which he referred to me throughout as his “Angle.” He wasn’t an academic, but he knew his gear, and I felt similarly trusting of T.

When I told T my budget, he looked depressed. But then he lit up. “Actually, I have a ski that would be great.” He took me over to a pair of white Dynastars. “I’ve skied this twin-tip, it’s awesome and has great control,” he said. “It’s on closeout, because of the design on it.” I looked closer. Ah. No wonder. There was a pink kiss mark on the design. So cheesy. And worse, the kiss made the skis look even more like girl skis, which they clearly were, because they were white. The skis also had an unfortunate label that said “Trouble Maker.” I’m not a trouble maker. In fact, the thought of making trouble of any kind stresses me out.

But the skis had been marked down to $199, including bindings. Less than my last pair of jeans. Tom would be so proud that I’d saved money. “Pretty bad,” I said, smiling at T. “But I can live with it for the price.”

T shook his head. “No, that’s not the bad part.” He rotated the skis to show the bottoms, which look like this.


My God. I couldn’t believe you could put a picture like that on sporting equipment. I fought the urge to throw my coat over the skis. I couldn’t buy them. I would be ridiculous. But $199! Almost the same price as a season rental. “You aren’t just saying they’re good skis to get rid of them, right?”, I asked. T shook his head. I asked that question because I couldn’t ask the one I really wanted to ask, which was “You aren’t just saying they’re good skis because you’re high, right?” It seemed wrong given that he was at work and all.

I looked around at all the normal skis that didn’t have naked women on them, and nibbled nervously at my fingernails. It was so unfair. You shouldn’t feel like you have to sell your soul in order to save a little money.

In the end, I bought them. I told myself they could be ironic. But the buyer’s remorse started almost as soon as I left the store. I remembered that I’m 35, which makes me about five years too old to buy something uncool and pass it off as ironic. I am exactly old enough, however, that someone looking at me in those skis might think that I actually thought the skis were cool. After sleeping on it, I panicked afresh when I called T the next morning to ask him a question about my boots, and he didn’t even remember me at first, which leads me to the conclusion that he was in fact totally stoned when he sold me those skis.

Whatever. I saved money. I have that to cling to. Also, Tom really likes my skis, and keeps asking to look at them again. When Finn saw them, he stared at them wide-eyed and then laughed for a full minute, in a way that made me realize I would be the ridicule, not only of adults, but of children.

At least I saved some money.

are you wearing dad jeans?

Today’s post is dedicated to new dad Ethan Samson. Welcome to the world, Ford Oliver!

I care about my clothes. But frankly, I probably care even more about my husband’s clothes, because I have to look at him every day. I also work in an office filled with men, where crimes against fashion are committed on a regular, unremitting basis. In my mind, that makes me as qualified as any to post about men’s fashion. Let’s get right to it. Herewith, in what is likely to be a continuing series, two of my top “don’ts” for men, and some suggestions.

The redundant undershirt

Is he working, or clubbing? I bet even he couldn’t tell you

Unless you are 19 and rushing a fraternity, or your chest hair starts at your chin, there is no excuse for wearing a visible undershirt under a collared shirt. No excuse whatsoever. This look drives me particularly insane when combined with a sport coat. I know a lot of men who can put a suit together and have no trouble with at-home casual, but go completely AWOL when asked to do anything in between. And this is where many guys, in desperation, attempt the collared shirt with the sport coat, sans tie. If you are going for that look, first off, it helps to be George Clooney. If you are not George Clooney, you either need a button down shirt, or you need magnetic collar stays to keep your collar from spreading on you. Once your collar spreads on you, you’re toast. You might as well throw the gold chains on at the outset. And if, underneath the open spread collar, you are rocking your best Hanes crewneck undershirt–well, good luck to you, sir. If you need the coverage or sweat protection, try a v-neck undershirt instead.

No undershirt, plus collar stays. So much better.

Daddy denim

I have strong opinions about men’s jeans. On the spectrum of men and jeans, at one end are the guys who don’t try at all. Those jeans you love because you wore them to your first Widespread Panic concert, the ones that are super soft because you’ve had them for 15 years? While you were rocking out, they became dad jeans. Burn them immediately.

Once in a while, dad jeans can be so bad that they spill over into sheer awesomeness. My friend Andy once showed up at a party in Kirkland Signature jeans. I knew they were Kirkland Signature jeans because the jeans said that, on a huge label above the back pocket. For those not in the know, Kirkland Signature is the house brand for Costco. Now, I’m no label snob, but when your label can also be found on car batteries and spiral-cut ham, even I take pause. That said, Andy is probably one of the most charismatic people I know. I’ve also seen him get away with a mock turtleneck, and no one in the history of time–with the possible exception of Vladimir Putin–has pulled off one of those. In fashion, as elsewhere, force of personality counts for a lot.

Way worse than those who try not at all, are the guys who try too hard. I feel bad that men have fewer fashion options than women, and thus have fewer ways to express their sartorial individuality. But wearing jeans with highly decorated pockets is no place to start. Again, there are men who can pull these types of jeans off, but in my experience, they are super rare. I’ve met like one, and he was a deejay. You’re not a deejay, are you?

stop the madness

So, where to go? Levis is a good place to start. So is the Gap, with their 1969 line. At the spendier end, Earnest Sewn, A.P.C., and Rag & Bone make simple denim in simple cuts (with plain pockets) that you will not tire of. I cannot vouch for their comfort. My husband bought a pair of A.P.C.s in raw denim three years ago and is still waiting for them to “mold to his body” as promised by the proselytizing salesperson. They are so stiff that they are currently standing upright in a corner of our closet.

In the end, your safest bet might be Diesel. Avoid the crazier cuts and washes and ask for the Viker–a straight leg, medium-rise style–in a medium gray or blue. The salesperson will advise you not to dry them in a machine, which will alarm you. Ignore them. You can wash and dry them however you want and they will be fine. My husband has washed his with our toddler’s training underpants and they are none the worse for wear, but for the slight lingering odor of urine. Remember, they are, in the end, just blue jeans. And you will wear them enough to justify the cost, because they will go with everything. You’ll look like you sort of care about your jeans, but not like you care too much. Easy, right?