Sunday, November 7, 2010

Vintage Voyage Vivacity

When people comment on my personal style, it usually comes down to two types of questions.

1. Why are you dressed like that?

2. How old are you?

The answer to the first question is easy enough ("Because I'm awesome."), but the second is more tricky. Apparently, my sartorial decisions have made me look like an old man, devoid of any youthful glow and content to complain about how the internet and fax machines are destroying family values.

It seems most Chicagoans assume that I am about 28 years old (approximately two Justin Bieber's), which over time has increased the standard deviation of age-related guesses beyond a comfortable level. But instead of trying to fight back against this image of senescence, I've embraced this truth about my appearance. Better to be old and bitter than young and beloved. Wait, that doesn't sound right...

Anyway, I've indulged in some recent vintage clothing purchases to cement my elderly personal philosophy and appearance. First, I needed a raincoat.

Pictured above: A beautiful, double-breasted, navy-blue trench-coat. I don't plan on engaging in much trench warfare during my 7-15 years in the MD/PHD program, but you never know when the Kaiser will strike.

I had to take in the sides a bit (London Fog tends to be a bit boxy), but when such a coat is only $6, it is definitely worth the effort.

Pictured above: The recommended washing instructions. To maintain its authenticity, however, I will be cleaning it the old-fashioned way: by indentured servant.

I also purchased a leather travelling bag ($5) and a khaki fedora ($10). Now, my ensemble is complete.

Pictured above: I wonder if there is such a thing as a "vintage nerd"...

Together, I now will look like a 19th century British explorer, ready to indulge in the silks and spices (and colonial oppression) of the orient or participate in big-game hunting (and colonial oppression) in the Serengeti. How extravagant!

1 comment:

  1. I had a trench coat in high school, but I was forced by the vice principal to stop wearing it. Apparently I had the demeanor of a potential school shooter?