F*ck Yeah Menswear Essentials

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FUCK YEAH MENSWEAR’S

ELEVEN* ESSENTIALS

*Exactly one essential better than your average “Ten Essentials List.”

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fuck yeah meNswear’s eleven essentials

No. 1

Oxford Cloth Button-Down

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lipping through my father’s old yearbooks, drinking in his youth as he had drunk in mine, the wind was knocked out of me. Here was a young chap, with much more hair than he

has now, with his entire life ahead of him. Before he broke his leg in the championship game. Before he knocked up my mother. Before he got sued for sexual harassment while working in the coal mines.

Before the bitter divorce. Before he started to drink the pain away. This was a boy whose face was fresh with youth. A boy on the cusp of manhood. Here was someone whom I had never known.

Someone I wished to meet. With his collar buttoned down, his sleeves rolled up, and the edges frayed, he was me. And I was him. I called out. No response. I called again. And again, no response. I exhaled just before tucking away the broken dreams of a broken man as I do an unruly shirttail.

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fuck yeah meNswear’s eleven essentials

No. 6

Navy Sportcoat

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ATs. Perfect score. Secret Society. Initiated. Graduation.

Summa cum laude. Job interview. Stock options. First date. Fucked her. Fucked her twice. Meet the parents.

Glowing reviews. Sit down and have a serious discussion about having children. Triplets. Open house. Escrow.

Mounting pressures. Handled like a mature adult. Rumors of layoffs.

Bonus. Coaching Little League.

Championship. Kids growing up before your eyes. Cry, but manly. Back nine. 5 handicap. Retire. Palm Beach. Grandchildren.

Rhodes Scholars. Die a painless natural death. Buried in my navy sportcoat.

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fuck yeah meNswear’s eleven essentials

No. 7

Ray-Bans

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hile I started smoking at thirteen, my Ray-Bans have been my signature of cool since I was old enough to walk. They hid my tears when Charlene broke up with

me in the 5th grade. They hid my tears just as well when Charlene broke up with me again in the 6th grade. And they hid my tears once again, years later, when Charlene delivered the heartbreaking news that my dear grandfather was mauled to death by a cougar while out traversing the Sierra Madres. Not just for blocking emotion, but for blocking the cruel rays from above, my Wayfarers have accompanied me everywhere the light shines on my adventures. Just remember, a gentleman only wears his sunglasses inside if he’s crying.

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