by bels » Thu Oct 27, 2016 10:50 am
Choose fashion. Choose a designer. Choose a wardrobe. Choose a skincare regime. Choose a fucking big overcoat, choose running shoes, shirts, compact cotton tees and tapered wool trousers. Choose good taste, low carbon footprint, and ethical manufacture. Choose fffixed interesting textured long coats. Choose an interview suit. Choose your look. Choose athleisurewear and matching technical sandals. Choose a three-layer shell on The Bureau in a range of fucking colours. Choose DIY and wondering how the fuck sleeves work on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting in that shell on a mind-numbing, spirit crushing commute, stuffing fucking podcasts into your brain. Choose selling it all at the end of it, flipping your last on a miserable website, nothing more than an embarrassment to the tasteless, fucked up lowballers you trained to replace yourself.
Choose your outfit.
Choose good clothes.
But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose good clothes: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got Maharishi by Hardy Blechman Snopants?