If there's one thing that being weird has taught me,
it's that I'm always in good company.
Case in point:
My father.
When all the other kids' dads were suiting up on sports suits and ties, my dad was prepping the cargo onesie for a day of nature hikes and "leaf catch" (exactly what it sounds like) with his three smartass daughters.
For a stay-at-home dad, he hardly fit the "Mr. Mom" bill, and had more in common with Crocodile Dundee or Yukon Cornelius than any character in Daddy Daycare.
Weirdest of all, though, was his propensity for coolness.
Holdddd up.
Let me explain -
lest you think that "coolness" to which I refer in any way detracts from the weirdness that is my progenitor.
Ever since I was a wee pup, my pa has insisted upon embracing his own Northern-American-man-meets-Canadian-native-meets-rustic-Eskimo-beachy-safari-outback-reminiscent-sheep-herding-fisherman style.
Even though we lived in a ritzy suburb
outside of a big city
2 blocks from a Walgreens and a Panera and a Caribou Coffee and not the Yukon Trail. . .
it meant nothing.
And between oft-indulged eye rolls and obnoxious scoffs aimed at my dad's resilient sense of sartorial 'savvy', I began to realize a phenomenon of sorts:
His "horrible" fashion choices
were actually trends 5 to 10 years from inception.
Trapper hats?
Definitely forced to wear one at age 5.
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And though I'm woefully aware that it goes without saying;
I did not resemble above.
Lace up boots?
Remember when you'd slip on your parent's shoes to run and get the mail back when mail boxes still existed?
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#IfIWasABoy
Plaid?
All over it.
No, I mean, like allllllll over it.
Cargo pants?
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Weak.
Try cargo luxe tuxedo
shit just got real.
Shall I continue?
More, you say?
Thermal shirts,
Mock turtlenecks,
Oversized wool cardigans,
Horrific wire-rimmed round nerd lenses,
J.Crew-but-not-J.crew-esque wool socks peaking out from under winter boots,
winter boots,
It's actually getting to the point where I strongly consider not packing for trips home as an excuse to wear some old ripped item from ridiculed decades past.
Moral of the story:
Don't make fun of your parents.
Because in 5 years time I can guarantee that you'll regret incessantly mocking their idiocy and rabbit-fur lined ear flap hat that you suddenly absolutely need in order to complete your nearly perfect winter wardrobe.
And in case you curious George's were all gung and ho to jump on the next lumberjack-y trend,
I had a parlay with the pseudo Leger himself last noir and managed to extract these priceless (but priced) premonitions for the seasons ahead . . . .
no,
fer real
Honker
And yes, that is a full front pouch pocket with duck callers tucked inside.
So glad you asked.
Everyday doesn't have to be Friday when you've got a blazer cum cargo cum sportcoat hybrid at your disposal.
No quips here. Always have been and always will be infatuated with these numbers. Too bad my extra-juicy watermelon-sized head is extra emphasized by above adorner.
And this one,
which I had to create via Polyvore for lack of an already existent example:
4. the "mock zip turtle neck under sport shirt" original look
you look adorable, lumber-jacked up. Great story..I love all these childhood stories that we can look back on..they definitely make us who we are..my dad will always be a huge part of who I am!
ReplyDeletesheree xxx
www.itsnotthatdeep.com
I Loooooooove that hat
ReplyDeletedads always know best. my brothers and i fight over whose turn it is to raid our dad's closet whenever we're home. with vintage lacoste, aviator sunglasses, and oversized knits it's like the best vintage store on earth. only everything smells like dad and not like moth balls and creepy old man. love this post dedicated to your very sartorially on point papa. it's sure to make him damn proud!
ReplyDeleteabigail
www.farandwildjewelry.com
Bahaha I can only hope to teach doodle as much as your dad "passed down" to you :)
ReplyDeleteBrooke @ what2wear