There are times I feel trapped by men's clothing. It feels sometimes like my options are, 1.) an imitation of the Brawny paper towel man 2.) a skater pining for the good-ole-days of 2004, or 3.) a retiree who wears primarily golf shorts and pleated khakis. Of course, there are other options than these, but if you are on a budget and don't want to commit a ton of time to meticulously curating your wardrobe, its easy to feel like you are working against your clothes choices rather than embracing them.
Nothing is as scary as men's clothing in the summertime. In the summer, everything is more brash, more colorful, more dramatically what it is. Skater shorts now come with embroidered dragons, and the golf shirts are somehow incandescently shiny and metallic.
And shoes. Ooph. Shoes are the worst. Because when it is hot and humid, having feet that are sweaty and uncomfortable is particular kind of awful. And if you are looking to be comfortable without completely foregoing a sense of style and taste, shoes can be a minefield. So, with that in mind, here's my take on how to navigate summertime footwear.
Quick! There are only a few weeks left of summer, and clearly, you're not going to spend money on buying a brand new pair of shorts. So today we present you a super easy, super affordable, super badass way of making your own. This project is awesome (if I do say so myself), 'cause you customize the length to your personal preference, and you don't have to know how to use (or have access to) a sewing machine.
"Hey does this go with this?" I probably say this 4 times a week to my long-suffering spouse. I've never been an especially snappy dresser, but I have always tried to be put together. I've also never had to work in an office setting with a strictly professional dress code––I taught college for years. Guys in my field routinely dress in polo shirts or something short-sleeved that matches a pair of khaki pants. I'm the kind of guy who tried to make it work with a dark jean/button down/casual blazer––a sloppy and corpulent imitation of Josh Radnor or other random "nice" guy on TV...
Then I started working a venue where I was surrounded by
Everyday carry: that's, like, the wallet and keys that you shove in your pocket on your way out the door, right? Yes... and no. Sure, your everyday carry (EDC) rotation will include your wallet and keys, but it has the potential to be so much more: a vehicle of personal expression, an art form, a tool to daily sharpen thoughtfulness.
Unsurprisingly, EDC is a Thing on the Internet now, especially on social media—as of the time of this writing, the #everydaycarry hash tag has over 2 million photos associated with it on Instagram. A niche with roots in the military and law enforcement community has truly bloomed into a universal pastime.
Looking to refine your EDC game? I've shaken out hundreds of "pocket dumps" to uncover their most common elements. Let's take a look!
The sun is out, sleeves are getting short, and that means: it's time to update your look for the season.
We have created two easy DIY projects that will add a nautical touch to your wardrobe without breaking the bank or having to buy a boat. Learn how to make your own knotted bracelet and...come sail, uh, away?
As I wrote in my post about bow ties, I used clothes as self-expression when I was younger. I was a kid who was self-consciously weird, interested in art, with eclectic tastes; my wardrobe reflected that. I was never sure what to do with socks when wearing shorts, so I did what any self-consciously weird/arty/eclectic kid would do, and chose socks that drew attention to themselves: argyles, stripes, colorful prints of anchors and hamburgers.
I still do wear colorful socks—under jeans to the store, with dress pants and a jacket, and everything in between—but after a recent refresh of my shorts rotation, I started wondering how to truly master sophistication with my summer getup. Read on for the full report!
You know the phenomenon. No matter how hard your try, eventually, the little plastic tip on the end of your shoelaces (the official term is "aglet") will get crunched up, and slowly, you find yourself with a set of frayed laces. You could do the classic trick of burning the ends with a match to seize the fibers, but that's a temporary solution, and eventually, you'll end up exactly where you started.
Shoelaces are, of course, replaceable, and if you simply need a white or black pair for sneakers, or perhaps the classic golden variagated laces often found in leather workboots, you can switch them out if you like. But, so many pairs of shoes rely on the complement and/or contrast of the laces as a design element, and so often, you can't find a replacement.
So, instead, let's figure out how to fix shoelaces so they stay compact, useable, and fray-free.
Long time ManMade readers may recall my love of these earbuds, which I have claimed (over and over again), are the best value in in-ear audio supply out there. I had three or four sets going at any given time, and use them everywhere from the workshop and exercising to travel and housecleaning marathons. They work great, sound good enough, and are both durable and affordable that you don't mind taking a few risks with them. (Nearly every pair I have are also covered in paint and wood glue.)
Second only to my shovel, I count my big rainboots as my most essential yard work possession. Ever since I got them as a gift in 2010, they've kept my feet dry as I've tromped through muddy backyard gardens, turned compost piles, and cleared some seriously weedy rows of peppers on a local farm. (They made a cameo appearance on our article about digging a garden patch using only a shovel.)
Constant use has taken its toll on the natural rubber, though, so it was time to put into practice one of my favorite Depression-era maxims on frugality: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without."
Let's take a look at how I patched up my leaky wellies.
First, apologies to the young man who stood in front of me at the post office yesterday. He was trying, but not trying too hard. He was going for a slightly updated classic New England collegiate look: blue button down oxford, dark green chinos, killer brown leather boots, 60's-inspired glasses. His hair was parted pretty traditionally, the kind of clipper/scissor combo cut you can get at any modern barbershop. He didn't ask to inspire an article about hair product.
Some days, I wish I just had to wear a suit to work. I probably don’t actually mean that, and I’m sure you true 9-5ers would laugh at the possibility of giving up working in sweatpants for wingtips. A hardhat and steel-toed boots would work just as well. See, I'm interested in the ease of it. "Oh, I'm at work. Here's my work uniform." Instead, on any given day, I could be several different diverse work environments, both indoors and out, wet and dry spaces, with temperature fluctuations of upwards to thirty-five or forty degrees. 30° F when I leave in the morning, and 65° by 3pm.
What clothing item has something in common with freelance warriors, the Rat Pack, and a famous scientist from a beloved 1990's kid's show? Yep, you're staring at it: the bow tie.
Let's take a few minutes to dive into the fascinating world of this one-of-a-kind accessory.
I am a committed non-cuff-buttoner. I'll do it when I wear a jacket or a sweater atop a shirt, but if it's just me an a button down (oh, and pants), then my sleeves are rolled up 99% of the time. Sure, it makes for a less formal look, but really, it's more practical. I'm a doer, and my hands are constantly doing stuff, and keeping my sleeves out of the way means they won't end up in the garden soil, dishwasher, bike grease, spinning table saw blades, or whatever else I'm digging into that day.
A few weeks back we talked about some of the basic, essential tools for getting started in leatherworking. Once you're set up, its time to put them into practice. Here are a few projects to hone those skills, and end up with some great practical pieces you can use everyday
I have a few shirts I just can't seem to part with. They don't really fit me (they're much too big and baggy) and I never wear them. Ever. Some are at least five years old, and barely holding together.