A few days ago, I re-discovered this old picture of Chris Black’s (from Done to Death Projects) beaten-to-hell Uniqlo OCBD:
The picture accompanies a short article denoting Chris’s attachment to this particular shirt, and how it feels like a second skin. It’s a thoughtful little piece about sentimental attachment to the items you own, and creating your own “vintage“.
As you might imagine, given that the name of this newsletter is literally Frayed Collar, I consider this to be a very aspirational sentiment.
You can and should wear your clothes into the ground. Building a patina is a labor of love, and each blemish is a cherished memory (if you let it be). The compounding effect is a garment that is uniquely yours, tailored to the story of your life.
What I enjoy most about this article is that Chris presumably has the means and access to hunt down the finest oxford button-down in the world if he wants to, but he instead chooses to wear a near-20-year-old mass-produced shirt that he bought for $35. He found something that works for him and stuck with it, repairing along the way as needed.
That’s great and fantastic and something that I would theoretically like to do, but I’m an engineer and there’s only so much sprezzatura that can be tolerated in a business casual environment.
So, instead of a second skin, the route I’ve taken is that of the classic “uniform". Simple, easy clothes that get the job done, where you can both look good and be comfortable. Best of all, you don’t even have to think about putting together a fit, because you’re already guaranteed to look decent.
For me (and I’ve talked about these shirts a lot in the past), that means the J. Crew giant fit oxfords, J. Crew classic chinos, and shit-kicker beefroll loafers from Rancourt.
There is nothing revolutionary about this fit — this has been the preppy uniform for the better part of 80 years at this point. The things that matter to me are economy, fit and detailing, which is where this new era of J. Crew really shines in my opinion.
Actually, I take that back kind of. J. Crew makes a bunch of really crappy clothing, but mixed in there are some really nice things. They have sort of (but not really) established some flagship lines like the giant fit shirts and classic fit pants (and their workwear brand Wallace & Barnes) that use noticeably higher-quality materials and have much more attention to detail than their more regular offerings. Not sure why they do this, but they do. I think that the Crew would do well to reel in their output a bit honestly, but that’s neither here nor there.
I don’t think I’ve spent more than $35 for a giant fit oxford (and as little as $17), and for that price, it has details like a locker loop, a button on the back of the collar, and an acceptable collar roll. It’s a complete standout when it’s on sale, which given that it’s J. Crew, it’s basically on sale in perpetuity.
On top of that, it’s roomy enough that I can actually move around in it without getting too uncomfortable… As someone who has touched a bench press at least once and also grew up in the height of the slim fit hysteria, mobility without stretch fabric is a genuine novelty to me. In fact, I’m a little scared that they’re gonna nerf these oxfords at some point and have put some serious thought into buying some of the plain blue and white ones just to keep as dead stock.
Where was I?
Uhh anyway, having a uniform is great for when you’re starting out (or even if you’re a seasoned pro like Chris Black). It doesn’t need to be anything flashy — it could even be something as simple as a gray t-shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers. Whatever fits *you* best really.
It serves as a platform from which you can take risks. For example, I like to wear my oxfords with double-knee pants a lot, and when I was in college, I’d often wear an oxford or flannel with sweats and bean boots (actually I still do that and am wearing that exact fit as I type this).
But say you’re going the black jeans and t-shirt route: maybe you try out a pair of paraboots or play around with the fit or something. Maybe introduce a western-style overshirt with those awesome sawtooth pockets:
Basically just play around with stuff and stick with things that you feel cool in. Simple as.
One caveat to round out this article however: Generally when you think of a uniform, it’s a given that you’ll be buying multiples of the same item — maybe they’ll be different colors or something, but generally you’ll be stocking up (like moi and the giant fit oxfords — see the cover photo).
If you decide to go ahead and establish your own uniform (and I can’t stress this enough, it needs to reflect YOU as an individual or else it’ll look like a costume), I would strongly advise you to NOT bring that mindset of buying multiples of something along with you, once you start trying to expand your style. Make sure to let your unique articles shine by themselves in your collection, or the only thing they’ll end up collecting is dust.
I know I worded that a little confusingly, so let me give you an example from my own life:
I have this incredible vintage L. L. Bean toggle coat:
It’s flannel-lined and appears to be made out of melton wool. It’s one of the warmest coats I own, and it’s absolutely stunning in-person. However, like every respectable menswear autist, the Polo Ralph Lauren polo coat is one of my Holy Grail pieces of outerwear:
While these coats are far from identical, they’re both heavy-duty camel-colored long coats for winter. If I were at one point to splurge and buy the polo coat, it would compete for space in my wardrobe with the toggle coat, which is grail-worthy in its own right.
The net effect is that I probably wouldn’t wear either of them because they’re too similar. And even after I’ve sold one off, I’d like to imagine that the well would already be poisoned and I’d just not get much utility out of whichever one remained.
So once more, to summarize:
Buy multiples of your basic uniform
Let your unique pieces shine in their own right
Minutiae
Sex and the City
My wife is watching Sex and the City for the first time. This show is crazy — literally every single character is a massive scumbag. All of them, Charlotte included.
I was like 6 months old when this show first aired, but I’m under the impression that it was extraordinarily popular and even an aspirational draw to da big apple for women in the early aughts.
Maybe its an artifact of watching the episodes back-to-back, but man these people SUCK.
Also if I see one more Substack note of Carrie Bradshaw with a caption like “Le me when I’m writing to my 3 subscribers XD,” I’m going to find a way to go postal over the internet.
RIP David Lynch
A very sad day for weird little freaks.
I have some thoughts on what I can only describe as performative mourning that I’d like to flesh out at some point too. It’s getting to be a bit much.
Patagonia stand up short
Don’t ask where I heard it, but sources say they’re finally bringing back the 5” inseam stand up shorts this Summer…