You’re More Hip Than You Think

Ally: Our love for Unpaid Intern Anthony runs deep. He’s come through with another brills guest post. Happy Monday, peeps.

Anthony: Now that it’s cold in Vancouver, and I can see snow on the mountains (where it should bloody stay), I’ve been making a lot more time for sweaters, and long johns, and vests, and just a whole HELL of a lot of plaid. Yeah, more than usual. The other morning, while I was looking through my blog list of things I want to buy (and probably can’t afford), I was struck by a collection on Uncrate. And by struck, I mean I squealed and did one of those gutteral “ohhhhhhhhmyyyyyyyygodddddddddd” noises.

This is why I can’t go hiking – I want to jump every attractive man in plaid & a vest.

Come on – that’s basically the Anton Wilde starter pack. I mean, I wear that shit to formal events. Do I get away with it? Slightly. I’m sure they cluck their tongues behind my back and say, “what’s to be done with this obnoxious lad from the East?”, but if I was to take the advice of every Sir or Madam who thought mixing patterns was dangerous, I’d be balls deep in khakis by now. And homegirl don’t play that game.

*pro-tip: if you want to dress your boyfriend/husband/male companion like a really hot, fashionable fella with clothes he’ll actually like, show him Uncrate. Usually, magazines or blogs about clothes that say, ‘just for guys’, ease their anxiety about shopping/caring.

After I woke up from my fashion blackout, I started making a list of places downtown that would sell the pieces I need to recreate this mini mountain man collection. Once I was ready to head out, I pulled these three items from my closet:

…you can see where I’m going with this, right?

Seem familiar? Yeah, I already have some core parts to the look I was about to scavenge for. This got me thinking:

“Anthony, you own a fuckload of mountainous clothing already, what the hell are you doing?”

I’ll admit it, sometimes I’m a bit of an impulse shopper. Or irresponsible. Whatever. But I live one block away from Robson Street, which can be like Candy Land for fashionable people (and has the ridiculous nickname of “Vancouver’s Runway”). And I work in East Van where there are more than enough fantastic vintage shops for me to cruise on my way home.

My discovery started me thinking that I’m a materialistic whore. Also, that instead of going out into the real world where I’d have to deal with slow walkers and natural light, I could just shop at home.  I know, I know, it’s crazy, but check out what I came up with:

Yes, that is a “Pan Am” bag. You may form a queue for high-fives and other accolades to the left.

It’s hilariously sad that I didn’t realize I was so cool until I actually looked at my clothes. Call it a Humblebrag if you must, but I was pretty pumped with myself.

Oh, and that vest? I had an amazing conversation with a 5 year-old the other day who said that, while he owned the same one, my beard was longer. Seriously, if I had ovaries, they would have exploded at that moment.