Full frontal nudity, the social spectrum of duffle bags and other stories
It's a silly yet essential instalment this week, folks
This week, a selection. First up - as we tentatively enter travel season - I distil the eight predominant duffle bag tribes, from The I’m not a Nepo Baby to The Recovering Fashion Person.
Elsewhere, I weigh up the merits of bearing your entire chest to the world and, in the wake of Watches and Wonders 2024, reveal the only two timepieces you’ll ever need.
1 | The social spectrum of duffle bags
Just as man’s shoes say much about his character, so too does his choice of duffle bag. Which begs the question, what does yours reveal about you? Mine, pictured below, is begging me to pick it up off the filthy Sarf London streets.
Read on to find out which spot you bag on the list.
The Fifty-Something Frequent Flyer
This chap could be European, or he could be gay. No kids. Only ever turns left. Repeat buys the same pair of paint-on white jeans from that large shop in Mayfair, opposite Claridges, which no one has ever heard of but sells everything trimmed in fur. Loves a Tateossian bracelet. Drinks Kir Royales where he should drink water (Badoit).
Carries a:
The Last Ditch Dad
Buys his clothes from Margaret Howell, YMC and Toast. Has a tab at Labour and Wait. Dotes on his three kids Hemp, Carine and Dotty but sometimes wonders weather he loves Album, his eight-year-old Russian blue, more. Sleeps rarely, listens to death metal on the tube, freelances as a mid-weight art director. Eye bags as accessories. Aspires to a potting shed.
Carries a:
The Fintech Bro on the Go
All his zippers finish just below the sternum and he owns several gilets which make the sound of rustling leaves when he moves. Loud on the phone. Tuts at those who take longer than three seconds to unload their laptop and liquids at airport security and wears perfectly round tortoiseshell spectacles (which he absolutely does not need) to make him look more promotable than his years. Aspires to Loro Piana Summer Walks. Settles for Russell and Bromley. For now.
Carries a:
The I’m not a Nepo Baby
Has a seller rating of 5 on Stock X and was educated in Switzerland. Doesn’t like to talk about either. His hair is bleached, his spots are fresh, but his neck smells like Creed’s Royal Oud - his father tried to buy the perfumer as a side hustle in 2023, but was outbid by Kering. Takes offence. Was given majority shares in Media Platforms Technologies as a confirmation present, drives a Porsche Taycan (his mum wouldn’t let him have anything other than electric - she’s a sustainability ambassador to the UN) and sources his hoodies from Depop (unless he’s buying rare, which he has a man for).
Carries a (HE DIDN’T CHOOSE IT, IT’S HIS MUM’S):
The Too Creative to Care
All of his suits are second hand (Yohji), his scent is entirely his own and his beard doubles as a larder. Conspicuously carries a copy of Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act when he travels, works for several agencies but doesn’t like to commit to one office/country (call him a digital nomad at your peril). Partial to a poncho and wearing his hair in pigtails. Has been painted by Alex Katz. Often in Paris. Despises the “circus” of fashion week but went to college with Nigo and likes to support his friends, y’know?
Carries a:
The Stealth Wealth Septuagenarian
Spends the first half the year in the Bahamas, the second in St Tropez. Has six children by four wives. Invented being brown. Gets invited to meet Loro Piana’s Vicuna in the Andes most years but doesn’t have the time despite the fact he retired at 38. Considering a bunker in New Zealand, calls his hair his mane, has disinherited his two first borns. Might look homeless were it not for the fact that all his (well-worn, navy blue) clothes come imbued with the unmistakable sheen of lanolin and cash.
Carries a:
The Agent of Activewear
Once wore Under Armour exclusively but then it went alt right. Now lives in Alo. Resides in Ladbroke Grove - picked up his seven bed house for a fiver in the 90s when he worked for FHM. Sober for six years, hasn’t been able to run for six months owing to a knee injury incurred during the Azerbaijan triathlon (his ninth). Has begrudgingly taken up yoga under the aegis of his wife, a rock climber slash photo director named Gert. Wore his On Running Cloud Monster trainers when they got married - but purposely picked the black ones, he’s not an animal.
Carries a:
The Recovering Fashion Person
Has two emotional support animals. One is his cat, Joy. The other is his Prada cat Carrier. Also named Joy
Carries a:
2 | On Full Frontal nudity
I’ve recently been trying on my suits and thinking that they’d just look so much better if I could wear them with nothing underneath. I’m not just talking about double breasted suits - which are easy to wear shirt/tee/vest-less, in the style of Timothee Chalamet at pretty much every premier he attends - but single breasted suits, too.
I think the reason I’m so into the completely bare chested, full front nudity thing - as shown at brands including Our Legacy, Prada and Dries Van Noten for Spring Summer ‘23 - is because for the first time in around a decade, I’m really excited about all the suits I own and I feel like teaming them with any other garments diminishes their beauty and power.
I think it’s also because I’m very taken with the new season’s statement shirts - the kind of heavy duty shirt jackets produced by Studio Nicholson and the stiff pop-overs made by Drake’s - which warrant being worn alone, unsullied by blazers or jacketry of any kind.
To be honest, if I could also wear my suits barefoot I would. Sandals feel like a good halfway house - not least because on my recent trip to Mumbai I realised that Indian men are among the most stylish in the world. Elegant and understated in full break tailored trousers, low slung Peshawari sandals and easy, breezy standalone summer shirts, the everyday men of the Indian subcontinent are my current tailoring icons.
I digress. The truth is, I tried to wear a couple of single breasted suits with my full torso on show and the results were, ahem, disappointing. I’m slim, sure, but the consistency of stomach is about as far from washboard as it’s possible for pure marshmallow to get.
My conclusion? Only rake thin people who are under the age of 25 could ever think about going completely shirtless under a non double breasted jacket. But maybe that should have been obvious to begin with.
For the rest of us, the answer is to wear our suit jackets and blazers with smart v-neck shirts. I’ve recently discovered a selection which I bought when I first started at Esquire - a white one from The Kooples and a black one from Z Zegna. They work excellently with the swooping lines of single breasted lapels and they bear just enough chest to mean you don’t need to start taking ozempic. Which is a relief, as I’m in no rush to have the body of a 25-year-old, but the face of a dead person.
3 | The only two watches you’ll ever need
I’ve been observing the comings and goings from the Watches and Wonders fair in Geneva from a very safe distance this year, and it’s been interesting to examine the novelties via Instagram, as opposed to through a loupe.
I was particularly taken with a beautiful, seventies-inspired Patek Philippe Golden Ellipse, and the impressive emerald-set Piaget “Andy Warhol” - both championed on by the Time Lord himself, Nick Foulkes.
The truth is though, that for all those new trinkets and baubles - many of which cost the same as a new car - there are really only two watches you ever need to buy in your lifetime. And if you only ever make it to owning one (or none) then that’s ok, too.
The first is a classic Rolex Datejust with fluted bezel and jubilee bracelet. The steel and white gold model with champagne or silver dial, finished with baton numerals. Simple, understated, elegant. It’s a great everyday watch and if you take care of it, it’ll hold its value. You’ll need to buy second hand, as these are near impossible to find new, but that’s ok. There are plenty to choose from.
The second is a Tank Louis Cartier. Inaugurated by, you guessed it, Louis Cartier himself in the early 20th century, the jewellery making scion was inspired by the square-set treads of WWI tanks for the design of the dress watch.
To be honest, whichever Cartier Tank you go for, it’ll be the only dress watch you’ll ever want to wear. And the good thing is, they look great worn in the daytime, too.
If you really need a third watch in your arsenal - and you’re feeling flush - then you should go for a sporty-yet-chic Patek Philippa Nautilus with Midnight blue dial. Good luck finding one for less than £70k! Lol!
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