Jimmy Webb, denizen of St. Mark’s Place, punk guru, and rockstar couturier died last month. He was 62. An upstate runaway and downtown club kid since the ‘70s, Jimmy had gotten hooked on drugs, lived on the street, cleaned himself up, and eventually gotten a sales job at the punk...
That’s right, Bruce Goddamn Campbell. Not, admittedly, for his Hawaiian shirt and beer gut ensemble in Burn Notice, nor for his leather jerkin (shut up, Isle) as Autolycus, the King of Thieves, on Hercules and Xena. Nor even for rocking the most badass (or dare I say, “Groovy”) accessory of all time, his chainsaw...
Late in his new series Jean-Claude Van Johnson, Jean-Claude Van Damme, in tailored suit and open-collared white shirt, gestures up from his Aston Martin to his secret hideout with the instantly classic setup line, “No one has looked for me here for 20 years.” It’s a Blockbuster Video. As always, Van...
In this tie, and in my reasons for tracking down and buying it 20 years after it was made. Atavism is, loosely, a reversion to ancestral traits. What do you do when you have few memorable traits to draw from? That was the conundrum the menswear line of Christian Dior...