It all started on Pinterest, as it usually does. It’s always my downfall. One minute I am being productive, the next I am scoping out $400 men’s bathing suits-but really, I don’t think it’s my fault. This love for fashion is a sort of disease, an all encompassing, life-ruining disease. I am sick-that’s it.
I realized how sick I was when I spent more time than I would care to divulge-let’s say upward of 20 minutes-seeking out a men’s swimsuit I had seen on a blog and subsequently pinned. It was just too cute. The pattern was an aerial view of a pool filled with people. Aquamarine water is dotted with tiny swimmers, floaties, rafts, waves. So chic! I had to track it down-it would be the perfect present. The problem is: I have no one to buy this for. I was spending all of this time shopping for my invisible boyfriend. And then the bathing suit turned out to be almost $400, so I reasoned that even if I did have a man to buy this for, he could hardly be worth it, and there are definitely things I would rather spend $400 on-let’s be serious.
I don’t claim to know a ton about men’s fashion, but I do know what I like. And I liked this suit. Every once in a while I come across an item that is just too perfect, and I am tempted to buy it and save it for when that special someone does come along. This is how I know I am sick-I am shopping for a man who doesn’t even exist. Now, this is not a socially acceptable thing to do. I must hide these pinned ideas away on a secret Pinterest board, hide them away from the prying eyes of my eager followers. They can’t know the outfits I am plotting and planning to dress the next man who so stupidly stumbles into my life in. But now, I guess the cat is out of the bag. Oh, well.
The Pinterest board, however, is not the only secret. Tucked away in my desk drawer is a newspaper clipping. This isn’t unusual, as I have lots of these. But this is from months ago and shows a fabulous pocket square wallet hybrid called Hank. It’s a small fabric pouch big enough to hold a gentleman’s-I’d expect no less of my imaginary boyfriend, you see-smartphone, ID, credit cards, and cash. Tucked into a pocket it could look like a fabulous pocket square, but it’s sneaky and chic and oh so 21st century, and I think it would be a great present. Alas, it remains an unrealized present. I need to stop being so thoughtful toward my imaginary boyfriend. He hasn’t done that much for me lately.
The problem-or at least, what feeds the disease-is that men’s fashion is just so wonderful. It’s so understated at times, and to the untrained eye, even boring. But au contraire! Dress shoes with brightly colored soles, vintage watches, sneaky tech accessories, Fair Isle sweaters, hipster glasses, fine leather goods, a classic pair of Ray-Bans, nautical striped t-shirts, patterned bowties-trust me, it’s an imaginary wardrobe to die for. Cufflinks, monogrammed golf shirts, fabulous leather boots. Suspenders. All of this male fashion sensibility is going to waste in my single girl mind.
I would love to say that the men here at Boston College dress horribly, but as a whole, they really don’t. They are doing pretty well all on their own. I applaud them, even though I am sure none of them are reading this. It’s hard to admit to myself that they don’t need me to hunt down overpriced swim trunks for them. That’s okay, however-the offer still stands. Keep up the good work, gents. It does not go unappreciated on this campus, nor will it ever go unappreciated in life-remember that.
Men, if you are reading this and are in need any fashion advice, you know where to find me. I am always available for a free consultation. I have enough knowledge, and hidden pictures of men’s fashion, to help you through any crisis or question you might encounter. Just a last side note-barely worth mentioning-if any of you fellas are looking for an LTR, chic dressing tips guaranteed, hit me up.