Sorry, my dude, I cannot cosign French cuffs but for the most formal of circumstances (e.g., weddings, benefits and other sorts of galas). If you stand by your decision to rock French cuffs regularly, however, at least invest in an interesting pair of cufflinks (if for nothing else other than to serve as a conversation starter).
The effort? Oh, you mean like the 30 seconds it takes to bend down, pick them up and place them into each respective shoe? I don’t know, man, writing it out like that really makes me second guess why I’ve been protecting my investments all these years. Thanks for the note, you just saved me 182.5 minutes a year for the rest of my life.
At approximately USD 1200, you are in are really difficult position. For a new watch, even taking into consideration that you will most likely be able to negotiate at least a 30% discount (this is pretty much the norm in shopping for luxury timepieces), most of the pieces you will be dealing with will still be a quartz or basic automatic movement. Jump up to about USD 1800 (1400€) and the whole game changes. Baume et Mercier, Longines and even some Tag Heuer models become available.
My advice? Go pre-owned, and don’t worry about the strap (you can purchase Chopard Mille Miglia rubber straps made from Dunlop Indy car tires for like USD 129). It’s only a matter of time before your mother starts complaining that her car is making funny noises, and your dad pops the hood without removing his watch and just starts banging that thing around anyways. At USD 1200, you’ll be able to find Omegas, Rollies, Chopards, Cartiers etc. Hit the books and do some research at Time Zone—trust me, you won’t regret it.
Cover your buddy’s paper route for two days and you’ll be able to cop dat APC moto jacket.
Isaac? He’s generally an all-around good dude—front to back, a stand up guy. As per his ideas, I never really rapped with him about world politics or economic theory, so I really don’t know if his ideas are any good, my brotha.
Fuck Adam Smith’s “individual ambition serves the common good” mumbo jumbo, that’s old news. And it’s really much simpler than that. Here’s what you do. Go out to a couple of bars and eavesdrop, all night, on every conversation that pops up around you between some helpless chap and his object of desire. Remain sober so that you can really, really get a gist of what homeboy’s saying. I hope you’re reading this closely, because here’s the important part: next time you’re up to bat with some fine shorty that tickles your fancy, do the exact opposite of that which you witnessed during your night of espionage because, truth is, 99% of all men in this world have absolutely no idea how to talk to the fairer sex.
Sure, some of the above is in jest, but that’s mostly because I’ve (sorta) written on this topic before and am too lazy to address it again.
Finally, if all else fails, you can always just read this blog called How to Talk to Girls At Parties that my friend once told me about—I don’t really read it all that often but I’ve heard that it’s pretty popular and would appear to be all you need, judging from the title.
The only Aldo I fucks with is not in the business of putting out shoes, he’s in the Nazi killin’ business, and cousin, business is a-boomin’.
Your description is about as vague as asking me if I know that girl in South Beach with the fake tits and bleached hair. But in any event, you might very well be describing this Monitaly jump off that Context Clothing has stubbornly yet to put on sale.
A pair of longwings so beautiful, women and children just start sobbing uncontrollably every time you enter a room, saying all sorts of weird shit like “it makes me sad because I’ve never seen such beautiful shoes before.”