Simon Doonan. Like Tim Gunn, if he's wearing it, it's fashionable. Deal with it, Came across an article on the Internet a while back in which fashionable writer Simon Doonan identified the Five Tribes of current male fashion, which he identified as the Perverse Prepster, the Arty Ninja, the Dedicated Follower of Satin, the Statham, and the subject of this piece, the Schlub. Schlubs, according to Noonan, are “a significant and growing number of today’s men (who) remain willfully indifferent to the siren call of la mode."
Not to put too fine a point on it, Simon, but “significant and growing” are the wrong adjectives here. Try “the vast majority of males since the dawn of prehistory” and you’ll come quite a bit closer to the actual number of men indifferent to the call of fashion.
Guys think they look good the way they are, and always have. From the first Neanderthal who thought to wipe his mouth on his furs instead of his forearm, through loin-clothed Egyptians building pyramids, to knights squeezing into armor, to modern, cutting-edge slobs in sweats and holey t-shirts, men have always looked at their image in the surface of the pond, or a mirror after it was invented, and thought to themselves “You’re rockin’ it, bro.”
I am not going to argue with Doonan about actual fashion here, since I am certain that he is right about everything fashionable, along with knowing everything and being right about furniture, clubbing, dining and gossip as well. I am also certain that he, in the annoying way of gay men, is utterly indifferent to subjects straight guys might be better versed on--fixing things, killing animals for food and disarming nuclear warheads. Especially disarming nuclear warheads while a glowing clock that is easily visible to the movie audience ticks down to zero—FYI, It’s always cutting the red wire. I pass this along just in case someone plants a nuclear warhead someplace where there are no straight men to be found, like the set of Project Runway.
But we schlubs can easily be divided in sub-tribes as well. We’re not just a bunch of guys who refuse to wear skinny jeans because they defeat the purpose of real jeans—giving your cajones a comfortable place to hang out. All our clothes are not interchangeable. Here are the Five Tribes of Schlubs, along with my reasons for not belonging to four of them, and also an estimate of whether or not they ever get sex.
GUYS WHO WEAR SPORTS JERSEYS AND TEAM BASEBALL CAPS AT ALL TIMES
These guys are generally found in sports bars, and their main activity is arguing about which multi-millionaire All Star with a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model for a girlfriend is the biggest loser. I don’t fit in here, because I realize that no matter how many times I wear a Justin Verlander jersey out in public, Kate Upton is not going to screw me by mistake.
How often do these guys get laid? More often than they deserve.
GUYS WHO WEAR CAMOUFLAGE WHEN THEY ARE NOT HUNTING
The purpose of this style is to let other people know that these guys own at least twelve firearms and a composite hunting bow, along with ten years’ supply of bullets, arrows and drinking water. Also, camouflage guys always wish they were in a freezing hunting blind, sipping whiskey and waiting for the sun to come up. We wish they were there, too.
When do these guys get laid? When they quit trying to make their women eat venison.
GUYS WHO WEAR JEAN SHORTS CUT OFF SO HIGH THEIR POCKETS HANG OUT OF THEM, LEAVING THEIR CAR KEYS AND SPARE BULLETS CLEARLY VISIBLE AS LUMPS AGAINST THEIR HAIRY, SPOTTED LEGS
These men are disgusting. You don’t need any gay sensibility whatsoever to notice that. Just back off slowly if you see any. Leave them to their entertainment, which is usually polishing off an eighteen pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon and watching a bug zapper.
How often do these guys get laid? Surprisingly often. By their female relatives.
GUYS WHO WEAR THE SAME CLOTHES EVERY DAY
There’s a reason for this. It could be the wearer has been awake and playing World of Warcraft since he graduated high school. Or he’s just too stoned to remember the laundromat where he left the rest of his clothes. In either case he doesn’t smell good. The clothes reek of dried sweat and the breath smells of Hot Pockets. A subcategory of this group are the guys who wear pants in the same waist size as they wore when they were 18, even though they’re sixty pounds heavier now.
How often? Never.
GUYS WHO KNOW NOTHING ABOUT FASHION BUT TRY TO AVOID WEARING UGLY STUFF ANYWAY
This is my group. Sure, we can't remember the difference between a cravat and a cummerbund and yeah, we wear bland shit all the time. Our uniform in the summer is shorts and a t-shirt, but it’s not running shorts (unless we’re running) and a T-shirt that says “Tijuana Pussy Posse.” Even though Casual Friday comes but once a week, we own a closet full of polo shirts in boring solids to wear on it. We don’t wear hats with more than one thing printed on them. We don’t wear plaids and stripes together. We don’t buy clothes at either Walmart or Spencer’s Gifts. We blend in.
How often do we get laid? Whenever our wives and girlfriends have been drinking. Just as God intended.
Not to put too fine a point on it, Simon, but “significant and growing” are the wrong adjectives here. Try “the vast majority of males since the dawn of prehistory” and you’ll come quite a bit closer to the actual number of men indifferent to the call of fashion.
Guys think they look good the way they are, and always have. From the first Neanderthal who thought to wipe his mouth on his furs instead of his forearm, through loin-clothed Egyptians building pyramids, to knights squeezing into armor, to modern, cutting-edge slobs in sweats and holey t-shirts, men have always looked at their image in the surface of the pond, or a mirror after it was invented, and thought to themselves “You’re rockin’ it, bro.”
I am not going to argue with Doonan about actual fashion here, since I am certain that he is right about everything fashionable, along with knowing everything and being right about furniture, clubbing, dining and gossip as well. I am also certain that he, in the annoying way of gay men, is utterly indifferent to subjects straight guys might be better versed on--fixing things, killing animals for food and disarming nuclear warheads. Especially disarming nuclear warheads while a glowing clock that is easily visible to the movie audience ticks down to zero—FYI, It’s always cutting the red wire. I pass this along just in case someone plants a nuclear warhead someplace where there are no straight men to be found, like the set of Project Runway.
But we schlubs can easily be divided in sub-tribes as well. We’re not just a bunch of guys who refuse to wear skinny jeans because they defeat the purpose of real jeans—giving your cajones a comfortable place to hang out. All our clothes are not interchangeable. Here are the Five Tribes of Schlubs, along with my reasons for not belonging to four of them, and also an estimate of whether or not they ever get sex.
GUYS WHO WEAR SPORTS JERSEYS AND TEAM BASEBALL CAPS AT ALL TIMES
These guys are generally found in sports bars, and their main activity is arguing about which multi-millionaire All Star with a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model for a girlfriend is the biggest loser. I don’t fit in here, because I realize that no matter how many times I wear a Justin Verlander jersey out in public, Kate Upton is not going to screw me by mistake.
How often do these guys get laid? More often than they deserve.
GUYS WHO WEAR CAMOUFLAGE WHEN THEY ARE NOT HUNTING
The purpose of this style is to let other people know that these guys own at least twelve firearms and a composite hunting bow, along with ten years’ supply of bullets, arrows and drinking water. Also, camouflage guys always wish they were in a freezing hunting blind, sipping whiskey and waiting for the sun to come up. We wish they were there, too.
When do these guys get laid? When they quit trying to make their women eat venison.
GUYS WHO WEAR JEAN SHORTS CUT OFF SO HIGH THEIR POCKETS HANG OUT OF THEM, LEAVING THEIR CAR KEYS AND SPARE BULLETS CLEARLY VISIBLE AS LUMPS AGAINST THEIR HAIRY, SPOTTED LEGS
These men are disgusting. You don’t need any gay sensibility whatsoever to notice that. Just back off slowly if you see any. Leave them to their entertainment, which is usually polishing off an eighteen pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon and watching a bug zapper.
How often do these guys get laid? Surprisingly often. By their female relatives.
GUYS WHO WEAR THE SAME CLOTHES EVERY DAY
There’s a reason for this. It could be the wearer has been awake and playing World of Warcraft since he graduated high school. Or he’s just too stoned to remember the laundromat where he left the rest of his clothes. In either case he doesn’t smell good. The clothes reek of dried sweat and the breath smells of Hot Pockets. A subcategory of this group are the guys who wear pants in the same waist size as they wore when they were 18, even though they’re sixty pounds heavier now.
How often? Never.
GUYS WHO KNOW NOTHING ABOUT FASHION BUT TRY TO AVOID WEARING UGLY STUFF ANYWAY
This is my group. Sure, we can't remember the difference between a cravat and a cummerbund and yeah, we wear bland shit all the time. Our uniform in the summer is shorts and a t-shirt, but it’s not running shorts (unless we’re running) and a T-shirt that says “Tijuana Pussy Posse.” Even though Casual Friday comes but once a week, we own a closet full of polo shirts in boring solids to wear on it. We don’t wear hats with more than one thing printed on them. We don’t wear plaids and stripes together. We don’t buy clothes at either Walmart or Spencer’s Gifts. We blend in.
How often do we get laid? Whenever our wives and girlfriends have been drinking. Just as God intended.
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