Black Leather Upper

Sherlock. Julian Assange. A fucking dragon. He's a thin man, a contemplative man. A cunning man. He is the new face of a watch company, a shoe company and will be creating branded content for a men's fragrance soon. He's like James Bond for your single, older uncle that's all about WonderCon. But Benny C is so much more than just your run of the mill, Millhouse + Viggo M. He is deep. So deep that GQ profiled him in run of the mill, Benny C just doin' him. Intense, deep rollin' in the hills of Chesterfield or Barrymore or the Shire. 

"I have a gun. I hope I have a gun. There's totally a gun here. So, watch it buddy."

"Girl...it was only one time. She meant nothing. On her best day she couldn't hold a candle to you. Now get in the car, Sugartits".

"Ticketless. The fools."

"On Mondays, we serve cold soup. On Tuesdays, you must put tiny wool hats on the garden birds. Wednesday are reserved for reruns of Faulty Towers. Thursdays we shall peel grapes for the Prince. Fridays, we will be in love. There are no other days in this house. Don't ever look me in the eyes. For any reason."

"Ah ha, here I am. Surprise. Didn't think I could hear you? I did. I know everything. You were the one that planted the cocaine. Joseph is in jail and the dinner is spoiled. All because of you. And that woman. That devilish, devil woman." 

This topic has been done to death. Seriously wasn't going to write about it. But we can't let it go. We forgot about Dane Cook. Dan Cook forgot about Dane Cook. But the Bro is eternal. The confidence without a clue does not go away. We don't want it to. But Is the jean and sandals look truly bad?

It's pragmatic. It says "I just woke up at an Ugg wearing babe's house, slipped on  jeans still crinkled in squat position on the floor, slipped on my Rainbows and waked out for a Bloody Mary on the strand". There is an aspect of masculinity by baring one's foot. Stepping on a beachside syringe is a reality in Redondo, brah (only time I'll say 'brah'). Women are drawn to this bravado. 

Some bros are just so DGAF "I'm a billionaire and sit at a desk type numbers and whatever. I don't need to care because I'm so far out of your game."

There's outlier bros that do not follow suit. It's not style. It's bedlam. It's whatever they find in the closet. Sometimes, closets that are not they're own. Shoes are not shoes, it's preventative care to continue spiraling into the Never. To "Keep Walking" a la Johnny Walker, which they're drinking. It's the wild west in their minds. But goddamnit  their tippy-toes will be protected. 

But dressing like your dad from the mid-west on vacation in the Grand Canyon is now okay. It's so norm it's core. We've went all the way around. We're trying hard. So hard. Hard in an age where no one has anything to try for. But it's okay. Because warm feet.

Pragmatism reaches it fullest when you're running shit. I mean, the free world doesn't care that much. Putin has so much on Barry in terms of style but his country is comprised mostly by alcoholics—not that there's anything wrong with that—but Putin's riding horses and shooting llamas. B-Rock is on the go. Slip on and jet. Barry's probably the only one that can justifiably get away with any of this. 

Where does this leave us? Is the sandal/jean bro the pragmatic bro of bros? What do the free feet tell us about sexual conquest, wealth, mental illness and work? Jeans and sandals=freedom? A symbol of stoic, driven performers?

Sanuk Sidewalk Surfer.

An innovation in apathy and human degradation, nothing says "fuck you self-worth" than the Sidewalk Surfer. Such bro. So surf. DGAF.

Did you know Brad Pitt wanted to be an architect and he hired Frank Gehry to sensei his ass? Did you know that? He worked with Frank Pallero to design furniture.

He made a bed. You cannot buy it.