I dare you.
Go on. Go on.
I dare you.
I dare you to buy it. I dare you to put it on and wear it to a family christening. A pure parent-pisser-offer this. If I turned up at my Mum and Dad’s in this I’d get “Ohh Mark, what have you become?”
My answer would be along the lines of “Just a cool motherfucker, you feel me?” but then I’ve been watching The Wire a lot lately so what’s good for the Baltimore low rises may not be quite right for North East Cheshire. I’d get thrown out for swearing, and wearing a coat that oozes Chelsea Flower Show steez.
I’m 34 and no longer in the business of doing my Mum and Dad’s heads in. Not that I ever really was. But still, I’m at an age where I reckon if I wanted a jacket like this, then damn it, it’s a free country, I’ll buy one.
Whether I’ve got the minerals required for such a bold look remains to be seen. (I haven’t).
Number Six London
3 Comments
It’s the hood, I can’t get down with the hood.
Naaaaaah.
Hawaiian shirts are cool but a jacket might be to much.