Congratulations to Tommy Hilfiger's latest, appearing in this month's GQ. My God, who puts a sweater over his shoulders when he's not even wearing a shirt? And why are those croquet balls mixing it up with those golf balls? Why is it hot enough to play croquet shirtless but cold enough to play golf with a blazer over some kind of warm-up zippie thing? Why are they dressing all Savannah and Palm Beach, all pastel and sockless, in what is clearly New England, due to the vegetation? Why did the gardeners do such a terrible job on that grass? And is it or is it not white shoe season? And when did they get matching love bracelets made out of their grandfather's ties? Why is Tommy Hilfiger representing his stores as being based in New York, Shanghai, Milan and Istanbul? I mean, there's one in the Jersey Gardens mall in Elizabeth, NJ, too, for starters. Other than all that, I want to live inside here, except it looks kind of humid.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
29
This is clearly the muddled result of asking a very gay shoot stylist to do "sporty."
"He says he wants it to read sporty"
"Oh god, I don't know...throw some balls in there!"
Soooo humid.
Clearly Choire has never played a shirts vs. skins game of Croquet Golf.
*Cancels weekend plans.*
Look, Muffy. A geigh twinset for us.
Valid points all but quit procrastinating and get cracking on tsunamis and meltdowns in Talk Of The Town.
I like how an issue of the New Yorker is right behind the GQ issue, like Choire is a teen trying to get one off to porn in his room.
OH WAIT
Choire, you answered all these questions when you said "Tommy Hilfiger."
it is never white shoe season
thank you.
Does Savannah have a style?
why do you hate paula dean?
Who cares about style? They have to-go cups!
As the only actual Georgian here, I guess it falls to me to explain the elements of Savannah style. The elements are: roaring drunk on something disgusting, manic and jittery from energy drinks, and blasted out of your mind on someone else's pills.
I think Choire may have been aiming for Augusta and missed.
casual racism.
I would like to buy a round of penis filled socks for everyone.
Dare we mention the jaunty Red Hot Chili Peppers-esque swathing of mashies in sweat socks?
Since when is one shirtless man lounging idly against another man gay!
Hopefully in the swimwear ad they're playing water polo with marbles.
The wolf-men ran as fast as they could, taking the shortest path, and the other members of the club took a roundabout way, entertaining themselves by gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and gathering bouquets of little flowers.
It was not long before the wolf-men arrived and pretended to be lounging about as if playing with balls. They looked up: flash, flash.
"Why are you photographing us?"
"What fine Easter outfits you to have on,” replied all who could see them, counterfeiting their voices; "we need good pictures for our Facebook pages, and to show that we are with you at the club."
The good crowd, who was all excited, cried out, "Pull off your sweater, and your abs will show up."
The wolf-men obliged, and the crowd immediately fell upon them to further study every aspect of their beings, for it had been more than a day since they had purchased anything, and the internet service as working. Then they stood there for a bit longer listening to the clicks and feeling the light bulbs heat up their faces: flash flash.
The wolf-men, seeing the pleased crowd, said to them, hiding themselves under the lilac, olive and oyster trousers-- all rolled up at the bottom, "Put the cake and the little pot of money upon the stool, and come get into bed with me."
The crowd took off their clothes and got into bed. They were greatly amazed to see how their two new wolf-friends looked in their day clothes, and said to them, "Wow, what arms and abs you have!"
"All the better to hug you with, my dears."
"Wow, what big legs you have!"
"All the better to stand here wearing these pants, my friends."
"Wow, what sunglasses you have!"
"Yes, aren’t they perfect? Don’t you want some? All the better to have you take more pictures of us, my dears."
"Wow, what varied and colored socks you have over each of your clubs!"
"All the better to keep you interested, my friends."
"Wow, what big teeth you have got!"
"All the better to eat you up with."
And, saying these words, the observant crowd fell upon themselves, and immediately went out to purchase identical outfits.
THE END
With apologies to Charles Perrault and to your dear readers.
Those teardrop aviators are so not Golf or Croquet. Unless you're playing against P-Diddy.
That young man looks very proud of his smooth little torso--he was probably supposed to be wearing that sweater and just flat out refused.
one of the guys also has a wedding ring on?
They're in Iowa.
Maybe their not gay but just weekend fuck buds?
He's married to croquet golf.