Dress Like A Woman, Shop Like A Man

We're in an unprecedented era. Not since the days of powdered wigs, fine silk hose, and winkle-pickers have men been as preoccupied (and financially invested) in clothes and style as the women-folk are.

Men are also tragically picking up on some of the bad habits of our hot voluptuous counterparts. How else can you explain True Religion jeans? What's the point of having giant button-flap pockets on the ass of your jeans? How're hot chicks supposed to look at your ass? Or what about otherwise lovely button-up shirts utterly ruined by terrible meaningless silk screens?

Giant Prada sunglasses are, however, quite acceptable.

Nevertheless, we still have the upper hand in general clothing versatility, durability, and universality. A suit's a suit, despite changing pant cuffs and lapel widths. Even the last great attire innovation, the wearing of a sport coat with a t-shirt, can be traced all the way back to before World War 2. I shit you not. There are pictures.

In that same span of time women's wear has gone through countless iterations, sometimes from year to year. For the versatility of every suit a man owns, a woman needs a half-dozen dresses. For every pair of dress shoes a man has, a woman needs three.

Or does she?

Timelessness and versatility exist in womens' clothes and besides, it's not so much about what you buy, but how you buy it.

So how does a man shop?

And by "a man" I mean "me as proxy for all man-kind."

1. I shop for a purpose. I go out looking for something that I perceive I have a need for in my wardrobe. A grey suit. White button-down dress shirt. Wool v-neck sweaters. A wrist watch with a black leather band. Brown belt to match my brown shoes. I'm not saying my need is anything more than a perceived one, but I perceive of my need, nine times out of ten, before I go out shopping.

2. I shop for timelessness. I'll admit that I sometimes am overwhelmed by impulse, but I try to temper that impulse with an attempt at objectively assessing the longevity of my proposed purpose. To that end, I'm more likely to shell out more money for something that I'll wear for years (suits, dress shirts, shoes, jeans, coats, watch) than I will for something that's pretty damn cool but of a less durable and more disposable nature (t-shirts, shorts, socks, underwear). How many $20 t-shirts do you go through in the lifespan of a $150 pair of jeans? Or a $200 wool coat, for that matter?

3. I put money where it counts. Or at least I like to think so. For instance I wear $5 H&M underwear. It fits great. It looks great. And it lasts just as long as the $30 Diesel underwear. Need a solid t-shirt for general purposes? Spend $10 or less at the outlet mall instead of $80 on Hugo Boss. Will the Hugo t-shirt last a bit longer than the Gap tee? Maybe, but not by much. And socks. One can really waste money on socks. All my women friends bitch that they spend $20 on a pair of stockings and there's a run in it the next day. $20. Gone forever. There's no reason to spend more than $10 on a pair of socks. Usually much much less. Socks get smelly. They get holes in them. They won't make your shoes any more comfortable. They serve little additional purpose than to ease the transition from shoe to pant.

4. I shop for quality. For instance, the $249 H&M slim fit suit is made of the same ultra-soft Super100 Italian wool as many $2000 designer suits. Same for their sport coats. The denim quality and stitching strength of $50 Levis is superior to $200 Mavis. Refer back to my discussions of shoes and watches as well. When you know what makes for quality construction and material, you're able to transcend designers and labels and just buy some nice clothes that you'll wear a lot.

What're the analogues you, ladies, can draw? Good jeans (that actually fit, not just on your "skinny" days). A couple black dresses. Sweaters. A couple timelessly cut sundresses. A pencil skirt. A (not too mini) skirts. A handful of pantsuits and two-pieces. Regular old tank tops, not spaghetti straps. Regular girls' t-shirts, not baby dolls. I'll stop pretending I know too much about women's clothes.

And when it comes to underwear, nothing is sexier than a matching set that isn't too granny and isn't too stripper. And that can cost $5.

We're just excited that we get to see it.