Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Fashion tips from the street

By guest blogger Klara McMurray 
  

Inspiring, honest, slick, innovative, cracking though the mysteries and barriers to men’s fashion.

The Modern Gent cuts through the labyrinth set up by the fashion industry and offers the everyday man a direct connection to real guys who have mastered the art of looking good.

Just like women, men are also led to believe by magazines, billboards and celebrity endorsements that looking good involves a lot of money, time, and in most cases, expert advice. By finding men on the street (or anywhere else he may lurk) The Modern Gent shows us that dressing smart, finding one’s unique flare and standing out amongst the saggy jeans and hoodies of the world is both achievable and enjoyable.

The Modern Gent is not targeting the men in visibly expensive suits heading off to their third corporate meeting for the day. He’s targeting the man coming out of a coffee meeting with a potential client, the man who’s got the day off and reading in the park, the man who got dragged along to the party reluctantly and was having a pretty boring time until he was approached, interviewed and invited to be featured in this popular blog and all the way across social media.

The kick these guys get out of being asked, noticed, appreciated for their dress sense, by a man who obviously takes pride himself, is half of the blog’s charm.

The Modern Gent is about men, by a man, for men ... and the women who appreciate a well-dressed gent.

It complements the subject, enlightens the reader and empowers the dreamer that they too possess the ability to spiff up and strut!

Thursday, 10 September 2015

David

“I’m a jazz musician; a singer and trumpet player. I like to dress smart when I perform because I think jazz demands that kind of respect. I don’t understand when guys turn up to play in tee-shirts and jeans. I play a lot of weddings and corporate gigs, as well as venues around town. I’m comfortable with formal attire. I grew up around suits and wedding dresses because my parents were tailors in High St, Northcote. Unfortunately their business declined dramatically when Australia opened up free trade with China, and in fact were bankrupt within two years. I used to dress a little more expressively, but these days I just want to blend in."




Sunday, 6 September 2015

Marshal

"I'm a skinny guy so I wear skinny clothes. I tend toward the rockier side of things, and I guess I'm trying to keep abreast of the dressed-up Melbourne musician look, which is the dark colours, narrow jeans and boots, which are from Rocco's in Malvern. I went there to get them to make a custom pair, but I spotted these dark brown suede ones on the shelf from Portugal. They are a staple for me now. I own a couple of flatcaps, or 'cheesecutters' as I like to call them. This one I bought from Carlisle Accessories in East St. Kilda, and, being cotton, it doesn't make my head too hot on sunny days like this. The faux-leather jacket is a local Syke brand that was quite popular years ago. The scarf is just a cheap cotton thing which I suppose is a bit of a Jimmy Page tribute. He liked his scarves! Other players on the Melbourne blues scene I admire are Goat Piss Gasoline and Chris Russell's Chicken Walk. I love the blues, even though by no means am I a downtrodden, living on the street, missus kicked me out kinda guy. I'm just a regular guy doing something he enjoys."

Friday, 4 September 2015

Waltham, Cyma and I

Hello gents, Steve here.

The first picture is of the automatic component of my beloved Waltham Incabloc, purchased second-hand in the mid-1990s from a retro market in South Yarra, Australia. By then, this fella was already old, which didn't bother me at all. He looked perfect on my wrist. From that day on I knew he would be a defining part of who I wanted to be.

As the years rolled by, this beautiful piece became an integral part of me. I felt wrong without him. He never kept particularly good time, but that wasn't the point. For twenty years I wound him religiously, three turns per night before bed, much to the bemusement of girlfriends. I later learned that this was not completely necessary, but I don't regret it.

From time to time somebody would complement me on Waltham. This made me feel good, and that here was a person worth knowing. Such people were few and far between.

I often wondered who had previously owned him, where he had been, what he had seen, why he ended up at the place I found him. I always imagined he had been taken off the wrist of a dead man by a grieving relative and sold as part of a deceased estate. I'll never know.

He accompanied me through many phases of my life: high times gigging with the band, heady days as a young man flying free in the big city, my Tuesday morning radio show, my horrendous teacher training year, the first blush of love, marriage, the birth of my flame haired daughter, early fatherhood, depression, divorce, confusion, eventual renewal, uncertainty, depression again, and beyond.

Throughout all this, like a true friend, my trusty Waltham never left me. He never once judged, nor sneered.

Then, recently, he failed. He stopped once, revived, stopped again, and then again. Then finally, he died. The repair guy, someone I trusted, told me he wasn't worth saving, that he was a good watch but not a great watch, and that he had probably had his day.

I thought he was a great watch.

Anyway, after a few moments thought, I looked past the repair guy's hand, down into the display case, and saw a 1950s Cyma Navystar. My Cyma is quite beautiful, a real gent, and I suspect he will see me through until my last breath. He is a little like Waltham, but not quite; more like a cousin than a brother. He defines the new me, which is much like the old me, but maybe a little wiser and nicer. Hopefully.

I wonder what we will go through together, Cyma and I, and who will complement him.

But I do intend to always keep Waltham close by.


Friday, 21 August 2015

Jack

"I really like the way Dave Graney (Melbourne music icon) dresses. He's a total individual and not afraid to be himself. I try to do the same, but to a less extravagant degree. I bought this jacket at Greazefest in Brisbane from a hippie in tight pink pants. I found the shirt at the Espy hotel at a clothing sale, before it mysteriously closed its doors. I bought four groovy polyester ones just like this. Great in winter but a bit hot in summer. This outfit gets kudos from the good wife, who has her own fashion label, Bonsai Kitten. The black scarf goes with anything and has never been washed. In fact, you might want to run your lint roller over it now."




Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Jim

"I’ve worn hats since I was 18. I bought this one from City Hatters, beside Flinders St Station. It’s a trilby made by Akubra, the only style that suits me. My shoes are handmade by Rocco in Malvern. It’s a family business and all the musicians go there. I can kill cockroaches in the corner with these! I had my waistcoat and shirt handmade in Vietnam about 12 years ago and they’ve lasted very well. My daughter Grace buys cufflinks for me. I really like the bulky antique ones with coloured patterns. I don’t try to consciously match the things I wear, but it all seems to go together somehow if it’s worn with confidence. I like looking nice, even around the home; I don’t own casual clothes at all except for shorts to wear at gym. I admire Elvis Costello’s style. He’s all about straight lines and good quality clothes."

Friday, 7 August 2015

Bernard

"My grandfather, a tailor, made my waistcoat fourteen years ago for my engagement. It is in perfect condition. It's my favourite piece of clothing and goes with everything. I would describe my style as 'urban chic' - elegant yet comfortable in many different environments. Style is all about having that personal touch."