The magazine may have jumped the shark, what with featuring one of its own grizzled photographers as a cover model. Sibling publication Butt is in trouble. (That may simply mean we are overdue for a sequel to the Butt Book. Perhaps publish that, then pack it in?)
Nonetheless, I thought highly enough of Fantastic Man to have submitted several solicited article pitches.
Toe-mangling by Mr. FLUEVOG
Mr. JOHN FLUEVOG, a resident of Vancouver before European skiers ever heard of it in the context of an athletic competition, is known for just-barely-avant-garde footwear that members of the cultural elite can wear to attract discreet amounts of attention. While Fluevog soles are, famously, SATAN-RESISTANT, it seems the toe box also exerts its own resistance. My Angel model, its stitching slightly irregular on the right side, has diabolically crushed my great toenail. It is not only women whose feet suffer for fashion.
The ladies’ sweater
In the way that small-statured men – lower-percentile fellows the size of ginger American comedic actor Mr. SETH GREEN – can save a fortune by buying teens’ and boys’ sizes, the man of any size can exploit an advantage of a garment that serves either gender equally well. The sweater may accommodate the bosom, but unlike the blouse it is not equipped with darts, fabric, and shape to do so.
Hence the bosomless man may profit from an excursion into the territory of the ladies’ sweater. My handmade wool sweater, described in the press as “patchwork,” was found for a reasonable $70 at a local artisanal boutique. This shopping technique can be readily replicated by any man worldwide who feels a chill.
Consumed by flora
The acquisition of the tattoo is to not to be undertaken lightly. The skin illustration (pace Mr. BRADBURY) only occasionally can escape its connotations of branding and permanent regret and attain the level of fashion or creditable statement of individualism. A possibility exists in this regard: The floral tattoo, in which the body, consistent with the mythology of ashes and dust, comes to be consumed by flora. Mr. HUGH JACKMAN experienced complete consumption in Mr. DARREN ARONOFSKY’s overlooked science-fiction romance The Fountain. Meanwhile, accomplished photographer Mr. RICHARD RENALDI gives over his substantial form – leg first – to a creeping and encompassing vine.
In this way, man the animal can affirm allegiance with nature without ever having reference to mother. When exposed via short sleeve or pantalon, such skin illustrations complete, rather than undermine, an ensemble.
The impermeable hat
In the eternal quest to deflect precipitation without resembling a manchild in poncho and galoshes, there are occasions when an umbrella will not suffice. In gentle rain, yes. In a lashing storm or in snowfall, no. Here, to fight nature, one must reject natural materials. The impermeable hat, made of Gore-Tex (or, now that its patent is long expired, an analogue), can match any outerwear. In this regard the Seattle Sombrero must be recommended.
Waterproof, crushable, warm, and, in black-on-black model, functionally invisible despite its brims fore and aft, the Sombrero calls into question the fashionable man’s fealty to previous-century styles like the fedora and laughs at contemporary affectations like the porkpie. Both soggy messes become consigned to the trash bin when confronted with traversing the real world from A to B in other-than-fashion-shoot weather. Additionally, the Sombrero has the advantage of manifestly not being a Tilley Endurables hat, favourite accessory of retiree tourists.
Duckboots, even for Europeans
Along with seriously large washing machines and genuine dryers, surely the most perplexing lacuna in European culture is the foul-weather boot. At the opposite end of the body from the ruined fedora are the shoes ruined from walking, Miss GRACE JONES–style, in the rain. Here again we must concede American superiority in the form of the duckboot, so named because of the rounded toe edge with top flutes that resemble the foot of a duck. These discreet, well-shaped boots look like one is wearing something waterproof without invalidating the rest of an outfit, especially any pantalon breaking on the duckboot. While we are not willing to endure violated feet for fashion, we are equally unwilling to endure violated fashion for dry feet.
For 2010, a reliable duckboot source, L.L. Bean of the state of Maine, has rediscovered its own history through its Signature line of reinvented classics, including a high-top variant that may suit the more rugged among us.
In the style of inexperienced editors everywhere, Fantastic Man failed to respond. They had their chance.