The only time it’s appropriate to wear a robe: when you’re a werewolf and there’s an ugly, bad actress in your kitchen. Or is it?
Last night I went out with a friend to this cool new bar/restaurant down in Echo Park. Before I’d even seen the place, I knew the kind of crowd this place was going to attract. Not only is it a microbrewery with 40+ types of beer, but it is a re-purposed movie theater in the middle of the most hipster neighborhood in all of Los Angeles. Needless to say, I was rocking my plaid and skinny jeans. The beer was awesome. I had a coffee porter, a Blue House IPA, and this awesome chocolate beer. I also caught a glimpse of this little pizza thing, that after two beers was looking crazy delicious. But I digress from the real message I’m trying to impart. So we’re at this bar, drinking delicious beer, mixing it with the LA hipsters, and that’s when I see the most marvelously confusing wardrobe choice, even for a beard-sporting, wood-chucking, thick-framed-glasses-wearing hipster.
So you know those bath robes you wear around the house? The huge flannel ones with the two big pockets where you can comfortably store both the remote and a bottle of beer? Yeah. He was wearing one of those as a shirt… in the middle of a bar. He was also sporting a lovely, stained white tank top. Initially all I wanted to do was laugh in his face, but as the night progressed and I got tipsier and tipsier, I just wanted to steal the damned robe and wear it myself. I totally think I could rock it, especially if I didn’t shave for a few days and matched it with a killer pair of boots. I tried like hell to get a picture of this dude’s get-up, but unfortunately the bar was really dark and it would have been incredibly obvious if I turned the flash on my camera phone. But if anyone is looking for a “Happy September” gift to send me, I would be happy to recreate the outfit so we can all have an informed conversation around this potential new wardrobe breakthrough.
Matteo “Flannel” Yazge