Apocalypse Chic

Polar Edition

I’m writing this from a flight to Chicago for a menswear trade show. It’s been snowing for 24 hours. Below me, the city is blanketed white, and I know exactly what awaits: sub-zero temperatures, slush that soaks through inadequate footwear, city grime mixing with snow to create a particularly urban cocktail of misery, and wind that whips through avenues like a knife.

I’ve dressed accordingly.

Alpine hiking boots anchor me to the ground. Amundsen of Norway corduroy gaiter pants—waxed cotton below the knee, seriously ready to conquer the Matterhorn—protect me from whatever slushy chaos Chicago has waiting. A custom wool and cotton flannel shirt in hunter green. Sid Mashburn wool military jacket in earthy glencheck tweed. Blue cashmere topcoat. Crushable Italian fedora. Silk scarf and green suede gloves.

On the bottom, I’m ready to hike a mountain or après-ski like a subject captured by Slim Aarons. On top, I’m layered in elevated, business-appropriate casual. In my industry you could probably wear a bearskin coat and not offend, but that’s beside the point.