Innholdsfortegnelse for September 2021 i Esquire

IN EARLY MAY, AFTER RECEIVING MY second dose of the Covid vaccine, I ventured into the world for the first time in forever. I started going into the office regularly; I took in-person meetings; I met friends for drinks at actual bars; I went on dates with my wife. It was fantastic. What didn’t feel good was my wardrobe. Now that life had begun anew, I needed to look put together, or at least not like a schlub. While I was grateful to wear something more refined than my quarantine outfit—jeans, T-shirt, a pair of well-worn Vans—I was unmoved by my options. Clothes I’d once loved now reminded me of the fifteen months I’d spent not wearing them. Getting dressed was a chore. The whole thing left me feeling uneasy. And…

1. GIRAFFA TABLE LAMP Fluorescent lighting putting you in a dark mood? Illuminate your work area with the Giraffa, a table lamp that somehow looks even more brilliant than the light it puts out. $290; lightology.com 2. FIELD + SUPPLY TRIANGLE LEATHER VALET TRAY Place all the important objects strewn about your desk into a leather valet tray like this. Or don’t. It looks just as good empty as it does full. $325; fieldandsupply.com 3. FIELD + SUPPLY BRASS LETTER OPENER Instead of using an old set of Fiskars, try slicing through boxes, blister packs, and the odd sandwich with something civilized, like this leather-wrapped brass blade. $216; fieldandsupply.com 4.DWR TABLE GREENHOUSE Bad news: Your office plants are probably all dead. Good news: There’s never been a better time for…

USED TO BE, a varsity jacket was what you pulled over your shoulders after scoring the game-winning point against East. That was then. Reinvigorated over the past decade or so by high-fashion houses like Saint Laurent and indie labels like the Brooklyn Circus, it’s now the jacket of cool-guy rockers, streetwear savants, and, this fall, you. Wear yours with everything from scuffed boots and faded denim to tailored trousers and pin-sharp dress shoes. Layer it over a sweater vest (see page 54) or throw it on with track pants and sneakers if you want to lean into the athletic associations. However you choose to wear it, the varsity is a bona fide icon of American cool that should have a spot in your wardrobe. Buzzerbeaters very much not required. Sweater…

IN THE PANTHEON of can I pull it off? the sweater vest is especially perplexing. “What is this for?” we ask as we stare at the enigmatic, sleeveless wonder once considered fuddy-duddy even for the most classics-professor-ish classics professor. It wasn’t always so—in fact, the sweater vest was once the province of jocks. In menswear, it dates back at least to 1907, when University of Michigan football players were awarded versions with an embroidered M to celebrate their on-field achievements. It was downright chic around the jazz age—certainly Jay Gatsby would’ve had one or five in his closet—but became the mark of the geek by midcentury, adopted by grandpas and fusty academics. Since then it has at times swung back into fashion—the Ralph Lauren–clad, prepster-studded ’80s were a particularly good…

EVERYONE IS A DISRUPTER THESE DAYS, EXPRESSING their maverick selves by undercutting style rules that, let’s face it, no one actually cares about anymore. But if disruption is a rebellion against norms, there is one perhaps surprising way to out-disrupt everyone right now: Put on a suit. And a tie. Not just any suit, of course. And not just any tie. You don’t want to be confused with your city comptroller. Look for sharper cuts, higher waists, and even a structured shoulder. Pair them with dress shirts with taller collars, slim belts, and sharp ankle boots with a definite heel. This isn’t the soft, millennial Italian vibe you remember from a decade ago. There’s a harder edge to it—think eighties Anglo-French style or thirty-something Bryan Ferry in a suit—and it has…

IS THAT HIM? There’s a guy hovering over the asphalt, way, way down the street, a head with a ball cap and sunglasses. When you can see his whole body, it turns out he’s riding a bicycle, which was why it looked like he was hovering. He’s half standing on the bike, one leg straight, lips pursed to the relative wind, like a kid cruising to the bike racks at school. The bike maintains speed even though he’s not pedaling. He wears long pants, though the weather is warm. This could be the start of the article, I’m thinking. But what’s this? There’s another guy hovering behind him, on another bike. Two people. So maybe it’s not him? Except now that he’s closer, it’s almost definitely him: craggily handsome face,…

CORY JUNEAU AWAITS HIS TURN IN THE BOWL AT A SKATE PARK IN Encinitas, California, one of his go-to spots when he’s home in San Diego. He peers over the lip. “Homie’s teaching the young locals how to skate,” he says. An instructor is working with a kid—a grom, in skaterspeak—no older than six and wearing pads on every limb. The grom wipes out. This will take a minute, so Juneau kills time by riding along the bowl’s perimeter. He lands a kickflip but fudges the heelflip that follows. “My legs are so sore,” he says, slightly embarrassed. It’s late May, and he just got back from competing in the Dew Tour, as in Mountain Dew, in Iowa, where he placed eighth. But it’s no big deal, since he’s already a…

STORE INFORMATION For the items featured in Esquire, please consult the website or call the phone number provided. The Method, p. 47: The Brooklyn Circus jacket, 718-858-0919. P. 50: 18 East cargo pants, sahasika jacket, and double-knee pants, 646-866-4238. 18 East x Standard Issue T-shirt, 646-866-4238. 18 East shirt jacket, 18east. co. 18 East x Kanata sweater, 18east.co. 18 East x Padmore & Barnes boots, 18east.co. P. 52: Cartier watch, cartier.com. P. 54: Marine Serre sweater vest, turtleneck, and hat, marineserre.com. It’s Time to …Really Start Dressin’, p. 62: Husbands suit, shirt, and tie, husbands-paris.com. Christian Louboutin boots, christianlouboutin.com. P. 64: Husbands belt, husbands-paris.com. Charvet tie, mrporter.com. Asprey briefcase, asprey.com. P. 66: Boss jacket and trousers, hugoboss.com. Gabriela Hearst sweater, gabrielahearst.com. Velva Sheen T-shirt, endclothing.com. Malone Souliers boots, malonesouliers.com. Tom…

COMMANDER DAVID FRAVOR of the U. S. Navy was behind the controls of a fighter jet over the Pacific Ocean in 2004 when he spotted something weird. It hovered over the water, churning it so forcefully that it appeared to be boiling. Moments later, the object accelerated away from him at a shocking speed. In 2015, another Navy pilot spied a fastmoving object at low altitude over the Atlantic. “What the fuck is that thing?” he radioed, a sentiment that basically everyone who heard about the two incidents shared. What the fuck is that thing? STATISTICALLY SPEAKING, IT’S VERY UNLIKELY THAT WE ARE ALONE. We’ve been wondering pretty much exactly that for as long as humans have walked the earth, searching for meaning and connection in the skies above us.…

I COULDN’T TELL WHETHER MR. PINK HAD A KNIFE ON HIM. Usually he did. It was an afternoon in July 2020, and the sun beamed down on Sing Sing, baking the B Block yard’s blacktop. By now the first wave of Covid, which had breached the prison in March and killed a guard and four prisoners, had mostly passed, and everyone was glad to be outside. I knew Mr. Pink had a beef with me. But since I’d moved to B Block several weeks earlier, he hadn’t made anything of it. Jogging along the perimeter fence capped with whorled razor wire, I glanced in my periphery at him and another grimy guy seated at a metal picnic table each time I passed. They were watching me, scheming. Looking to make…

The experiment was fun while it lasted, but now that the world is open again, there’s something, well, kinda fuckin’ tragic about your face looking like Grizzly Adams’s Chia Pet. Sorry, man. It’s time to start taking care of that beard. Fortunately, the process isn’t as intimidating as you might think. Just make like Mr. Adams and sharpen your knife, gaze at your reflection in the still waters of a mountain lake, and get to work. Or simply follow along with our instructions and wind up looking 272 percent better than a hermit who hangs out with bears all day. Your call. —GARRETT MUNCE Beard Care 101 Whether you’re new to the beard game or just need a refresher, these are the basics. FOR GOD’S SAKE, WASH YOUR BEARD Think…

WHILE SOME MAY ENJOY THE EYEBROW raising disruption of wearing a suit when you absolutely don’t have to wear a suit, there’s something equally satisfying about fine-tuning a look designed to be eminently at-home, no matter the situation. About putting together an outfit that you can wear to do the thing you’re doing (work, golf, meeting the in-laws) and then to have a drink or three later. It’s time to start thinking about how to stretch a fit in anticipation of spontaneity, because spontaneity is back, baby. Of course, your inner cozy boy knows that our collective discovery that comfort really is king isn’t going anywhere. And your subconscious stunter is just itching for a reason to flaunt some personal style again. That these impulses might seem to be at odds…

I REMEMBER THE NIGHT MY DAD SLEPT IN OUR FAMILY’S restaurant. Broken glass was scattered across the floor of the storefront that I had swept hours earlier. The cash register was overturned. Nothing was in it but pennies. Some food was taken. It could have been worse. That night, he came back with a foldable reclining beach chair—one of those things meant for sunbathing—and lay there, half awake, with a gun inside a fanny pack. The next day, he boarded up the door with plywood. But he continued to sleep there, occasionally sitting in the restaurant’s Ford Econoline van when he was restless, tuning in to the smooth-jazz station on the radio, CD 101.9. My sister and I didn’t understand. Was he waiting for the thieves to return? Did he just…

You’d be forgiven for thinking that Once More to the Sky is a book about a building—the Freedom Tower, a $4 billion monument to sweat, stamina, and union labor, scything through ten years of setbacks and infighting to loom 1,776 feet over New York City. Yet at its heart, Once More to the Sky, from which this article was adapted, is a book about people, in all their venality, imperfection, and generosity. In these ten riveting stories, originating in Esquire and collected together for the first time, along with never-before-seen photos, Scott Raab traces the human saga behind the colossal rebuilding at One World Trade Center. From the backroom dealing of real estate tycoons to the Herculean efforts of construction workers, the devastation of a city to the healing of…

CHALK IT UP TO THE VACCINATED MASSES WHO never want the party to end: Like so many drinks once spurned, then embraced, by cocktail snobs, the espresso martini has finally gained the respect it deserves. Unlike its ignoble cousin, Red Bull and vodka, the espresso martini—which looks like the cocktail equivalent of a tuxedo—combines vodka, espresso, and coffee liqueur to offer late-night revelers a refined mindset: I’ll keep going, but I’ll keep it classy. Now you can sip loving riffs everywhere from New York’s Eleven Madison Park to Los Angeles’s Thunderbolt. Or you can riff at home: Swap the espresso for cold-brew concentrate. Or replace the traditionally used Kahlúa with a liqueur from a craft distiller such as St. George, Galliano, or, our favorite, Mr Black, whose robust, dry version the…

AS A HOUSEHOLD NAME, Cartier has mass and snob appeal. It’s unselfconsciously fancy and reassuringly expensive, with a back catalog of watches that climb into the $100,000 range—enough to make even the most out-of-touch trust-funder blush. At the same time, it’s mindful of the broader market of folks who simply can’t shell out that much. And as it edges toward its bicentenary (it was founded in 1847), Cartier is making moves that are both modern and surprisingly accessible. The Tank Must series, which hits stores this month, is a new riff on the Cartier Tank that nods to a popular generation of watches introduced in the late 1970s. “Les Must” is French slang for fun things, trendy things, things you just have to have, and “Must de Cartier” is a…

For a while there, putting on clothes felt pointless. We dressed for screens, pets, maybe partners, but not much else. We stopped trying. Now it’s time to try again. And dammit, we’re going to win—by achieving that exceptional feeling you get when you size yourself up in the mirror and know what you’re wearing is going to hold up functionally, shine in the eyes of those who see you, and make you feel confident and whole. We’re back. IN THE FOLLOWING PAGES, WE OFFER THREE WAYS TO PREPARE FOR THE RETURN TO REAL LIFE. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE (& MAYBE EVEN MIX AND MATCH).…

DRESSING TO THE NINES? SHOOTING FOR THE high/low sweet spot? Both good options. But here’s the thing: Even as they push things forward, they both also presume a return to some sort of sartorial baseline. What if, instead of nodding to the past, you want to charge headlong into a future of your own design? The best way to do it is to take all the slouchy, stretchy, somewhat-wild stuff you lived in at home over the past year-plus but never had the opportunity or audacity to wear IRL before and just fuckin’ go for it. Throw on your kookiest cardigan over a pair of plum-colored track pants, then throw open the front door and step boldly out into the world. Wear a tie-dye sweatshirt. Wear tie-dye socks. Wear them together!…

__ YOU CAN BE a great singer, have great songs, be a great performer—and it still might not happen. __ I GRADUATED SECOND in my high school class. I was in prelaw in college. And then I discovered playing guitar. I finally had to make a phone call to my mom and say, “I’m going to drop out of college, sell everything I have, and move to Nashville.” I said that wincing, expecting a rebuke, but got “If you don’t do it, you’ll always regret it.” They say you’re not supposed to FIGHTin front of your kids. __ MY OLDEST DAUGHTER wanted to move to L. A. It was tough. But I was 18 or 19 wanting to move to Nashville. How can I say, “Well, I did it, but…

My first date with photographer Joe Woolhead was a four-hundred-mile drive to Portsmouth, Virginia, where the Freedom Tower steel I had seen rolled in Luxembourg was arriving to be fabricated before delivery to the World Trade Center. I was so transfixed by Joe’s raving lust for Thin Lizzy that a Virginia trooper pulled us over and handed me the first and only speeding ticket I’ve ever gotten. Next morning, Joe was a few minutes late for our departure, and I was having none of that, not on this job. “We,” baby. Not you, not me: we. I referred to him as “the putz with the camera” in one story—but by the time I wrote that, we were already friends. Joe’s an Irishman; like so many who come from all over…

AS HE OPENS THE DOOR TO HIS BABY-BLUE BMW CONVERTIBLE, Leslie Odom Jr. announces our itinerary for this sweltering June morning. First, coffee. Next: deliver breakfast pastries to his parents, then to Lucy, his four-year-old daughter, and his mother- and father-in-law. These relatives, Odom explains as we climb into the car, all live within a five-block radius of the home he and his wife, Nicolette Robinson, share with Lucy and their five-month-old son. Yes, Odom is an eager family man—one of several traits you might consider… corny. There’s also song-and-dance man (thanks, in large part, to his Tony-winning role in Hamilton), self-help author (book title: Failing Up: How to Take Risks, Aim Higher, and Never Stop Learning), and jazz vocalist (he has released not one but two albums of holiday…