Rebirth of blue.

Repost from guest spot over at Inspiring Gentleman?. Check them out.

My style could be roughly classified as new blue collar casual. Three items make up my base level daily wear: plain blue jeans, plain pocket T’s, old school vans. Jeans may be switched up with a heavier work pant. Add ons can consist of button ups, crew neck sweater, plain zip up sweatshirt, work jacket, etc.

I rarely, if ever, wear logo’d or heavily branded items. I have no desire to advertise for others after having already paid them once to wear their clothes. I don’t wear slogans or tags for the same reason I dislike bumper stickers. My beliefs are my own. I live them. I don’t broadcast them.
I wear what i live. Simple rugged clothes for a simple but at times rugged life. Although I understand and own the necessities for special occasion needs, I don’t daily wear anything I can’t roll up the sleeves of, dip one knee into the dirt, dig a toe in, and do something myself. I try to never look dirty or disheveled, but I don’t shy away from a dirty project.
I appreciate the current return in fashion to work wear and blue collar styles. I understand the resurgence in job specific looks, i.e. lumberjack shirts. The concentration on quality material and construction is absolutely a positive one. The attention paid to the where and how of production will hopefully push for improvements overall in the marketplace.
I only hope the look will also drive a change in attitude of the wearer. Look the part? Act the part. Learn to do it yourself. Own some basic tools. Go to the library or the bookstore. The home/auto repair, diy section of almost any library can be found chock full of books on any question you have. Get your hands dirty. Get your brain greasy.
One thing I always admired in my father was his ability to answer a question. If he didn’t know, he’d find out. He’d approach any problem hands on. Of course this meant more than one unfixed, seriously dismantled appliance around the house, but not every battle’s a win. My father continued in the long line of men who fixed things. Being your own man meant doing on your own. This used to be the norm. Grandfathers and fathers dismantling the lawnmower on Saturday, cutting the grass on Sunday. Care for what you owned. Care in what you did.
For the record, my father also rocked a mean pair of Levi’s and a plain pocket T.


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