JT: Yes, yes, one has a popped collar and the other has a sweater wrapped around his neck, and both look rather smug...
Mais non! Ils ne sont PAS américains..Les Garçons sont Français! Magnifique!
All is forgiven. Plus, look at the fit! Stylish europeans know all about clothes fitting right. The shoes are very JT-approved, and these 'les hommes de la haute couture' swaggered around with such confidence and ease that they earn the right to be fashionists of SFsyle. (The rule is, anyone within the seven by seven square miles is fair game. leave by bridge or tunnel or cross beyond the borders of the shire and thy validity for SFstyle is forfeit.) Sébastien and Dominique--or whatever their real names are, I forgot to ask--are honorary SF fashionists. These types of guys, whether straight or not, are the reason girls melt when they start talking with that sexy accent. They are putting us apple pie eatin' mofos out of business, and rightfully so, dammit. Très bien, mon amis...très bien.
P.S. Que le fuck, dude. What's with all the french showing up in my life lately? It's like they all knew I didn't study that hard in french class last semester and now they have been popping up all Amélie like, and not speaking much english so I am forced to be embarassed with mon très mauvais français. Stay in school kids, and study.
BUNNY: Hunting in Union Square is frustrating. Everyone thinks you’re one of those damned Children International people that wants to talk to you about your favorite muppet. NOT GOOD.
Unless you have the good fortune of stumbling upon two dudes from France with the hottest footwear in all of Union Square! Voila! I spied these guys based on shoes alone and the rest of them ain’t bad either. I love the way dude’s borrowing from preppy elements with his sweater tied over his shoulders. I love that he’s wearing a dress shirt, not a tee shirt. His jeans are an impeccable fit, he must have had them tailored or just been incredibly lucky because even the length is perfect. He doesn’t have a lot of unnecessary bunch at the ankles taking away from his slim brown chaussures.
The darker haired accomplice may have a popped collar but you know he didn’t come from doing a shitton of jager bombs. He was probably sipping a nice sparkling wine, reading some existential bullshit along the left bank of the Siene. Monsieur #2’s chaussures are also amazing. I think what I was drawn to in regards to footwear was the fact that their shoes, had ties! These are no lazy man’s slip on. I salute you SF’s newest French fashion ambassadors. Merci beaucoup!
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