Rohmer’s Romance

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Eric Rohmer has a stranglehold on me. The French creative multi-hyphenate and filmmaker has, as they say, je ne sais quoi. Criterion recently added his Tales of the Four Seasons and I’ve been dissecting these films like a neurosurgeon. I decided I can no longer let the images in front of me sit still. I have to—by some grace of the literary Gods—muster up the ability to explain Rohmer’s vortex.

Tales of the Four Seasons is a unique series in that it leaves the watcher with a sense of what a Rohmer movie is. It’s dialogue-heavy, not necessarily intellectual, though that element exists in his vortex as well. The writing is on a tandem bike with the wardrobe, acting, and scenery. All of these elements seem to float together like a cloud catching your attention on a summer day. I’d argue that Rohmer films resemble that cloud catching your eye, as you try to make sense of what it looks like.

In this series, his female leads seem to be undertaking a journey into the unpredictable. They are imperfect, at times even destructive. But I believe this is merely a veil distorting the watcher's digestion of the film. In the end, there is a resolution, of course, which brings back our faith in his seemingly conflicted actresses.

The opposite sex is depicted as equally ambivalent. Take the character of Gaspard in A Summer’s Tale who is on holiday in Dinard. He meets his girlfriend who is having doubts about their relationship, then he meets a local who is in love with him, then she introduces him to a girl he briefly falls in love with. In short, aimlessness is happening on both sides. No character in a Rohmer movie quite outweighs the other.

If there’s one thing Rohmer’s characters are sure of, it’s their sense of style. There is a discerning look throughout Tales of the Four Seasons. Both men and women are wearing jeans, really, really good jeans. Often in a light wash or white, they are high wasted and serve as the entree of each look. Characters will tuck their shirts into them, accentuating their fit and design. Button-up shirts are common, knitwear, blazers, watches, and subtle pops of color that will often match the exterior. This sense of style across his films is perhaps the biggest reason I keep coming back. It’s affected me so much that I’ve found myself resorting back to Criterion to see what I should be wearing.

When it comes to locations and interior spaces, Rohmer is truly a God. Whether it’s a French countryside, beach town, or Paris, each location can no longer be found on a map, as its transcended reality and become a part of his vortex. He has an uncanny way of making a place a painting. Each frame is purposeful, and he knows that the scenery will amplify the character's style, speech, and story. A Rohmer movie will transport you from wherever it is you watch from, and it will place you on the beach in A Summer’s Tale or the countryside in A Tale of Springtime. It’s no surprise that these characters with such prolific outfits have well-designed homes, filled with books and art and understated furnishings.

With all of these elements of a Rohmer movie in mind, there is perhaps only one word that exemplifies the entire thing: Romance. It is love in the simplest sense, a dreamworld that you want to keep coming back to.

Spring in Chicago, or How I Forgot to Dress

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Wednesday I woke up to snow. By the time I finished my shower, the sun was beaming through the bathroom window. I checked the AccuWeather app, a daily point of contention but a necessary task when living in Chicago. It told me 40 degrees and light snow, and my first thought was how many shorts or sandals I’d see out on the street, another necessary task for some Chicagoans, certainly not the faint of heart.

However, as someone who prides themself on looking presentable, I shuffled through my closet in an attempt to get dressed. With the unpredictable and often unforgiving weather this city bestows upon us in Spring, I quickly realized I’d have to adopt the mind of a chess or pool player. I’d have to have my outfit figured out a few steps ahead. I’d have to somehow predict, and hope, that the sun would come out and that I could get away with a T-shirt, blazer, and jeans. I recently acquired a camel blazer in a hazel tone that I couldn’t let sit in my closet another day, so I put my faith in it. With a newly dampened street, I couldn’t afford to wear loafers so I went with Sambas. Thus, my day began.

Wind. Wind all over the place, ripping open my blazer and hugging me like a mother would her child while dropping them off at school. You never really like it. It only takes a matter of seconds after leaving the house to know you fucked up, in regards to wardrobe, that is. It was at this moment I realized that spring in Chicago is that awkward hair length that you need to push through in order to achieve the locks you desire. In my case, spring in Chicago is teaching me that I won’t be pulling off good outfits, at least until I can be certain that the sun will stay out, that the wind will die down, and that my blazer won’t be nonconsensually opened by the elements.

Basics

I can’t begin to express my infatuation with basic clothes. Think Jeff Goldblum on Letterman in the ’80’s, or any Eric Rohmer film. Simplicity has taken over my wardrobe. Brands have become extinct, at least to the naked eye. Gray T-shirts, white T’s, black T’s, vintage Levi’s. I’m walking with a different step knowing that the clothes on my back are in Lehman’s terms, offering onlookers nothing but sheer rawness.

I don’t know when this change came about, or why. It must’ve been around the same time I began wearing blazers. Something about a blank T-shirt paired with a hefty blazer made sense in my mind. I don’t jot this up to a lack of imagination, as a matter of fact, imagination is one of my few virtues.

In this modern society we call 2022, everything in our lives moves at a rapid pace. Something about simplifying my wardrobe has provided me with the mindfulness I need to maneuver the madness. I no longer have to decide whether or not a graphic T-shirt will be understood by a room full of strangers. That once mattered to me.

Dressing shouldn’t be a point of stress. To dress should be to go to the bathroom, an urge that you don’t question, but act on. When thinking of approaching the act of getting dressed in this way, I think you’ll find your look. Pretend your house is on fire and you have all but five minutes to get out. My imagination is still intact, remember? Personally, I'll be in a blank T with Levi's, and a blazer in arm as I run down the stairs.

February Fit Review

The February fits were more or less the same as last month, with a few subtle differences. This month was filled with Indie shows, birthday celebrations, and apartment hunting. Climate change has undoubtedly affected middle America and brought the 9” short warriors out into the public eye. Naturally, I combatted the villain with a crisp pair of Nike half tights on my long run.

I mentioned in my last fit dispatch that boots and leather were top-of-mind this month. In reality, that never happened. I bought a brown leather jacket that’s one size too big, though it got a healthy amount of use. Boots aren’t for me. They’ll never be for me. That same old dusty pair of loafers caresses my feet.

A friend of mine bought me an affirmations hoodie that I wore to the Alice Phoebe Lou show. That same night, the big homie, Michael, pulled up in the yellow Arc’teryx. Rain was in the forecast, or so we hoped. I no sooner smelled the dew of approaching rain and all of a sudden I was in Arc’teryx, too.

I resurrected my collection of Acne Studios knits for a DJ party. The knit of choice resembles a Van Gogh painting, and I contrasted that energy with a black and white tweed jacket. To ground myself, I wore Sambas, which I thought would be a good idea until I pulled up to the function and found that it was stripes over checks. I’m not the least bit unique.

Finally, I decided that graphics aren’t dead, and bought myself a screen printed Lily-Rose Depp T-shirt. As to why that is, I don’t know. I’m looking forward to wearing it in the summer months, potentially with a pair of jean shorts.

We’ll see what March has in store. I’m predicting more hats, tanner skin, and new loafers. Probably not Celine, but definitely Weejuns.

The Practicality of the Impractical Dresser

By the time the clock strikes midnight, over a foot of snow will populate the Chicagoland area. February is here and so are the L.L. Bean printed footsteps on the sidewalks. The snowplows and shovels create a melody to be heard all across the city. The L train becomes another instrument to this symphonic gloom that is February in Chicago.

If you live in Chicago you’re no stranger to acclimating to the winter. You probably own several base layers, boots of all shapes and sizes, puffer jackets, hats, gloves, scarfs, pepper spray, horse tranquilizers, I digress. What I mean is, you come prepared, in a sort of conventional, trend refuting kind of way. Nobody cares to be in Vogue here, because if we were to give even one ounce of a shit, we’d end up in Rush hospital getting our fingers amputated from the frost.

While the Scandinavians can tie together an immaculate outfit in little to no daylight and freezing temperatures, Chicagoans have other ideas, and they don’t think about Scandinavians either, or anybody north, east, south or west of city limits.

I’m a Chicago guy. Really, I’m a chic-AH-go guy. I let it be known wherever I go. I recall one time I was in New York City in December, and I was with some people from California who put a large emphasis on how freezing it was. It wasn’t freezing, it was 35 degrees! I said something along the lines of, “I’ve got ice in my veins, I’m a Chicago guy!” Us and our pride…

I wanted to let you know that because while I live and have an affinity for this city, I don’t care for the practicality of winter dressing. I wear sneakers in winter, sometimes loafers even. The amount of socks I’ve had to throw in the trash is insurmountable. I borrow gloves from my roommate. I own one knit hat, which I found in a restaurant (and washed of course). I have an Arc’teryx puffer jacket, not for the weather, but because it’s Arc’teryx.

I don’t dress for function, I dress for me and all my dysfunction. There is practicality in that. It wouldn’t be practical for me to go against my own set of style standards. I very well may end up in Rush hospital with frostbite, but I’d much rather get amputated in 90’s Armani than Canada Goose.

January Fit Review

At the end of each month, I’m going to revisit my fits of choice and attempt to dissect them. Beyond the obvious wardrobe changes that happen with the seasons, I believe there’s an idiosyncratic change to my looks from month to month, whether that be the choice of pattern, color or cut.

I’ve made it to the year 2022 seemingly unscathed. My personal style has changed quite a bit in this decade, though for the first time, I feel that I’ve reached the last frontier. The clothes I choose to wear each day feel like me. I feel that my uniform has reached home base, after rounding the bases of trial and error. What does this look like? Something out of a Ralph Lauren catalog.

The truth is, this uniform of mine has been boiling up for years. In high school, I was going for the frat star look. Even then I was affected by John Hughes's idealistic vision of Chicago’s North Shore. I’d wear Sperry’s, button-ups, Polo or Brooks Brothers.

Suffice to say, I’ve reached my uniform, but that doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to experiment in newness. This month featured a revival of Levi’s that's been sitting in my closet for months. They’re that striking shade of black, that leaves no room for imagination. It was one of those purchases I immediately regretted. But being the persistent experimentalist that I know I can be, I soaked them in bleach, which turned them into this beautiful gray shade.

Another point of newness is my obsession with blazers. I bought two tweed blazers this month, both including a bulky shoulder and need to succeed. I love the tweed look, but it saddens me to think that these two will be retired come summer.

January brought me a big coat, which in turn brought big dreams, such as the longing for a new pair of loafers.

I wear a single pair of loafers almost every day. The problem is, they’re dusty, beat up, scuffed and broken-hearted. I look forward to Spring when the snow and slush will be melting away, and a potential pair of Celine loafers stomp the sidewalk in anticipation of the day.

You might be wondering what I have on my horizons next month besides Celine. For starters, I’ve weirdly been inspired by the Kanye and Julia Fox love affair, not because of love, but because of the looks. I see leather in my future, more denim and dare I say, boots?

Big Coat

Today I braced myself for the piercing winter air by throwing on an Ermenegildo Zegna coat. I woke up and felt the air before getting out of bed. My apartment is over 100 years old. From the kitchen to the backdoor, the floor has developed a slant over the years, leaving a whistling draft.

I’m not a practical dresser and have no plans of becoming one. I own an Arc’teryx jacket and North Face puffer, but somehow, this Zegna coat gets the most use. It’s long, almost hitting my ankles. The shoulders are defined and the sleeves fit just right. Best of all, it’s conducive to layering, as the coat is nowhere near my actual size.

Ermenegildo Zegna was an entrepreneur from Italy who got his start in a wool mill. In the 1960’s, his sons Aldo and Angelo took over the business and began producing ready-to-wear, opening their first brand stores in Paris and Milan. I get curious of history, especially when the label says made in Italy.

This morning I feel like Big from Sex and the City meets Soho skater. I wear a white shirt, covered by a chunky Irish knit my grandmother made, complimented by Walmart jeans and Sambas on the feet. I believe they call that mixing high and low.

I can’t leave my apartment without getting at least one compliment on this coat. On the best of days, I’ll even get a sardonic look from middle aged men. I like to imagine them talking about it when they get home. Honey, why are kids wearing our grandparents’ clothes?

The Blazer

I’ve been wearing blazers my entire life, which in the grand scheme of things is funny because I’ve never worked an office job, I attend almost no weddings, and my current job is done from the comfort of my desk (which is actually a nightstand…if you or anyone you know is selling a desk let me know).

For the last few months, I’ve gone all-in on blazers. I’ve cleansed my dad’s closet with labels bearing Armani, Hugo Boss, Peter Millar, anything that was ill-fitting and contained a well-structured shoulder. I almost always pair it with denim.

Blazers aren’t a new look, I’m willing to bet it’s one of the oldest standing items of clothing that’s stayed relevant in all contexts. Maybe that’s where my fascination with the blazer begins and ends, with the simple fact that this garment applies to every genre of person.

This last summer I had a coworker tell me I reminded her of an 80’s sitcom dad. This was one of the better compliments I’ve ever received. Fashion TikTok has all sorts of intellectualist fashion twenty-somethings saying they're wearing an all-black outfit in such and so way and that it’s unconventional. I understand it because I’m wearing a blazer and jeans in a Jerry Seinfeld, Ralph Lauren, Fran Lebowitz type of way and not in an “I wear my dad’s clothes” kind of way.

The blazer has always transported me to the better version of myself. When I was a kid, it made me feel older. At 23-years-old, it makes me feel like I’m a man, who has many responsibilities which wouldn’t be handled without the blazer. It was my “gateway” garment, which opened me up to an entire world of clothing.

The crux of good style isn’t about a price tag or hype, it’s much more simplified. Does it make you feel good? Does it make you want to seize the day? Does it grant you a moment of excitement? That’s what it’s about. If a sweatsuit does it for you, run that thing into the ground. I’ll continue with blazers.

Woman In Black

There is a woman on my street who I’ve noticed twice now. She walks past the corner store across from my apartment, twice in an all-black outfit, each unique in their own way.

I don’t know this woman; I only see her and somehow understand the type of person she is. I know this much—she is unlike the other women I see.

What’s most compelling to me is that she smokes cigarettes, which, in this neighborhood is a rarity. Her smoking and her strutting effortlessly carve the icy winter street.

I’ve not seen her face. Only the outline of her body which is covered in a black leather jacket or puffer. I wonder if she is aware of her relation to the environment, and how opposite she is to the ordinary.

The Perfect Pair

I’ve yet to find the perfect pair of jeans. This insignificant yet profound piece of information tortures me. It keeps me up nights. It occupies every mirror and reflective surface in view. It impacts my bank account severely. It makes bystanders question my sanity.

I’m not a perfectionist. I don’t believe it’s a noble pursuit. Owning the perfect pair of jeans is as close as I’ll strive for perfectionism. The perfect pair does, in fact, exist. I have a penchant for movies, specifically dating as far back as the 1940’s. I’m hyper aware of wardrobe on screen. I’ve seen the perfect pair.

Take for example Cary Grant in Houseboat. He wears an ever so flattering jean with an almost indigo hue. If that’s not convincing enough take any Eric Rohmer film, where you’ll see an oversaturation of perfect jeans.

I see them an admire the cut, the rise and the wash. The perfect jean is worn. It’s calloused and shows receipts of past experiences. The perfect pair requires no belt, as it will cling to you like a caring mother nursing a newborn.

Perhaps the perfect pair exists in my closet. My problem could have an easy fix. Maybe it simply comes down to wearing one pair at a time, until the stitching falls apart. I’ve had a short career in the denim world. I’m no connoisseur and I have no interest in hearing about Japanese denim. Who has the time?

The closest pair of jeans I have to perfect reign from a little place called Walmart. The brand is Rustler, not Wrangler, Rustler. The feeder team to Wrangler. I’ve worn this jean as though it were an extension of my skin. The denim communicates that. I’ll continue my hunt to the very last seam. Something about this seems self-sabotaging. In the name of denim, it’s a worthwhile pursuit.

The Loafer

Are you buying a chrome hearts hat and calling it getting dressed? This is my iteration of a Mary Oliver poem, “Are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” One must ask these sorts of questions. This week I’m thinking about loafers.

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Miles Davis in an obscure loafer.

This is not a new invention, nor does wearing a loafer make you unique in any sort of way. It does however provide us style heads with an idea. It provides us with a portal into who you are, what you appreciate. Maybe it was Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief that made you reconsider this sort of footwear. Was it Grace Kelly in Rear Window, sitting ever so elegantly in bed with a pair of burgundy loafers on, reading Michael O. Douglas’ Beyond the High Himalayas, before effortlessly transitioning into a Harper’s Bazaar?

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Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief

However you end up in loafers, understand that this is a simple act of coolness. I’m not talking about the high schooler who would leave study hall to smoke American Spirits in the band room cool, I’m talking dropdead cool. However you envision cool, that’s where you stand in loafers.

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Chris Black a.k.a donetodeathprojects. Honorable mention.

For those of you loaferless, take a chance. Dig through your grandparents closet, look in an alley, go to a thrift store. The means in which you decide to cop the shoe is irrelevant. I might also add, the more beat up the better, after all, this is a shoe that tells a story.

Stay-at-Home Fits: How Some Are Getting Dressed Amid COVID-19 Pandemic

For over two months now, the COVID-19 pandemic has flipped our lives upside down in the U.S. With many students and professionals alike now bound to working from home, deciding what to wear amid pandemic is a topic worth discussing. With lifestyle changes come wardrobe changes.

The Work From Home Fits Instagram page provides a lens into how some are adjusting their style amid COVID-19. The common thread? Sweatpants, hoodies and more sweatpants. The general consensus among quarantine style appears to be loungewear. And fashion publications are jumping on the trend, detailing how to style work from home looks.

Man Repeller shared five ways to wear sweatpants. GQ argued that we’re living in the age of sweatpants and never going back. And Vogue explored ways to accessorize for virtual meetings.

This newfound acceptance of loungewear, as opposed to dressing up, raises questions about the future of the dress code. Have we as a society given up on denim? Have we surpassed the point of collared shirts? Are loafers a thing of the past? Does the way we dress in quarantine affect our mental health and overall wellbeing?

Wearing a white UNIQLO crew tee and Levi’s 501s, I’ve decided to find out the state of style as we know it. At the bottom of my bed lies a navy Irish knit sweater my grandmother made, which will quite possibly end up being put to use throughout this interview process.

Let us begin.

Meet Oscar Diaz

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Oscar Diaz is a DePaul University alum who steers towards business casual. While finishing his senior year, he worked at a private equity firm, which enforced a strict dress code. Full suits, and be wary of taking that blazer off. He now works as an internal consultant for Robert Half International, a global human resource consulting firm, which allows Diaz to dress down and be comfortable.

He handles his work exclusively through Zoom, since the office is closed due to the pandemic. Diaz said that the work environment at Robert Half does not call for much of a dress code.

“That’s the culture they’re trying to bring, they don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Even if we were in the office, they wouldn’t want us to dress like corporate America, which is really weird because it’s such a big company,” Diaz said. “As long as you’re not naked, I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

However, Diaz also said that he thinks the way we dress most certainly has an effect on how we both feel and perform, even throughout mundane daily tasks.

“The way you dress changes your mindset, it changes how you talk to people. When you have the proper style, you feel more confident and more ready,” Diaz said.

He loves button downs, dress pants and nice pairs of shoes. Now that he’s working from home, he ensures that from the waist up he looks professional. If he has a big day, he’s putting on either a quarter zip sweater or a button-down shirt.

“No matter what this world is going through, you’ll always see me in a nice pair of pants and a slim fit button-down shirt,” Diaz said.

Stay-at-home fits supply Diaz with a sense of accomplishment, engagement and routine. He is on the opposite end of the sweatsuit trend spectrum, and it’s going to stay that way moving forward. Although Diaz maintains a business casual look most of the time, he’s never been afraid to take risks while dressing.

“If the world was to open up again tomorrow, I’m wearing a cowboy hat. I want to bring cowboy hats into the city, I want it to be a norm,” Diaz said, “So, what I’m going to do when everything pops up, I’m going to wear these nice, silky, kind of golf-style pants. I could wear these when I want to golf, or I could wear them in the office. Then I’m wearing this blue silky Calvin Klein shirt. If you know me, I’m going to leave one or two buttons hanging out, and I’m going to tuck it in too.”

To top it all off, he’s looking at a new pair of loafers for the summer, which he may very well be wearing inside.

Meet Sophia Jorgensen

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DePaul senior Sophia Jorgensen is practicing social distancing in Chicago’s Ukrainian Village. She moved there with her older sister, Bella, right before shelter-in-place began. Until then, she’d been working at Elske as a host, which is a restaurant in the West Loop. Jorgensen has a unique personal style, one that strikes a medium between feminine and masculine. She can go from an oversized tee to a smock dress, or from sneakers to boots. One look that stuck out to me during our interview process was the combination of a cream sweater and blue striped collared shirt, paired with loose fitted black work pants and black Vans. It reminded me of a skateboarder’s style.

“I bought these tie-dye sweatpants that are unbelievably comfortable from Target, I think I wore those every day for like a week,” Jorgensen said. “Then slowly when we started classes, the first week I was seeing people on Zoom, and I was like, ‘I got to get up, get dressed, and not put pajamas on.’”

To counteract her loungewear, she’s been wearing overalls. She finds them to be comfortable enough to wear every day.

“I have like four or five pairs. I bought two more pairs, it’s just been my go-to. I haven’t worn jeans in like two months now, unless you count my overalls, only one of the pairs is denim,” Jorgensen said.

Before quarantine, Jorgensen wore her hair short. It struck her shoulders when let down. In two months time, her hair has grown out, so she puts it into space buns in the back. A bandana is her choice of headwear. To bring the fit together, she’ll pair whatever T-shirt she likes with the overalls.

I had to wonder, just what is it about this look that keeps Jorgensen coming back?

“It makes me feel good because I’m still comfortable, it’s not as spruced up as something I’d wear if I was going out or going to class. I think the most dressed up I’ve been was when I went on a sort of date distance walk the other day,” Jorgensen said. “I put on actual pants, they were these painter pants, and I put on a sweater with a collared shirt underneath. I put thought into it.”

Comfort has been key, but it’s deeper than that. As soon as Jorgensen made the move to Ukrainian Village, she decided to reinvent her wardrobe. She’s been curating a Pinterest board to shift her style in a new direction.

“I’m not going to wear two tone camo pants anymore, that’s just freshman and sophomore year vibes,” Jorgensen said. “I’m moving into the style I’ve always wanted to be and it’s more professional for the age I am.”

When it comes to shoes, she’s been wearing a pair of fuzzy slippers inside. When she’s outside, she’ll either wear a pair of white Nike Ultraforce Mids,black authentic Vans, or Crocs, which she’s been wearing more than ever.

Jorgensen feels that just getting dressed, even if it means changing sweatpants, has a positive effect on her mental health. “I feel like it’s putting you into a normal state of mind and a normal schedule. I go on a walk every day, even if I don’t change in the morning right away, I change when I go outside to walk,” Jorgensen said. By changing and going for a walk, she feels ready to go about the rest of her day. If she doesn’t carry out this routine she finds herself procrastinating just lying around.

“Having to get yourself up and physically look in your closet does help your mental health. Even trying stuff on, yesterday after I cooked dinner for all of us I went to change,” Jorgensen said. “I was wearing my chef overalls and felt dirty, so I tried on three different pairs of pants before I decided which ones were most comfortable.”

With graduation approaching, she’s already begun brainstorming the cap and gown, though DePaul canceled its in-person ceremonies.

“There’s lots of big fits to come,” Jorgensen said.

Perhaps denim isn’t a thing of the past and neither is a collared shirt. The COVID-19 pandemic has undoubtedly put loungewear in the limelight, but it seems no matter the fit, we have a sense of what we wear and why we wear it — even if it’s just for comfort.

Originally published in 14 East Magazine