Collections: Jewelry

Jewelry does not make a man. One will not freeze to death or get shards of glass in his foot if he steps out of the house un-bejeweled. But I think that when a piece of jewelry has a certain element of intrigue, it does wonders at bringing out one's character. Steve of Style Salvage had asked me to put together a post for the "Collections" series on his blog, and I chose to do jewelry; I thought the typically bling-averse Steve would have a kick (or a heart attack) at my collection dripping with mostly faux gems.

the collection in full

When I brought out all my baubles for the shoot, I shocked myself with the sheer volume of jewelry I had amassed within the past few years. But when I looked at the collection piece by piece, I remembered how each one had an interesting back story to it, and I knew that my treasure chest, though bursting at the seams, was one to keep for at least a little while more.

pins

(clockwise from far left) vintage silver turtle from the 80s, beer bottle pin from the Heineken Brewery in Amsterdam, vintage athletic medals, vintage chewing gum badges from the Brooklyn flea, Husam El-Odeh for Topman climbing man pin, vintage green alabaster cabochon pin, heart print pin under resin cabochon from Old Hollywood (http://oldhollywoodmoxie.com/), vintage sterling silver astronaut pin with moonstone head, vintage hairdresser pin from Amsterdam

bracelets

(clockwise from far left) leather bracelets from Hermes, Margiela "batman" cuff, vintage wide silver cuff from Amsterdam, narrow metal cuffs from Number (N)ine, Husam El-Odel for Topman, and Philip Crangi

necklaces

Japanese kimono belts knotted into a necklace, belly-dancing belt from India, Ann Demeulemeester lambskin "thorns" necklace, necklace with feather from chicken I had for dinner, Margiela necklace with dice inside

and more necklaces

red leather and silk tassel necklace by Filipino designer Proud Race, bead necklaces in white turquoise, opalite, and gray pearl from the gem market in Manila, DIY matchbox car necklace, zipper necklaces by Marc Jacobs

rings

cross ring from my friend Kathleen, oxidized silver and recycled green stone ring by Norbu Bijoux in Brooklyn, red coral ring from Barcelona, vintage turquoise ring, and way too many others...

watches

black rubber watch by Casio, calculator watches in silver and gold by Casio, Cartier Roadster watch, Rolex watch

And now for a closer look at a few of the pieces, and a tiny bit of storytelling. Allow me to tell you about...

...the ones from the earth and beyond

(vintage sterling silver astronaut pin with moonstone head and silver turtle from the 80s on vintage Pierre Cardin overcoat with a Barbour furry liner layered over.)

I think pins are a great way to get a man comfortable with jewelry: just stick them on a coat and you can forget they're there. The vintage spaceman pin was a lucky eBay find; what boy never dreamed of being an astronaut at one point? I like to wear it with the turtle to keep things down to earth.

...the ones that climb and that dangle

(Husam El-Odeh for Topman brooch, vintage salon brooch from Amsterdam on Muji tartan wool scarf with April 77 denim jacket)

The climbing soldier pin might have to be my favorite out of my entire jewelry collection, and people seem to always be fascinated by this little silver man climbing up my lapel or hanging from the edge of a jacket pocket. The salon brooch is a vintage, with the middle dangler, a hair dryer, actually detached from the piece. It reminds me of my obsession with hair.

...the one least blingy

(Martin Margiela nail ring, tailor-made shirt and trousers)

By far the subtlest out of my entire collection, I think it's one of the cleverest too. A lot of the jewelry men wear (chunky silver chains, plain band rings) can tend to be superfluous; they'd look better without them. But I think that when jewelry is intriguing enough to warrant a second look, it does wonders for one's persona.

...the one from my hometown and the one from my father

(gray pearl necklace from Manila, Cartier watch. DIY jacket, Gap shirt, tailor-made trousers)

Philippine pearls are prized the world over, but are most affordably priced in their city of origin. I decided to take a risk and don a strand of gray pearls; I thought the jacket was boldly eccentric enough to dispel any notions of "little boy trying on his mother's pearls". The watch was a gift from my father after getting good grades in college. The navy alligator strap is a special order, and is quite versatile despite it being strikingly luxe.

...the one that I made, well, sort of

(silk kimono belts used as a necklace, worn with Ivan Grundahl jacket and H&M shirt)

I purchased a vintage haori (which is the kimono equivalent of a tuxedo) at Kiteya in New York, and got three traditional silk belts to tie the haori closed. I ended up always wearing the kimono open anyway, and found myself wearing the belts as a necklace knotted loosely.

...the ones that are oriental

(pave eagle head ring, vintage "traffic light" ring from the Brooklyn flea)

I have an obsession with Orientalia; I think people wear too much Western clothing that they forget about the other half of the world. These rings, with the eagle, dragon, bright red and deep green stones, help evoke that feeling.

...the ones that are my favorites, old and new

(badge by Barbour, vintage green alabaster cabochon pin, heart print pin under resin cabochon from Old Hollywood)

The old favorite would have to be the one with the vintage heart print under a cabochon of clear resin; it's a crowd pleaser and it goes perfectly with that vintage-eccentric aesthetic I'm quite fond of. The new favorite is the oval cabochon of green alabaster: it's ever so faintly green, and isn't even polished, just roughly cut giving it that matte finish. I think it's enchantingly spare, and quite enigmatic.

Read the original post on my jewelry collection on Style Salvage. Steve did a similar post on his collection of shoes.

Special thanks to: Mayors pre owned watches

How to Age a Barbour

You might recall the gripe I had with my Barbour International jacket: the stiff, heavy fabric, the shiny gold buttons. It was just too new. After a few attempts at accelerating the aging process, some exaggerated and some crafty, I finally got it to a stage where I'm satisfied.

My very own battered Barbour. It still isn't quite as worn as Crangi's, but I think it's patina-d enough to be proudly worn out.

This is what it looked like, new:

my Barbour International, fresh from London

And this is how I aged it:

My first point of attack were the almost orange-gold buttons. I took heed of the advice from an anonymous commenter who suggested a paste of flour and vinegar to tarnish the buttons.

I spread it on thick on all the brass on the jacket, left it on overnight, and peeled the hardened paste off the next day. It did a great job at mellowing the bright brassy hue of the buttons. I also spread some on the badge to dirty up the bright yellow.

I then wore the jacket out as often as I can, and on the days with the most horrid weather. And when nobody was looking, I'd rub my arms or back against a rough gravel post or two. One day after it rained, I found the boldness to take my jacket off in the yard in front of my apartment, drag it along the grass and gravel, and trample on it shamelessly.

After a while, I knew it was time to highlight the patina by re-waxing it:

Barbour Wax Thornproof Dressing, available at Barbour boutiques or at Blackbird

I placed it in my poison pot with about three inches of water and heated it just short of boiling; I didn't want the bubbles to tip the can over and spill all the precious wax.

I then worked the melted wax in with an old tea towel, making sure to rub it in well on the seams. (Note for the future: I might have been better off using a sponge; my white tea towel pilled all over the jacket and the lint took quite a while to clean off.)

the jacket starting to show that sought-after shine

I had to re-heat the wax twice, as it had hardened on me. When I was done with the entire jacket, working in the wax thoroughly to achieve that patina, I used a hair dryer to go over the spots where the wax was laid on too thick or where it had hardened before I had the chance to rub it in. Re-waxing my Barbour took an entire messy afternoon of nearly finger-bleeding towel-scrubbing, but I'm very pleased with the result.

the distressed, shiny look at last!

As a finishing touch, I went over the buttons with a scrub sponge to scratch and matte them up a little bit.

my aged Barbour International jacket

Re-waxing a Barbour is much like waxing a car: it requires attention to detail, lots of elbow work, and usually more wax than you thought you needed. The car emerges looking fresh, almost like it did the day you took it out of the dealership. But the jacket ends up looking like it survived the ten worst London winters... and that's just how I like it.

Crangi Class

Gushing over a style icon is never beneath me; I don't ever claim to be a hundred percent original in my tastes and likes. I think observing what other people wear is one of the easiest ways to develop personal style: you have a look at what's out there, you see what can be done, you learn what you like and what you don't like, and you take what makes your tastebuds tingle and make it your own.

CFDA-awarded jewelry designer Philip Crangi is one of those people whose sense of style I admire. Interview magazine described him to be reminiscent of "Jack Sparrow marooned on the shores of Williamsburg", with his tattoos and signature jewelry. He keeps a sense of humor in the way he dresses, tempered by a touch of darkness and a penchant for the classics. The result is amusing, yet refined, and very original. These are a few of my favorite Philip Crangi looks:

in an always elegant un-ironed white oxford button-down, perfectly orchestrated curls, and what looks like Giles and Brother screwhead stud earrings

now with a jacket over the shirt, cuffs undone, revealing an aggressively gold Rolex. I'm counting the days until my father hands me down his.

showing off his signature ink and hardware, and note the handsomely beat-up Hermes double-tour Cape Cod watch (via GQ)

in a spread for Man About Town, the photo on the right showing a very interesting ornate necklace worn over a shirt and tie (via Refinery 29)

a long keychain draped over the neck? (via Getty images)

in the perfectly worn-out Barbour International jacket and a scarf tied quite interestingly. Can anybody figure out how he knotted this? (via The Sartorialist)

another view of the same outfit, this time by Tommy Ton (via Jak and Jil)

immaculate, yet fully bearded, in a navy suit, patterned bowtie, and tortoiseshell Wayfarers (via Jak and Jil)

Right now I'm sitting amidst a pile of clothes I tried on, barely halfway done packing for New York Fashion Week. Whenever I find myself in a styling roadblock, I think to myself, "what would Crangi do?" How about you, dear readers, who are your style superstars of the moment?

A Second Chance for Barbour

Nothing relieves a bad case of cognitive dissonance better than seeing someone whose style you admire sporting the same article of clothing you were feeling iffy about.

Philip Crangi in a Barbour International jacket (photo by Tommy Ton for GQ). Once in a while, there surfaces a street style photograph that speaks to you so intimately that it breaks through all the clutter out in the blogosphere, one so rich with inspiration you know you'd be looking back at it for months.

The hair, on the head and on the face, the dark round glasses with gold arms, the luxuriously yet casually knotted raw-edged two-toned wool scarf (any ideas on where I could find something similar?), and the perfectly distressed waxed cotton jacket all form the costume of what I'd imagine an aristocrat who's fallen out of favor with the nobility and now spends his days creating art in New York City's gritty Lower East Side, yes! That's what he'd wear.

I haven't been getting as much wear as I wished from the same Barbour jacket I picked up in London a few months ago:

I purchased it new, and well, that seems to be my major bone to pick with it. The buttons are a conspicuous bright gold, and the fabric almost too sticky and too heavy with wax.

To get the aging process started, I plan on wearing it in the rain tomorrow. While I'm at it, I might as well roll in the gravel and drag my back along the entire perimeter of my apartment building's coarse brick wall. Dear friends, Englishmen and Anglophiles alike, have you any suggestions on how best to weather my Barbour?