What I Love About GQ
After bashing GQ for a while, I want to talk about why I love GQ: for their great style tips. They’re so good it’s worth having to deal with covers of frat girls every other month.
The first editorial section after the ads is Manual, which is a collection of columns filled with practical advice. For someone like me, who never thought in a sophisticated way about fashion, they’re a godsend. One of my favorites recently was a page in the December 2009 issue that made a great case for buying a tuxedo that fits rather than renting a baggy one that makes you look “like an out-of-work cater-waiter.” Considering that just a few rentals equals the purchase price and that the events at which you wear tuxedos are important, it’s worth it.
The column has before and after pictures showing a very impressive difference. It has savvy detailed recommendations: buy a semispread collar instead of winged collar, for the tie consider only solid black, show some cuff, and don’t ruin it with bad shoes. In other words; it’s a classic look; don’t fuck with it.
Here’s GQ appealing to our intelligence. Don’t worry, it won’t last long.
In the January 2010 issue, once you recover from the shock of the cover, the Manual section has thoughtful tips on ties, black men’s hair, and an easy lunch to pack for work. These tips are about sophistication. Our culture values lack of sophistication, so these pages seem almost rebellious. They certainly clash with the content of BQ (Boys Quarterly).
The Style Guy is an advice column. This month there are interesting questions and answers about cowboy boots with suits, black shirts with tuxes, and the finer points of wearing turtlenecks.
But the editors of BQ got a couple of questions in this column from their readers: one BQ reader asking advice about getting his eyebrows trimmed in the shape of lightning bolts and another one asking how to get rid of the sweaty smell in his apartment. Advice columnists usually make a point of choosing to answer questions representative of all the questions they receive, so there must be many men who know even less about fashion and personal appearance than I do. Except they’re not men, they’re boys who have yet to learn that they need to open the windows and have the carpets cleaned periodically in order to keep the place from smelling like sweat.
I wish there were a men’s fashion magazine for just men, not boys. I’d sure like to start one.