...and I Don't See No Horns on You, Boy

Interesting article in the current issue of New York magazine about Taavo Somer and his whole empire of Freemans restaurant and adjacent clothing store, the Rusty Knot bar and other enterprises. It seems that antlers and taxidermy are not just a Paxton Gate/west coast thing. I have to admit I've always had a greater weakness for boho/bobo/shabby chic over sleek chic, but all the same, I think I agree with those who dismiss this dude as being a total douche bag. Regardless, the whole look seems like the 826 Valencia/Paxton vibe ramped up a bit in that whole super groovy lower Manhattan sort of way. But it just doesn't seem as fun as it might have been 30 or 40 years ago. Or, to quote the only memorable line from the tediously self-important Short Bus, "It's just like the '60s...without the hope." But, at the same time, the clothing store does seem sort of cool, though I'd prefer to head out and create my own aesthetic instead of paying him for it. And $88 for hand scrawled t-shirts at Barneys? No thanks. Though the descriptions of Somer's aesthetic -- ironic and earnest, neurotic and carefree, cool and cheeseball -- certainly resonate with me, but his personal style evidenced below certainly doesn't inspire any straight-bait lust in my heart. I'll stick with Futball Club Barcelona instead.