Charlie Watts is definitely the best-dressed member of the Rolling Stones

Apparently most people already knew this - Charlie made Vanity Fair's best-dressed list last year! - but I only figured it out two days ago while watching Gimme Shelter in its entirety for the first time ever. I was just so impressed with his oh-so-dapper vest and button-down shirt in the editing-room scenes, and I'm pretty sure there's no way he can't be Wes Anderson's favorite Rolling Stone. Not only is he consistently outfitted in exceedingly smart suits, but he's way less prone to wearing silly scarves and capes than the other boys in the band. Once upon a time I much preferred the silly scarves and capes, but at this point in my life looking sharp really seems the better way to go. Maybe it's 'cause I'm 30 now.

So I'm currently in the position of having to rearrange my "top three favorite Rolling Stones members" list, bumping Charlie up to #2. I can't stop myself from being most besotted with Mick (as Tina Turner might sing in Gimme Shelter itself, I've been loving him too long to stop now). But while I've definitely come to adore Keith Richard(s) over recent years, I've never fully gotten over my childhood fear of him (something not all that dissimilar from my childhood fear of the Wicked Witch of the West and Miss Hannigan from Annie). Plus, my best rock sighting ever was when I walked past the Four Seasons in Boston just as Mick and Charlie were being escorted outside to their respective fancy cars. (And yes, the latter was wearing an exceedingly smart suit.)

Since the dearth of Charlie Watts photos available for easy Internet theft is kind of troubling, I'm now presenting you with the first ten minutes of Gimme Shelter. You'll likely notice that Charlie is indeed wearing a scarf in the first few seconds of the movie, but it seems to me that that's only because he's probably very cold. And if "Jumpin' Jack Flash" isn't your favorite song, just skip forward to 4:50-4:54 and witness the hottest cigarette drag ever caught on film.

Craig Robinson

Laura's entry about menswear and George Harrison made me realize how we've neglected our dude contingent a bit, so I thought I'd rectify by letting you all know about a rock 'n roll couturier whose bespoke suits and tailoring I'd buy if only I could afford it. Craig Robinson is a sharp-dressed man who makes suits for a particular sort of darkly glamorous indie rock contingent here in New York: he's outfitted Interpol, Elefant. Melissa Auf der Maur and many, many others. What I love about Robinson's work is how it has this old-world, almost 19th century sort of elegance in the details and even a bit of the Wild West in its styling, but the cuts are sleek, modern, and very, very sexy. Robinson's work is being featured at the gallery at the Soho Grand right now; I missed the opening because I was out of town, but now I'm bummed because I was told it was quite the affair. At least I have the photographs in the exhibition, which were taken by Rudy Archuleta and feature the super-hot likes of Interpol, Secret Machines, Elefant, the Raveonettes, Calla, Jon Spencer and more wearing Robinson's clothes, evoking the great tradition of rock dandyism without being a mere imitation of the past. And everyone, I should mention, looking incredibly fine.

See the man at work here:

Think For Yrself

We're halfway through '07 already, and it's a misanthrope's paradise, to put it mildly. Nowadays, it is commonplace to emphatically pronounce that certain phenomena are "dead" (the term "dead" having taken on a colloquial secondary meaning: over, tired, passe, irrelevant). It's a useful bit of jargon to have on hand; about as explicit, ham-fisted and explicitly ham-fisted as things can get. And it is in the spirit of this unambiguous phrasing that provokes me to assert: womenswear is dead (a la punk rock; a la VHS/the USPS; a la "Turn me on, Dead Man"!)

I am, of course, exaggerating here. One could just as easily argue that womenswear is thriving and progressing. And I do, to a certain extent, agree. I mean, Aloha, Mr Hand!!!

Be Still My Beating Heart.

But I digress. I'm talking about the banal Michael Korsified corpse of women's fashion: yacht-friendly, hyper-American separates; the LBD; "a great pair of trousers"; Carolina Herrera at al. Classicism is one thing; fruitlessness another. There will always be a time and place for clothing that is beautiful (and only beautiful), but shouldn't such territory at this point be strictly assigned to Banana Republicans?

High fashion is an industry oft-criticized for its general meaninglessness (but this is such a blah argument: why does poor fashion always have to be the scapegoat? No one would dare say the same of music or art), and it grates at me how its major players are failing to prove their critics wrong.
So, for the sake of my argument, let us assume that womenswear cannot be revived, that the (not so) wild world of white shirts, denim minis, ballgowns and stilettos is here to stay. The mundane has incredible staying power, which is why it is as such.

Which is why I propose that menswear is the solution to fashion's current lack of revolution. If womenswear is cadaverous, menswear is decidedly embryonic. My point is: wouldn't it be cool if menswear got really, really eccentric? Wouldn't it be hot if men could wear babydoll dresses, short-alls and wacky textiles? Thanks to long-standing gender barriers, menswear is confined to the world of Brooks Brothers and khaki shorts; conversely, it is also rife with untapped potential. My fake boyfriend Thom Browne (digression #2: I read once that Thom Browne eats the exact same breakfast every day: white bread toast with butter and black coffee. How hot is that??) has attempted to address the lack of turbulence in contemporary menswear with his last two collections, fusing traditional proportions with weirdo girly touches:

And I commend him for it, but the immense powers of innovation tend to be nullified by such extreme ugliness. Maybe the steps he's taking are too big. Perhaps men don't want to wear veils, just like how men don't want to wear this.

In my predictable opinion, the only compromise is to take our cues from Saint George Harrison. The Quiet Beatle is not exactly lauded for his fashion-wackjob status, but this is only because of his uncanny ability to make an orange satin suit and tri-cornered hat look like jeans and a white t-shirt. But while John Lennon was seemingly sporting the same scrappy-crappy denim jacket and jeans for the entire calendar year of 1968 and uber-conservative Paul was taking "When I'm Sixty-Four" a little too literally, Harrison managed to cultivate a lexicon of personal style that was impeccable, not to mention impeccably off-kilter. Foppish, dandy-as-all-get-out, yet simultaneously masculine (sorry to resort to out-dated gender stereotyping, but even thesaurus.com couldn't provide me with a more appropriate synonym). George has been my personal style icon for many years (and I have aggressively forced my boyfriend to adopt the same style P.O.V), and I think it's time he gets a little help from his "friends" in the fashion industry. Case in point:

I personally plan on referencing My Sweet George by rocking these kick-ass trousers with a feather-topped fedora and a tucked-in wifebeater. And I'll be sure to tell my boyfriend to do the same.

Oh My God!

Sometimes you hear of things and you go, "Is that for real?" Hence, via OMG Blog : the penis corset. In pink. I kid you not! (I can only imagine the Google hits I'm going to get from this...)

Huh: Aaron Carter in L'Uomo Vogue

I'm having a film instead of a fashion day today (editing takes up a lot of energy), but then this came up the pipeline: pictures of Aaron Carter in L'Uomo Vogue.

My question is: Doesn't uomo mean "man" instead of "boychild"?

(Many thanks to Ashley for shooting this my way!)

For Men: Dubuc

Dubuc is Phillippe Dubuc, a Montreal-based designer who has been putting out menswear that is redolent of Old World elegance since the mid-90s. His lines are quite sexy and just ever so slightly Edwardian, but there is a relaxed lankiness to his suits that is thoroughly modern. If there are any ladies out there who dream of stealing over into one of Hedi Slimane's suits, do check Dubuc out as well...

http://www.dubucstyle.com

For Men: Otoko Online

Otoko.co.uk may have a UK web address, but this premier online menswear store ships worldwide. Their motto is all about "keeping customers at the forefront of fashion" and they feature a wide variety of labels - everything from Buckler jeans to Diesel Style Lab - that should make anyone from your average techno geek to the most insouciant hipster happy. I've noticed that their stock moves in and out pretty quickly, but it's worth regular perusing if only to catch their One True Saxon shoes.

http://www.otoko.co.uk

For the Boys: Cloak

As a girl taking in the fashion whirl, it's so easy to forget that men wear clothes, too. Well, not really, but it's fair to say that menswear gets overlooked in the spectacle that can be women's clothing. Which is too bad, because a close examination of men's clothing can give any eye a lesson in the importance of cut, line and subtle detail. So No Good will be trying to cover a bit more on the menswear front, and the first label spotlight up is Cloak. Started by a Russian tailor with a background in bespoke and patternmaking and Marc Jacobs, Cloak's offerings are very lean, very discreet, with a certain nonchalant, insouciant elegance. Check out Cloak's designs here.

MENSWEAR: JUST DO IT

I keep reading these articles about "feminizing" menswear, which is now an official pet peeve of mine. If officially best-dressed Fran Lebovitz (see the entry below) can go all-out androgyny in her blazers and suits, then you can, too. Carry a pocket watch! Scuff up your shoes! Smoke a cigar!

BOYS LIFE

I don't cover menswear enough here (and am always looking for people to write bits and pieces about men's fashion, hint hint.) In the spirit of remedying this, here's a NYC-area shopping guide to boutiques catering to men. Most of the shops listed seem to cater to that odd segment of men's fashion dominated by techno, graffiti and hip hop aesthetics, but others seem more on the urban, minimalist, "I'm a cool guy who goes to galleries" tip. Of note is Unis: Eunice Lee, the designer behind Unis, has been in the news about her new women's line, which promises to be as subtly sexy and cleanly designed as her men's clothes.

WORKED UP SO METROSEXUAL

Here's the funniest query I've gotten so far: "How do I turn my boyfriend into a metrosexual? I love my boyfriend, but he could use a makeover. All he ever wears are t-shirts, baggy jeans and baseball hats! It's so boring!"

Well, usually I'm all Pollyanna against the idea of changing your significant other: "When you love someone, you love them for who they are, not what they look like," blah blah blah. But that's boring, and especially unproductive for a weblog such as this. First of all, do you really want to "turn" your boyfriend into a metrosexual? Are you sure you want to be arguing with your honey over whether or not he swiped your Estee Lauder retinol-based skin refinisher? Or having a discussion on whether or not you should include the cost of splitting the Creme de la Mer moisturizer along with rent and utilities if you live together? Or getting mad at him on a shopping trip when he wants to fondle bootcut jeans appreciatively when you just want to head to housewares? Think carefully about embarking on this project, young grasshopper, because I don't want to hear from you within a year when you're telling me all about the self-help/recovery book you wrote called Metrosexuals and the Women Who Loved Them.

That said, I assume you've read all the articles on metrosexuality; you're well-acquainted with this seeming phenomenon of straight urbane men who are into fashion, enjoy expensive skin care and love shoes just like those urbane chicks on "Sex and the City." (And those dandies in 19th century Europe and America, although our skincare is better than theirs, no doubt.) I assume you've made sure your boyfriend is fulfilling the "straight" requirement of the definition. (If not, I think you may need to question on the "boyfriend" part of your missive, not the "metrosexual".) And I assume you've taken care of the cajoling, needling, subtle manipulation, bribing and other sensitive yet assertive communication skills you'll need to get your boyfriend to follow this new aesthetic direction. Now all you need is the fashion part of the equation. If you can't wait till the next episode of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," which is essentially the metrosexual finishing school, then hopefully the following bits and pieces will get you on your way. (The "Queer Eye" website does have a section for Hints & Tips. My favorite: "Spa treatments are expensive, but you know what's more expensive? Divorce.")

PANTS

Bottoms are what separate the metrosexuals from the old-school machismo. A metrosexual goes as tight as possible; none of this mid-90s baggy crap anymore! No more baggy anything, in fact, whether in jeans or slacks. Even hip-hop superstars are going for a narrower silhouette, as evidenced by Pharrell of the Neptunes at the CFDA Awards. (And if he balks, just ravage him when he's wearing a tight pair of jeans, swooning "Those jeans! Those jeans!" and he'll probably run out and buy six more, one for every day of the week.) Make sure the leg isn't too long so it cleanly hits the top of the foot, otherwise the whole line is ruined and no one will see the beautiful Prada or Premiata shoes you'll no doubt make him invest in. If that's too much for him, just start off with the typically hip trainer in the shoe department. Baby steps, my friend, baby steps.

SHIRTS AND JACKETS

The no-bagginess statute applies here as well. There's a reason why Hedi Slimane, the esteemed menswear designer, has renewed his deal with Dior: his narrow, sleek jacket with the narrow, high armhole are the gold standard. The tailoring on those Dior suits is precise and lithe, and you'll be able to swipe his jacket every now and then for yourself when he isn't throwing it over a hoodie. Shirts should be as fitted as possible in general; tucking in or out becomes less of an issue when a shirt has a fairly fitted shape. Nothing is more sloppy than a big ol' shirt left untucked.

HAIR

A true metrosexual is devoted to his hair. He has a stylist, not a barber, whom he consults and who probably administers a relaxing head-and-neck massage, which is the real reason why he likes going to get his hair cut so much. He's into expensive haircare, probably something like Frederic Fekkai for Men, as well as minimalist styling products by KMS and M.O.P and other initials. Here is where a metrosexual can be moved to excess, so withhold the gel unless you want him to look like George Hamilton, and get him to shift to something like KMS Configure Cream or a light pomade. Soon he'll start dreaming about straightening treatments and bemoaning bad hair days, and you'll have a monster on your hands as you fight over the last bit of Terax hair conditioner in the shower.

OTHER GROOMING

First of all, don't say "beauty products" because your budding metrosexual will freak out and regress into a monstrous lack of grooming. Shaving is something he'll already have down (I hope), but he'll probably want to acquire more accoutrements for this routine: brushes, after-shave toners, pre-shave treatments. What you may need to ease him into is skincare such as masks and peels, which in my experience is the final frontier of metrosexuality (along with manicures and pedicures.) He probably won't go for the more European or girlier lines if he's a beginner, so scratch out anything by Benefit, Decleor, Chanel, Bloom, Bliss, Fresh, Astara, etc. All the dermatologist-created lines (DDF, Murad, Peter Thomas Roth) are good, and have the appropriate minimalist graphics with nary a pink flower or fancy French script on the packaging. And like every women's magazine says on the topic, be sure he wears sunscreen! Some things should be gender-neutral, and sun protection is one of them.