Some Outfits I Wore in Europe

When I was 17 and moving to Rome, it was all I could talk about. I worked at a gas station the Summer before I left to save up some money and you literally couldn’t shut me up. "Did you know in Italy this is called una bibita?” I’d say when scanning the barcode on a truck driver’s bottle of Mountain Dew. Needless to say, he was not as impressed with me as I was with myself.

But there are two main reasons I never post photos from that time, formative as it was. The first being that I didn’t have an iPhone and therefore didn’t document everything as I do now. And the second is that I looked like absolute shit. I dressed for what I thought I should wear in Italy but without the knowledge of fashion (or, quite frankly, the budget). It was a hodgepodge of Hollister t-shirts and second-hand clothing styled in a such way that you’d be forgiven for thinking I was on a very expensive Rumspringa and it was my first time dressing myself.

I am happy to say that this has, thankfully, changed over the years. I’m sure part of it is being inoculated to the glamour of Europe, having traveled there so much recently, and part of it is out of a deep desire to dress comfortably. I no longer put together little outfits (unless, of course, the agenda calls for it) and instead focus on trying — and I’m sure often failing — to just look my best.

This is all to say that I am too tired to do a day-by-day playback of my time in New York, Finland, and London; but I’m not too tired to post twelve photos of myself making the exact same pose in a variety of mirrors and in a variety of clothes.

And, lucky you, dear Reader, I’ll go through little look below.

Ostensibly, I went to New York to see the NYBG x Moomin exhibit, since I’m my company’s liaison for the brands. While it rained terribly for the majority of my trip, I was able to poke my little head out of my cubby at the Nester Finn in the Financial District long enough to: make a cologne at Olfactory; get sushi rolls from Sushi Counter twice; get my suit taken in at Cad & The Dandy and see my good friend Steve; get a massage in Chinatown; see the Monocle x Thuma pop-up; and get a facial at Glowbar, and a sauna session at SAINT NYC.

Pictured here, I’m wearing my tried-and-true Quince cashmere sweater (two sizes too big and pilling terribly), Nothings Something and DL1961 jeans; a Moomin polo from Rowing Blazers; and surely a Merz b. Schwanen t-shirt underneath to match this cap I’m wearing in the first picture (which I got embroidered with “Daddy” on the back). Not pictures: these Asics and these Converse.

I’m skipping some of the outfits I didn’t feel the need to take photos of (for example, on the plane I wore that ratty old cashmere sweater and some sweatpants made of bamboo), so please don’t be confused why the next photo is of me naked.

Luckily for everyone, I was, in fact, wearing a bathing suit. This speedo from Charlie, to be exact. It was nearly midnight when this photo was taken, my first night back in Finland, where I was staying at the Hanaholmen and had jumped into the Baltic Sea after getting nauseous in the sauna.

Sadly, I only stayed at the Hanaholmen for one night (I will do a newsletter on the hotels I stayed at once my article for Surface on the same topic is live) before moving to the Hotel St. George in central Helsinki. After the car dropped me off, I changed into a jokapoika shirt from Marimekko, put on a pair of Prada pants, and grabbed my Merci tote and was on my merry way to visit the Moomin headquarters to meet the team, get a tour, and get caught in a quick, yet torrential, downpour.

That evening, it was back to the Hanaholmen for dinner and meet the rest of those attending the press trip. I wore this sweater from Soft Goat, these pants from Uniqlo, square-toed Prada boots (second-hand), and my new pair of glasses from Morgenthal Frederics.

Of course, I didn’t take a photo of every outfit while in Helsinki because that would be insane and because not all of them were that special — and a secret third reason: I didn’t feel the need for attention every day, just most days. In any case, when we toured the Marimekko factory (my second time visiting), I wore another jokapoika, as well as this green linen Percival suit, socks from 3am Latte, and Converse again. I hardly ever wear color, but quite liked the look.

During a visit to Amos Rex and a few hours in the Esplanadi in Helsinki, I got to wear this horse-print cardigan from The Tie Bar, which I paired with a western belt, Merz b. Schwanen tank, as well as those brown Uniqlo pants and Converse again.

It was quite cold the night of the fashion show for Aalto University students, so I went with a cozy (and hopefully at least a bit fashionable) outfit of that Quince sweater again, paired with jacket, pants, and boots from Prada. I thought I looked a bit masculine here with my little champagne flute, n’est-ce pas?

I was exhausted by the end of my trip, but had the opportunity to hop on over to London to interview Toby Bateman of Mr. Porter for a story — coming out this week, I think. So while I didn’t get many photos, I did wear a JW Anderson white shirt three days in a row (including to Mr. Porter’s headquarters in Shepherd’s Bush, conveniently close to my accommodations at the nearby Hoxton). The barn jacket is from the Japanese Edition collection from L.L. Bean. The umbrella is one I picked up while in the Bronx the week prior from a dollar store that smelled like microwaved spinach. Both of which I wore while touring Cubitts’ new headquarters in King’s Cross.

The pièce de résistance is this little denim number that I tried on while visiting my friend William’s office at Dorn Communications. It’s from a brand called Blue Blue and fit like a fucking glove, I tell you! I’m also happy to report that this was also a good hair day. I’d like to think my parents, God, and — most importantly — my prescription for finasteride.

And now that that is all said and done, I’m back to wearing my normal rotation of white button-downs (I have, I think at my last count, 25 or so), short shorts, Birkenstocks, and a baseball cap. Boy, it really is kind of a Hannah Montana situation I have going on, isn’t it?

Cheers