Show Us Your Wallet: Michael Bastian

"The only piece of non-MB I wear... "

"...my favorite hotel in Stockholm."

"... picked this up in Japan. Supposed to be good luck."

"This is amazing. This is underneath the Duomo."

"A coin that's a heart. I don't even know where I got that."

"This is my lucky penny that I keep folded up so I don't spend it."

"You know what's really interesting? The contents of guy's wallets. "Asking a guy to pull out his wallet is a very personal thing." Michael Bastian

Lunch with Aaron Levine of Jack Spade

Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop, 174 5th Ave., @ E. 23rd St.

Trad Time Group 0702-2011- 1343 Local

2 x Diet Cream Sodas
1 x Lime Ricky
Split Pea Soup
Turkey Club
Pastrami Reuben
$28.85

Funny. Genuine. Humble. Admired by peers and can arch a mean eyebrow. Interview tape being transcribed by magazine.

Parlez Vuarnet?

Named after Jean Vuarnet

$75 in the '80s versus $25 for Ray Bans

Skilynx - hard to find

Martha on Daddy's boat

I couldn't. Too damned expensive. I went through Ray Ban Aviators like I went through Red, White and Blue beer. In 1985, Ray Bans were $20 to $25 bucks a pair. I was constantly losing or breaking them. Vuarnet 'Cat Eye' Skilynx were $75 to $80 a pair. They were in another league. People who had money and who didn't lose things.

I always thought (and still do) they looked best on girls. Girls who smoked and drank beer and had a back hand. Girls whose Daddys owned a business -- or two or three. These girls owned Orvis Battenkill luggage, bit their nails, never wore makeup and sadly (for me) always seemed to be Republicans.

On The Street: Huntsman

509 Madison Aveue Lobby 3 February 2011 @ 1:33 PM

Unique but understated.

The Turn-back cuff. Disappearing even in London.

A crowded elevator at lunch filled with dark colored coats and thoughts as passengers complain of too many stops and their disappearing lunch hour. I'm standing next to this guy. A bolt of color communicated on a platform of understatement and richness you often see in Manhattan but rarely in Ft Wayne.

He tells me the jacket is Huntsman. "No shit," I think to myself. He agrees to be photographed but is in a hurry. After the photos he pushes his way through the revolving door but not before telling me no one has ever asked for his picture. I don't admit it's a first for everyone.

Ungrateful Corduroy

This... (M Magazine - 1985)

and not this. (Esquire Magazine 1970)

A favorite of poor students and journalists everywhere.

Preferred gentile apparel at a Bar Mitzvah.

Patch pockets and double vents keep it interesting.

Half lining keeps it cool

J Press shirt with murky-logo origins.

Label is little help

Corduroy: This is the anglicized version of the French Corde du Roi, for the material was used on the jackets of the hunting livery of the servants of the Kings of France. It is interesting to note that, like cul-de-sac (which always makes the French laugh as it is very rude), it is never used by the French, who call it, velour cotele, which is exactly what it is, namely ribbed cotton velvet.

The Germans have an even more romatic name for it, namely "Manchester." Manchesterhosen to the German means corduroy slacks. It is in this latter form that it is mostly seen in our lives, and is of course very hardwearing. On a jacket the cloth is almost too "ungrateful" as the French would say, as it is too stiff to fall attractively or mold to the body. It is also extremely hot. Hardy Aimes, 'ABC of Men's Fashion'

Hardy knew goods and he nailed corduroy to the wall. I love the look of it but rarely wear my jacket because it's stiff and very warm. Having said that, it almost never fails to elicit a comment of praise by those mad about clothes. "Patch pocket and side vent on corduroy...most unusual." or, "Isn't it stiff and very warm" to which I reply, "I certainly hope so."

The goods are cheap so it warrants informal details. Unlike the '70s coat up there which is a better looking color and cut but loses footing with a zipper and flapped patch pockets (best left to the camel hair Polo coats).

I have been looking for that shade of green from the 'M' Magazine model for at least 20 years. I'm not sure if it's a color shift in the photo but that green does not seem to exist in corduroy or in nature. Maybe I need to dig around some velour cotele.

Herb & The TJB - 1967

A few days after my father returned from Vietnam in 1967, I remember watching the first Herb Albert TV special with my family. My mother was a huge fan of Herb & the TJB and it was at her insistence we tuned in. I'm pretty sure I was missing Get Smart.

When Herb appeared my father let out a snort and called him a 'fruit cake.' I remember asking what 'fruit cake' meant and my question was answered with, "Never mind." My father guffawed through pretty much the whole show and watching these videos I can see why. He had been in a war and saw ugly things. Watching this must have been a bizarre contrast for him.

But I was never in a war and Herb isn't a fruit cake and I really enjoy this video and the memories. It might even be better than Get Smart.

Screw Candy

Get her this from the Black Watch Shop. A must for your her Valentine's Day.

John Walters: The Cool Breeze

John Walters in Panama

John Walters in barracks

John Walters in pjs

Bob Claggett, me and John Walters

John Walters was a cool breeze that blew into Ft Bragg from Los Angeles. He was tall, quiet and stoned to the bejesus most every time I saw him. We went to Panama together with the 1/325. He was almost the perfect soldier in that he looked like a soldier was supposed to look -- Except that 'stoned' part.

John and I enlisted about the same time but he went in for three and I did four years for a $2,500 bonus paid after Infantry school. At his ETS (Estimated Termination of Service) party we doused his bus driver hat in lighter fluid and lit it. Six of us stood around a circle and peed on the flames giving real meaning to, "If you were on fire I wouldn't pee on you to put you out."

John bought Bob Claggett's '63 Dodge Dart with push button transmission and that was just as well. John had borrowed my '68 Dodge Charger one afternoon and rear ended a parked army pick up on main post.

He was of course stoned and I learned, at 19, never to loan your car to someone who is stoned. A buddy in JAG made the claim disappear. Anyway, the morning after his ETS party, John loaded up the Dart with everything he owned and left Bragg long before any of us woke up.

Two days later the Texas Highway Patrol found the car abandoned on the side of the highway. They were looking for John and tracked him to us. A couple days later he called from L.A. and explained the engine blew. He crammed a few things in his Alice ruck along with his ETS orders and hitched home.

We never heard from him again. Not that that was unusual. But he was the only guy I ever knew in the army who wore pajamas. That was most unusual.

Stay Warm

Haven't been out of the Bean Boots all weekend. Wear cotton socks at your own peril. A Cashmere and wool mix keep the feet warm. The Blue Ribbon Bakery does the same for the soul. Despite the weather, or because of it, it's been a beautiful weekend. Inside and out.

REI & The Eiger

(all images borrowed from internet)

I stumbled across this book, The White Spider, shortly after to moving to Colorado Springs in the '70s. It's been a long time but images from a failed attempt on the north face of the Eiger are still with me.

I finished the book and went straight to a rock formation overlooking Constitution Blvd. Only 40 feet high or so, I didn't waste anytime in falling and luckily landing on a ledge. Flat on my back and with the air knocked out of me, I lifted my head trying to breathe while I stared and swore at my Frye Dingo boots.

One pair of Vasque boots later I headed back. They were chocolate brown with red and black laces and soled in Vibram lugs. I wore them everywhere and in school they separated you from the Goat Ropers in Stetsons with a clipped corner of a hundred dollar bill stuck in the hat band. Or, the Stoners in their herb scented flannel shirts or the John Denver look alike in denim jeans and denim pearl snap shirts. I was a Waffle Stomper.

While my Vasque boots could be categorized as Waffle Stompers I do remember feeling they were more authentic. While certainly no ice climber -- my boots had purpose. Primary being not to fall and have that problem breathing again.

I became a life time member of REI Coop for $5 and obsessed over the catalog where images from White Spider dovetailed with REI equipment creating dreams of my journey to Kleine Scheidegg where I'd eat Toblerone and hit on cute blonde girls from West Germany.

It didn't happen. And that's okay. The north face of the Eiger might be too authentic for me. But some day...before I die...I'm gonna have a drink at this hotel and remember how I was moved by a sport and by the boots it stood on.

Some Pink...

Some Pink

A Pile

And A Pipik