I wore the white bucks today, in something of an Indian Summer in New England. 70 degrees, and sweaty humid, with jeans to keep it casual. Just as I was about to leave my job at the local wine shop, she sees fit to open the skies. Fifteen minutes in the rain and mud did these shoes, in my humble opinion, a world of good. I love them this way...the more destroyed, the better. In the Summer with seersucker, white bucks are too dorky, even for me. But beat-to-sh*t and out of season with tweed in the Fall...unmistakeably bad-ass. Of course, this is only my humble opinion, though I hold firm that this will be quite the "look" in New York next fall...mark my words, friends.
I didn't mind the misty weather, though. You see, I had carried around this Harris Tweed jacket all afternoon. Then at night it got cold and damp. With the lapels flipped up, this jacket kept me warm and dry...but the musty smell of wet wool leaves a bit to be desired.
I'm tellin' you...tweed and white bucks are a combo to be reckoned with, boys.