9:37pm. On the corner of Little West 12th and 9th Avenue in the heart of Manhattan's Meatpacking District. The hustle and bustle of New York's night owls make their way to restaurants, bars and loft parties. The sound of taxicab engines and honking cars are fused with the chatter of "he-said, she-said", the recent layoff count at each bank and an endless list of sample sales. Every street corner of every block in Manhattan sure has its own story. At this particular corner, stands a small Asian man. No different from any Asian man, he bobbles back and forth, hands behind his back, as he awaits his friend's arrival, presumably for a casual dinner. He has round prescription glasses, a navy blue linen shirt, suspenders, somewhat-faded caramel khaki's and Clark's suede loafers. I had been watching him for a while , trying to figure out what I had enjoyed about his sartorial presentation. As fashionably-precise as an Editor for GQ, I began to breakdown why I believed his choices made for his outfit represented him well.
Loose-fitted for a rather frail frame, color choice for seasonal appropriateness, both shirt and pants not neatly pressed... allowing for a relaxed, casual appearance and accessorized to maximize personal finishing touches. His pants were rolled above his ankle, which seems to be a trend that has been around for a few years. I couldn't help but notice his shoes. His technique of rolling his pants to show a sockless foot in worn, suede kicks was a star choice in allowing passersby to notice his footwear. I'm sure he had something else in mind, however, he made a point to break his outfit from his shoes.
Whatever the case might be with this gentleman, an ongoing trend that has spread throughout the world of exposing the ankle with roll-ups and avoiding a sock provokes a frenzy of conclusions, all of which could possibly apply. He went sockless to avoid looking like a geek. He wanted to omit socks to display his favorite choice in footwear. Perhaps that it's just trendy and he wants to fit in. This look can also be our generation's interpretation of "recessionista", carefully choosing hobo-chic edged clothing to promote a seemingly penniless existence while remaining in the lines of stylistic excellence.
I always worried about shortening the length of my pants to avoid my sock from showing. Often times, I prefer a longer pant leg so the natural drag would offer a worn look created by me, not achieved by purchasing pre-damaged denim, say, at Abercrombie. Rolling my pant leg up or purchasing permanently-cuffed pants both rubbed me the wrong way. I would sometimes think that the whole point to cuff a pant was that the pant was too long and cuffing or rolling was a way to preserve the cut of the pant's integrity without altering the length of the pant permanently. I have been enlightened. While cuffs are not my personal look, I can certainly enjoy an individual who rolls his/her pant to redefine style with an alternative option. When we are heavy in work and wish to roll our sleeves, we do so. Perhaps, in efforts to avoid ruining them. Sometimes, our cufflinks sit uncomfortably under our wrists, as we type away furiously. Report after report. Email after email. So, we roll them up. Could we claim that we roll our pant legs in the same fashion to create an image of purposeful function? More blatantly letting others know, "We are busy people and we had to roll them up to engage in something (somewhat labor intensive)".
As we shift into fall, we can still relive those hot summer nights by rolling our pant leg up. If not for fashion, then for function.
