No one on this earth would ever describe me as fashion forward.
I am at my most comfortable throwing on some dungarees, a tee shirt and a North Face fleece which has just the right amount of thickness to hide my excessive hipline yet not too thick to cause excessive sweating.
My only concession to style would be my $180 Panama Jack ankle-high leather boots.
I wear them because they are comfortable, provide ample support against my plantar fascitis and because the Vibram heel adds 3/4 inch to my stature, barely lifting me out of being labeled a short guy.
That is not to say I am completely unaware of the latest sartorial trends.
Working in advertising, I bear ample witness to ear gauges, frothy beards, stingy brim fedoras and the oh-so-popular man bun. I am not interested in any of these affectations, I am only interested in making uninformed old man prejudgments of those who choose to partake in them.
As a grumpy old timer who enjoys the artificiality of those who have not advanced to 44 years of age, I make it my duty to spot new and upcoming trends.
And as you might have guessed, we have one -- the Jacques Cousteau look.
For many of you that reference will seem dated. Not to worry, Cousteau's life was spoofed by the highly overrated Wes Anderson (with the exception of Fantastic Mr. Fox) and the unwatchable Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou.
In the past two weeks I've now spotted no fewer than 10 hipsters sporting this exact look. Mostly at the nearby Whole Foods Store, where it gets "unreal in the parking lot."
What I find most amazing about those bedecked with this latest manifestation of faux masculinity is the thinness of it all.
Because I'd put my testicles up on the chopping block to bet that if you were to shake the hands of these landlubbing "sailors", you'd find the soft, uncalloused skin of a man who has never skippered a boat, never fished at sea and never even tied a Sheepshead Knot.
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