I wrote about Cavalier Essentials a while back. Cavalier began as a branding project by Taylor Pemberton, and after receiving a plethora of positive press, it looks like he will be launching a real brand in November. Check out the launch video and stay tuned for more.
Archive for October, 2011
I love a good grosgrain striped watch band, but sometimes you need something that suits a more rugged, understated look. DeLuca Straps, based in Sand Diego, CA, hand makes a large selection of leather, croc and rubber straps that will better serve your less preppy side. Each strap is one of a kind.
DeLuca Straps also produces accessories such as wallets, belts and camera a straps. I’m actually in the market for a stylish camera strap, and I now know where I’ll be going.
Monocle launched their 24 hour radio program earlier today. Reporting on current affairs, business, culture and music, Monocle 24 aims to bring that very “Monocle” vibe to the airwaves around the clock. After reading the current issue of Monocle, which focuses on the world of media, I can gather that a Monocle television cable network is not far behind.
I’ll usually throw on some Detroit sports radio if I have down-time at the office, but I’ll certainly now have to tune in to M24 to feed my more cultural side from time to time.
WSJ Magazine recently featured a story titled, “Death of a Playboy”, in which they report on a time when globe-trotting men with a certain swagger and privilege didn’t feel the need to advertise their status to everyone around them. the whole piece is worth a read, however the following excerpt sums it up pretty nicely:
Perhaps the phoniest version of the jet-setting “good life” appears in Sean “Diddy” Combs’s TV ads for his Sean John I Am King cologne. Diddy rides a jet-ski in a full tux, arrives at a helipad armed with body-suited supermodels Bar Refaeli and Ana Paula Araújo at his side, and strides through the Mediterranean in full black tie. If he saw it, Gunter Sachs, the impeccably dressed, tousled-haired heir to Germany’s Opel automobile dynasty, might shoot himself all over again. In his day, a playboy didn’t shout he was a “playah”—he just . . . was. What the deuce did he care if anyone else knew it?