I've had the same tweed blazer forever, the lining is beat to hell so it's smart on the outside but hobo on the inside. Works for me.
I used to have a red leather jacket that I picked up at a thrift store in Indianapolis that was my other fall jacket. I forget the brand (some slightly upscale 80s designer that was more famous for ladies boots and purses), but it was along the lines of a member's only, some fashionista had told member's only had copied it in the 80s. It was a great jacket, but it got stolen at a bar on my birthday, during my last week in New York before I moved back to Brazil. I asked the bartender if she had seen my jacket, she said someone had been walking around asking who it belonged to but that person had long disappeared. A few minutes later the bartender calls me over and hands me my brazilian passport. I had just renewed it the day before and forgot it in the inside pocket, whoever stole the jacket was nice enough to leave my passport at the bar before taking off.
DocMcCoy said:Corduroy is a difficult line to walk for a man of my advanced years, as you're getting very close to Grizzled, Real Ale-Supping Academic With A Study Full Of Folkways Raers territory. Nevertheless, I see it all as one long extension of what Mike D once described as The B-Boy Fashion Risk - you have to be prepared to get it wrong in order to have any real chance of getting it right. After all, those natives of the five boroughs who initially appropriated Kangols, Cazals, Russian fur chapkas, Bally slippers, Triple Fat Goose jackets and so on as the cornerstones of hip-hop style probably got laughed off the block at first.
I just watched Beat Street last night and that movie is chock full of sartorial gambles.