Leather jacket, vintage. Tee, Hunter S Thompson. High wasted trousers, H&M.
It's a casual Friday. Although, I never go too casual. A vintage red leather jacket is something I think everyone should own, I know it is pretty Thriller, but is also too much fun, and goes surprisingly well with everything. The Gonzo tee came from Hunter's website many years ago.
Hunter S. Thompson is one of the finest, most talented writers of this century (If you liked Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, you'll love The Rum Diary). He was one of my first inspirations when I began to write. His celebrated "Gonzo" journalism has been copied countless times, but never equaled. In honor of my tee shirt, I pulled up an excerpt of my favorite Thompson works, The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved to share. During this part of the story, Hunter is talking with his artist friend Ralph Steadman about the events that transpired at dinner.
"Look, Ralph," I said. "Let's not kid ourselves. That was a very horrible drawing you gave him. It was the face of a monster. It got on his nerves very badly." I shrugged. "Why in hell do you think we left the restaurant so fast?"
"I thought it was because of the Mace," he said.
"What Mace?"
He grinned. "When you shot it at the headwaiter, don't you remember?"
"Hell, that was nothing," I said. "I missed him...and we were leaving, anyway."
"But it got all over us," he said. "The room was full of that damn gas. Your brother was sneezing was and his wife was crying. My eyes hurt for two hours. I couldn't see to draw when we got back to the motel."
"That's right," I said. "The stuff got on her leg, didn't it?"
"She was angry," he said.
"Yeah...well, okay...Let's just figure we fucked up about equally on that one," I said. "But from now on let's try to be careful when we're around people I know. You won't sketch them and I won't Mace them. We'll just try to relax and get drunk."
"Right," he said. "We'll go native."
--From The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved by Hunter S. Thompson
"I thought it was because of the Mace," he said.
"What Mace?"
He grinned. "When you shot it at the headwaiter, don't you remember?"
"Hell, that was nothing," I said. "I missed him...and we were leaving, anyway."
"But it got all over us," he said. "The room was full of that damn gas. Your brother was sneezing was and his wife was crying. My eyes hurt for two hours. I couldn't see to draw when we got back to the motel."
"That's right," I said. "The stuff got on her leg, didn't it?"
"She was angry," he said.
"Yeah...well, okay...Let's just figure we fucked up about equally on that one," I said. "But from now on let's try to be careful when we're around people I know. You won't sketch them and I won't Mace them. We'll just try to relax and get drunk."
"Right," he said. "We'll go native."
--From The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved by Hunter S. Thompson
