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category_outlined / Men's Lifestyle
EsquireEsquire

Esquire November 2018

Esquire is a funny, informative, connected magazine that covers the interests of American men—all the interests of the American man: Politics, style, advice, women, health, eating and drinking, the most interesting people of our time. All that and it’s the most-honored monthly magazine in history.

Country:
United States
Language:
English
Publisher:
Hearst
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9 Issues

IN THIS ISSUE

access_time1 min.
let’s get back to the basics

Nostalgia for the ’80s and ’90s has swallowed most of our movies and TV shows, so why not fashion, too? The best styles from the days of MJ and mixtapes are back—think fewer mullets and less neon everything and more bold, timeless clothes, such as striped suits and turtlenecks. To show off the outfits, we photographed models of that era, like legendary supermodel Tyson Beckford (below). You might not even have to go shopping—just check the back of your closet (but leave the shoulder pads at home).…

access_time2 min.
esquipedia

A BRIEF MONTHLY EXPANSION ON A TOPIC EXPLORED IN THE ISSUE Thanksgiving is the annual national holiday in which we celebrate the few parts of the harvest that we can actually eat because of our many food allergies and dietary restrictions. The holiday was created by the Pilgrims, many of whom were religious Puritans who left England to avoid persecution for their ridiculous buckle fetish. They settled in Massachusetts, where they were the first people known to live in America except for the many people who were already here. Records show that in the 1600s, the first Thanksgiving celebrations were loosely scheduled for the period just after Witch Burning Man but before Shame on You for Even Thinking About a Valentine’s Day. Today, Thanksgiving always occurs on the fourth Thursday after the start…

access_time4 min.
scene machine

In 1967, two years before I was born, a twenty-eight-year-old from the Bronx had a dream that began with a line of ties. By 1985, the year I turned sixteen and started to notice such things, that vision had become an empire, with outposts as far-flung as San Antonio, my hometown, and it was in a Polo Shop—one of the first standalone stores in the country—that encountered the drunk rush of Ralph Lauren’s all-embracing sense of style, from cologne to key fobs, socks to sunglasses, wool flannels to wallpaper. I had been spending Sunday afternoons poring over the lavish ten-page Polo advertising spreads in The New York Times Magazine and had finally convinced my mother to drive me across town to see the store. It was, as I expected, an…

access_time3 min.
mo’ guts, mo’ glory

Until recently, most years’ horror-movie slates belonged in the cringiest corner of a Blockbuster. (Another Saw?) These days, the things that keep us up at night are much different—there’s less anxiety over a Final Destination-esque death by tanning bed and more concern over a government order legalizing mass murder for a night. But our fears have always been cerebral enough for awards season. The original Nosferatu was an allegory of xenophobia, The Mummy of colonialism—not to mention classics like The Silence of the Lambs. It took Get Out—a Trump-era masterpiece ready-made for thinkpieces and Twitter theses—to remind us why horror is the perfect genre for our increasingly terrifying reality. For the superhero-level volume of scary movies out there, we present this guide to help you distinguish a Babadook from a Slender…

access_time3 min.
keep calm and kick arse

This past March, Sir Michael Caine was puttering about in the garden at his country house, a 200-year-old converted tithe barn in the English countryside west of London, when he slipped on a patch of ice, breaking an ankle. A photo from his 85th-birthday celebration a couple weeks later shows him being gamely pushed around in a wheelchair by an impromptu aide who happens to be another Sir: Paul McCartney. A long recovery ensued, from wheelchair to walker to walking stick (which he finally cast aside in September). For many of us, extended convalescence might mean finally tackling the collected works of Karl Ove Knausgaard or binge-watching House of Cards. But Caine put this inconvenient time-out to good use: He cranked out a book, his fourth, called Blowing the Bloody…

access_time3 min.
mumble on

Kanye West once said, “Listen to the kids, bro.” And until recently, I listened to Kanye West. So it was with great anticipation that I sat down to stream “XO Tour Llif3,” by Lil Uzi Vert, a rising star of “SoundCloud rap”—a genre that, depending on whom you ask, represents either the future of hip-hop or the downfall of Western civilization. Uzi and his peers are mostly very young men with monikers like Ski Mask the Slump God and Wifisfuneral, multiple face tattoos, and haircuts rarely seen outside of anime. They rap, chant, mumble, and whine. Hooks are repeated ad nauseam. The bass is so distorted you’ll wonder if your laptop is broken. An acoustic guitar is sometimes thrown in to denote sensitivity. A surprising amount of it sounds like emo…

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