I’m true to this, not new to this. Before I was Fare Filone, I was a boy, a boy named Sam who loved clothes.
In September 2020, after months of social distancing, I was back in the office. Armed with a svelte post-lockdown body and months of unseen purchases, I put together a lookbook.
The streets won’t forget.
I rocked this shit before Bron, for the record. While working in schools during college, I changed my username so the students couldn’t find me. And newyorklibertysuperfan was born. Like most things in my life, it started as a bit and developed into something I was into. Then the Liberty drafted Sabrina Ionescu first overall ahead of the wubble season, and I was all in.
I would still wear the hoodie if I liked how I looked in the hoodie.
This is probably the one I thought cooked the hardest at the time. Now it’s the one I lol at the hardest. Painted-on drawstring slacks with a pintuck. Pointy Gucci sleds. Henleys only really look good if you’re Jeremy Allen White.
I’m actually still into the jacket, but it was lost in a terrible painting incident. I swear the book was ironic at the time too.
This picture was taken at some Williamsburg rooftop cocktail lounge while Naomi Osaka came back from a set down to win the US Open. I had to watch on a phone because the bar didn’t have TVs, despite the tennis-themed cocktails. It hit my grid back in the day with the caption “mocktails and mixed drinks.” The boots made September’s FWI, and I’m holding onto the sweater. It’ll be chill again soon.
I love this shirt. I camped out on END. until they had a crazy sale and snagged it. Definitely still over $300, a price that made me gag at the time. Oh, how time will desensitize you if you’re sick enough. My big regret here is the rose gold Ferragamo logo belt I wore religiously for a few years. As my mom would say, “You’re such a label whore.”
The overshirt developed a weird wear pattern that’s relegated it to outdoor man’s-man activities. I don’t do much of that.
What I’d like to focus on here, class, is the Chelsea boot. I wore these Cole Haan Chelsea boots for years and had them resoled multiple times. Every dog has its day. These are behind the shed now.
Pretty sure this was mogging in 2020. Eventually I got wine on the crewneck and sold it for like nothing. I’d feel like a jester in that giant graphic crewneck now anyway.
I like the color of these pants even more now than I did then. Early bird gets the fit. And I’m wearing the boots today.
I fucken hated this shirt. Terrible collar, felt like shit. This may have been the only time I wore it. Eventually sold it on Grailed for like $5. Buying off targeted ads is a sucker’s game.
Now let’s address the elephant in the room: my Geese. Before they were New York’s last great rock band, they were my everyday shoe. I wore them through the sole, and then some butcher on 5th Ave destroyed them with a Vibram sole that made me look like a Bratz doll. Turns out they did me a favor.
Nothing utterly offensive here other than the pose. Aforementioned Geese flying as well.
My wife wears this shirt to bed now. I’m clearly not on the phone, but the biggest issue is the sock. What the fuck am I doing here? I spent a lot of these years just raw dogging my shoes. Why I decided to put on a fun-colored ankle sock this day is beyond me.
I told you guys I’m a Liberty fan. I never liked the fit of this crewneck. Made me look so stumpy. I don’t do well with sweatshirts that bunch at the bottom—they shorten my torso, which doesn’t pair well with the short legs.
John Elliott was my favorite brand at the time, and I really tried to get behind the Escobar sweats, but they weren’t doing my proportions any favors either. The boots are a wacky pairing, but I still toss them on every now and then when it rains.
Six years ago, this was my first real attempt at getting dressed for an audience. And I remember… people enjoying it. I had hopes of keeping the machine moving, but this is as far as I got.
Just because you’re laughing at yourself now doesn’t mean you weren’t doing something then. And the way fashion works, you might end up back on a mood board one day.
Some things you hold onto.
The streets will never forget you, Amiri shirt in my storage unit.
-SP
If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles