Shop more.Last year I resolved to resist new-clothing temptations better, but to still fill my closet of the mind while wandering the weird, unexpected, wilder-than-ever menswear geography with gleeful abandon.
Shop less. Lots of my colleagues, it seems, spent the year refining their shopping habits: buying less and buying better. Shopping local. I…did not refine my shopping habits. I shopped early and often. I bought from Twitter and Instagram. I bought on sale and at full-price. I bought a dress shirt and ties when the lockdown hit in March. I bought baggy skate cargos in December. I bought at least two pairs of sneakers I probably won't wear. I bought golf clubs. Maybe my shopping was a tool to soothe pandemic anxiety; maybe it was just a thing to do with the money I wasn't spending at restaurants and bars; maybe it was rooted in a real desire to support the people who make the clothes I love to wear. Probably all three. But I find myself at the end of the year in possession of a whole bunch of stuff. I also find myself reverting an easy, stylish, dress-like-a-French-girl uniform—white tee, light-wash jeans, loafers, a blazer or a sweater or a leather jacket—that leaves many of my 2020 purchases in the closet. I'm excited to buy some new stuff this year—and I'm really excited to make sure it's stuff I want to wear. — Sam Schube
Find meaning. There are too many boring clothes. I'm not necessarily talking about plain clothes. I'm not even really talking about mass-market jawnz. I'm talking about meaningless clothes that I have no connection with. Most of the clothes I end up getting rid of either don't get much play or don't mean anything to me. I want more of my clothing to be driven by a personal connection. Clothes that have a story behind them. Merch from my favorite pizza joint, a face mask made by a homie, bad socks gifted to me from a family member. Whether it's because I'm hanging on to sentimentality or am being guilt tripped, these are the clothes that'll stay in the rotation year after year (it's also an environmental plus). 2021 is for very meaningful clothes. — Gerald Ortiz
Do me. Five years ago, when I started working at GQ, I had no idea how to dress. I only knew that it certainly didn't involve any of the big and comfy things I owned or liked wearing: baggy pants, oversized hoodies, high-top Nikes or running shoes. Now, five years later, and one year into our stay-at-home lives, everyone is dressing like that. I really don't want to gloat and say that I was right all along, except here I am, gloating. Of course, if I'd only listened to my smarter, more stylish GQ colleagues from the beginning—telling me that personal style was just that: personal—I wouldn't have had to spend those five years berating my wardrobe. So, this year, I'm actually taking that advice: Dress like yourself. If it isn't cool now, don't worry. In five years, it probably will be. — Clay Skipper