So J. Crew sends me this email today (yeah, we're tight), announcing that they have reinvented the chino.
Yes, you read that right: REIVENTED. The CHINO.
As if the chino was CAPABLE of reivention. As if the chino had not already found its niche as the purest sartorial manifestation of James Spader as Steff in Pretty in Pink. (Don't be misled by the name; Chino from West Side Story did not wear chinos. He wore high-water jeans and an expression of terminal constipation. Which, let's be honest, I probably would too if I had to carry around a gun all day in the pocket of my exceedingly tight pants and then carry out a perfectly choreographed gang execution.)
Click to enlarge "the destroyed scout chino." No, really.*
"That girl is, was, and always will be nada."
*Who on earth decided to brand these pants "destroyed Scout chinos"? If I wanted to destroy a scout, I'd give him a handle of SoCo and a merit badge for finding second base without his compass**, not some beige nancy pants (No offense, Steff.)
**Haha JK, I am not a child molester.




They're so not destroyed. Destroying any semblance of cred, sure, but destroyED? Pffft.
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