Justin Bieber Brought Cold-Weather Sleazy Style to NYC This Weekend
President's Day is a holiday for Americans to sit in their sweatpants and reflect upon the many things our 44.00004 Commanders in Chief have blessed us with. Whether it's FDR's New Deal, Barack Obama's fight for healthcare for all, or that one time Donald Trump made sense, it's a moment to tip our hats to our leaders.
That's why we should all pause and tip our hats to the incumbent President of Sleazy Style, Mr. Justin Bieber, for giving us a trifecta of cold-weather fits oozing with the essence of Sleaze on this President's Day Weekend.
I don't know why our P.O.S.S. was out here skateboarding in The Big Apple. I don't know where he was going so fully* equipped for safety. But comfy and confident he was, in a pair of yellow taxi-cab pants and a plain black hoodie, with shoes *tied so wildly inconsistent you have to hope the Sleazcret Service has more than one set of eyes on him. Not to mention, as any content addict can relate to, Biebs has his iPhone secured in his right hand as to not miss a 'gram or a text from First Lady Hailey.
The look is care-free and careful at the same time (see: helmet), embodying sleaze by being thrown together and put-together simultaneously. But it wasn't his only confidently comfortable outing of the weekend.
The commander-in-chief of Sleaze also stepped out in the very ski jacket-and-sweats look I, a lazy-off duty breakfast addict, ran across the street in this morning, straight out of bed, to grab pancake mix. I can't help but admire his ability to wear something so unremarkable given how truly remarkable the man is.
Our third blessing of this three-day weekend had a little to do with an outfit, sure, but mostly to do with a facial expression-a facial expression that swims in the spirit of Sleaze. The eyes that say, "I've been bogarting the blunt." The hat that says, "I tried to cover said eyes, but gave up." And the guy carrying his dopp kit as to remind us all he's not to be bothered-with toiletries or really anything else you plebeians hold in any regard.
And so as we all look back on a three-day weekend designed for admiration, if only through photo galleries of presidents past, I would be remiss not to put a shirt on, crawl out of my bedroom, and show some damn respect for one of the Founding Fathers of Fit.
Justin Bieber, even in seemingly the happiest era of his life thus far, continues to go outside in clothes that would make the mustached and monocled men of fashion's closed chapters drop their glasses of brown liquor and gasp. And for that, on this President's Day, I am thankful. Because the next time a guy in a lonely waistcoat tries to explain "style" to me, I now have even more photographic evidence to smack him in his perfectly manicured stubble with.
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