"What they created was greater than art because you live your life in it"

I don't really know how to handle a stylish man. I live at the intersection of Izods, madras shorts, and deck shoes and trucker hats, T-shirts with wildlife themes, and Levis. My father has a closet full of lawyerly Oxford shirts and loafers, light blue Wranglers from the 80s, and a captain's hat he wears at every opportunity. The man in my life, although adorable, wears interchangeable blue jeans, khaki shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flips year-round, with little thought for trends or personal flair or tailoring. Hell, I buy most of his clothes, and as long as they fit and aren't red, orange, or brown, he's good. The only fashionable guy I've ever dated looked like Rob Lowe and wore pink Polos and Ray Bans and checked himself out in every available reflection. I'm pretty sure he used a hair dryer. It was obviously never going to work between us. My gay brother is the only man in my life who is stylish: he is impeccably and expensively dressed at all times, his clothes are always tailored and pressed and coordinated, and he has the best accessories, including an impressive and chic eyewear collection. I once spent a delightful few minutes gently stroking the lapel of his Chanel suit.

So it's understandable that, given my background, it took me a while to realize that the author of Getting Beat Like You Stole Something is a straight man. This says nothing about the author (except that he neglected to have an about page) and everything about my expectations for male behavior. Because here is a boy with a fashion blog. A straight boy. No, really.

For a fashion blog (oh, he says it's a "fashion, food, design, art, and culture in general" blog, but it leans heavily on the fashion bit), the design is rather stark. I like minimalism (did anyone see that episode of Absolutely Fabulous where Edina and Patsy visit their friends' ultra white home? No?), and you definitely don't want to over-design your blog when you're featuring so many pictures, but a little pizazz wouldn't hurt. Get a groovy banner, roll up your archives and your categories, and add a punch of color. Make your design more personal: we can't all be The Sartorialist. Consider using tabs; you can easily put "my stuff," "stuff for your girl," and "steez biting" on their own pages. And you need an about page. Who the heck are you, and why should we care what you think?

Greenjeans is an urban hipster, as I understand them, but classy and tailored with a retro-chic vibe. So hip is he, in fact, that I had to urban dictionary the hell out of some things. "Co-sign"? "Dopeshow"? Really? Why did people ever stop saying "radical"? I felt a bit like I needed to wrangle Rassles in on this review, for translation purposes. The author is a pretentious little git, which doesn't mean I don't like him. I'd just spend a lot of time calling him a pretentious little git.

Aside from being a pretentious urban hipster, Greenjeans has his good points. He knows who Nancy Kwan is, for one, and mentions her often. He's got a healthy appreciation for those who've come before, and his writing is spare but evocative.

She seems like the girl you met during that semester abroad in Paris. You were supposed to study international finance and the effects of globalization but instead you marveled at how she smoked endless cigarettes and drank really strong coffee. That and the way she dressed made you feel like you were in a movie.

A good tie is a like a good gun, it won't let you down and is apropos in nearly any situation.

His offers quick, well-written observations and longer, equally well-written commentary. I like his style and his voice, and it was a nice diversion to browse back through his short but consistent history of posts and linger a while.

I have no complaints about your writing, Greenjeans. Your blog isn't expository or personal or even a showcase for your craft; it's a collection of tips, opinions, and observations. And though I generally prefer the former, there's nothing wrong with the latter. It's possible you're lucky you got me for a reviewer, because I'm the one with a hefty subscription to fashion blogs on my feed reader. And congratulations, you just joined them.