How to be "Slob Chic". What's in Your "B.A.B."? Plus, Sourcing French Side Combs.
Decoding the online language of analog life.
I partook in one of our generation’s great pastimes over the weekend: rotting in bed with my phone. Specifically, I doomscrolled on TikTok, admittedly a place, much like Instagram, that I haven’t spent much time lately.
Amidst a lot of junk and weird conspiracy videos (wtf has happened to TikTok?), some gems surfaced. A creator named Selena showcased a lineup of outfits that resembled the way I like to dress, and called it “slob chic.” Oh. Okay?
Oh! Okay! “Slob chic” is just another way to term the same minimal style we’ve been seeing since CBK popularized it: comfortable basics, in elevated fabrics, accessorized well.
I fell down another rabbit hole of girls talking about their “B.A.B.s.” (That’s an acronym for “Big Ass Bag”.) Ludicrously capacious, if you will. Or as I like to say, “Bag As Car.” It was mostly city-dwellers talking about how they stock their totes for a full day and evening of being away from home.
While shows like Succession would have you believe the “elite” can’t be bothered with such schlepping (because they’re supposedly perpetually trailed by a town car), I know plenty of people whose net worths begin with M’s and B’s who pack a tote bag for the day and take the train with everyone else. Yes, even celebrities. Walking is a way of life here, and in a city this congested, often the train or your feet are the easiest way to get you where you’re going — no matter your tax bracket.
It was the last warm weekend of the year, so on Saturday, my fiancée and I spent the day out in the city with our dogs. I took not one, but two B.A.B.s; one with my stuff in it, and an empty boat and tote for the farmer’s market. We went to the Union Square Greenmarket for dinner provisions, and then headed uptown for some shopping and a quick lunch at the UES Zabar’s.
We stopped into Sid Mashburn, where I was immediately comforted by the voice of someone in the background with a familiar Southern drawl. They’re always so kind to our dogs there, and the only place I can think of where any man on the floor has a pocket full of biscuits ready to go. My guy found a good wool suit jacket. We decided to take the dogs to Central Park, and so we cut down 71st from Madison so I could pop into The Row’s townhouse “just to look”.
The place was as busy as I have ever seen it. Some of the sales associates seemed very frazzled and overwhelmed, but I was helped by Grace, whose gentle energy provided a welcome respite.
I watched agog as two tourists bought four Margaux bags of varying sizes in one swipe and chimed in when another customer had the Marlo slung over her shoulder. “I have that bag and I love it, the strap goes over your shoulder in a coat!" You know, as girls do.
I tried on a grey wool set (in graphic, top of page) that immediately caught my eye, but the Gala pants were available in numbered sizes (they’re usually sized from XS to XL) and I was lost. Grace took one look at me and returned with a size six shirt and a size eight pair of pants. I’ve lost about 15lbs lately, but I still felt like she was going to be off. But this is why you go into the store, work with a real person, and try things on sometimes: the fit was perfect, and I left with the set, along with a new red eel sunglass case for my naked Linda Farrows.
(I’ve actually seen a glut of très fancy sunglass accessories lately: Métier’s sculptural Issimo case, Sherman Field’s nylon and fine silver loops, Kallmeyer’s Lunette case with its swishy tassel. And there’s always the vintage route, too.)
I’m 5’9, so I don’t have to get Gala pants hemmed, and the shirt drapes beautifully, but the outfit could still be mistaken for a pair of pajamas. I’ll put them on with a brown leather jacket and my Marlo bag and be dressed in five seconds flat.
Slob chic, with a big-ass bag.
When the tarot card reader videos show up, that’s when I know I have gone too far down the Internet black hole and that I’m cut off from TikTok for the night. (Put me in time out if I ever listen to one of those people.) But before I hopped off, I saw one last video about French Side Combs.
I remembered my Mom used to wear these and wondered if they’re poised for a comeback the way French hairpins did a few years ago. The Row used them beautifully in their most recent lookbook (above and below, hair by Guido Palau).
It would align with the collective obsession with C.O. Bigelow’s tortoise headbands (again, like CBK famously wore) and, to reiterate what one of the girls in the videos points out, can mimic what your hair does when you push it off your face with sunglasses.
Last thing. I’m working on gift guides (‘tis the season). One new category I’m introducing this year is “Gifts for the Extremely Analog” — an idea I’m sure one of the usual cohort of unoriginal mimics on here will copy, mark my words — but as part of that, I’ve been wayyyyy deep in agenda and journal TikTok.
The trouble with sourcing presents for others is that you often end up buying presents for yourself. But you know what? I let myself have as many pens, pencils, and notebooks as I want, because I’m constantly scribbling, sketching, cutting, and pasting in one. I’m a freakin’ writer, let me have my stuff.
My agenda is my wallet, my idea book, and my brain. So I got a tricked-out Louise Carmen in Paris. And then I ordered some new graphite Blackwings (“half the pressure, twice the speed”) and a punchy red Kaweco fountain pen. Because it’s fall, and that justifies school supplies.
I love the French combs and the idea of slob chic. It’s very Donni/ my ideal fall work wardrobe.
The Row show made me tempted to steal my mom's French combs that she hardly uses. This made me even more tempted.