[The Chris Robinson funky chicken dance in Current/Elliott elephant bells + HTC belt + JCrew shirt + Nanette Lepore vest + Vanessa Mooney necklaces x2.]
I tend to dig a front man who goes the way of Keith Richards: you know, sloppy, androgynous, like he rolled out of bed and grabbed his old lady’s clothes off the floor before going out for a pint for breakfast. Velvet pants, fringey cape and scarves, floppy hats, and peasant blouses undone to reveal a confusing patch of chest hair.
But Chris would be my model: barefoot, movin’ and groovin’ on an Oriental rug, and taking liberties with personal style. He toes the line with menswear in a way that’s slightly ironic (and likely 100% possible due to scrappy limbs): shabby yet dapper, all at once.
If all else failed, I’d go the same way.
If you never had the chance to see Chris and the Crowes onstage, at least seek out some footage. Man can move.