The best neon.
Best couple (with turquoise).
The best drape.
I’m breaking radio silence—from I-95! We’re on our way back from a pal’s wedding in FL, with Eli in tow. Things have been busy as bag of spilled Doritos in an ant farm, you guys—both with awesome work challenges, and ongoing efforts around the pad.
Speaking of, check out our house tumblr—Our Own Fan House—it gets a fair amount more love than C+C these days. [A natural symptom. It also gets more financial attention. Which puts the hurt on acquisition of blog-worthy subjects, like rock tees and Rioja.]
The kind of cool thing about this shirt is that my mom and dad have essentially been sporting versions of this since as long as I can remember: soft, faded fishing shirts in awesome bleached-out aquas and greens, with buttoned flaps and pockets and ventilated armpits—uniforms for long days fishing in the Florida Keys when I was growing up, purchased at outdoor outfitter shops.
Every time I put this on, I think of my mom, effortless and indelibly foxy, in her one-piece bathing suit and a fishing shirt tied up around her waist, standing up on the bow of the boat with her rod in hand, all long tan legs, Ray-Ban aviators, and a Heineken between her feet.
So I got it in every color.
What can I say; I’m a sentimental old fool.