Cicada Population Control Officer Seth

June 6, 2011
Seth will do anything once.
Seth will do anything once for money.
Seth will do anything once for money that doesn’t land him in jail.
Seth will do anything once for money that involves ingesting something.
After a hours on end of driving my ass around during one of our increasingly frequent Mo.-Kan.-Ill. roadtrips (which he wouldn’t have to do if I just learned how to drive a stick), we sought refuge at the Stipo compound in St. Louis. After lounging in the pool to one of the best party playlists ever, it became clear that Missouri has a cicada problem. A wager was mentioned. Seth ate one.
For how much? Emily and Katie threw out $15 and the lie promise of “We’ll buy you a meal when we come visit Chicago.” Seth accepted the lie offer and slammed a cicada.

TRAVEL: Midwest weddings, shenannigans and reporting

June 4, 2011

We’ve been a little busy lately, thus why we’ve haven’t posted as much.

  • We all went to our dear friend Patrick’s wedding in St. Louis.
  • Seth is from Joplin and went down to do some long-term reporting about the tornado, clean up and see family. His family is safe, but the town is reeling—thanks for your prayers and donations.
  • Jeff has had weddings each weekend and bachelor parties to plan. Someone has to make sure the Knob Creek is safe for everyone to drink and the dance floor is prepped for krumping, Dougin’ and the Bernie.
  • Cameron finished finals at Mizzou and has been getting kicked out of medical trials, thus remaining a rejected test dummy for medical studies. But he’s doing well sans needles and mysterious pills for the sake of fat cash.
See you after the weekend with plenty of photographs, stories and posts to come. Enjoy your weekend.
But really, what have you been up to this week/end?

midweSTYLE: Fight

June 2, 2011

What you don’t know is that Seth and Jeff fight…often. Yes, yes. It’s true, dear readers. Jeff and Seth, although former roommates in college and former couch residents, get in fights. We don’t always see eye-to-eye on everything. Topics and past arguments have included but are not limited to:

  • Why is addressing your parents by their first name rude/inconsiderate?
  • What is a healthy B.A.C. level for a slow Tuesday at 2 p.m.?
  • Should I still be subsisting on cereal even though I’m 23 years old with a full-time job?

We debate these pressing issues week in and week out at The Midwestyle office. Our boy Anthony decided to help us handle these issues on the street.

I really loved playing Mortal Kombat growing up. This image brings back flashbacks. FIGHT!

So the fight begins. FINISH HIM.

Pause for a shot of my fresh kicks.

Annnd…scene.
On Jeff: Chambray-lined, blue-and-white striped button down by J.Crew, small; broken-in orange striped tee by J.Crew, small; straight-leg front-pocket green cargo pants (sale $19.99) by Levi’s, 31×34; classic white “Authentics” courtesy of Vans Shoes, size 11, vintage Clubmasters (Seek Vintage, $12); jersey slub cardigan by J.Crew, small; canvas green unzippered tote (thrifted on eBay, $50) by Filson.

On Seth: Navy cotton, shawl-collar pull-over by Nonnie Threads; light blue button-down (hand-me-down from brother) by Arrow; paisley tie (hand-me-down from grandfather); khaki chinos (retail, $40) by Gap, size 31×30; knock-off Persol wanna-be sunglasses (Seek Vintage, $12); brown suede “Moc” courtesy of Vans Shoes, size 7.5.

Photography by Anthony Barlich.

BADASS TUESDAY: Phil Jackson

May 31, 2011

With the big man finally coaching his last NBA game just a few short weeks ago, there comes an end to perhaps the most dominating professional coaching career in sports history. And with the beginning of the NBA finals at our fingertips, it seems fitting to look back on the man that is Phil Jackson.

As a fan of professional basketball, I’ll always remember Phil Jackson as the most prolific, yet backhanded, trash-talker the game has ever seen. Phil always had something to say. A few words to the media to stir the pot for their upcoming series or a pointedly subtle insult aimed at his opponent’s best player. Basketball may have been Phil’s trade, but mind games were his specialty. Phil’s trash talk wasn’t a product of anger or intimidation as it so often is with others. Jackson opened his mouth to the media with a premeditated purpose to distract his opponents, to get in their head and throw their psyche off balance. Half of the fun of the NBA playoffs was checking SportsCenter to see what the Zen Master was going to comment on or even go on a rant about next. In a world where every player in professional sports seems to want to be friends the guys on the other team (or even plan an elaborate free agent trade to their side of the fence), Phil wasn’t afraid to make a few enemies in pursuit of championship rings.
Ahem, eleven championship rings. The numbers speak for themselves. Eleven rings in just over twenty years. A 50 percent success rate for winning it all. And don’t feed me any BS about how he had Jordan, how he had Kobe. With great talent comes great expectations and, moreover, huge egos. If anything, the guy deserves an award as the best manager of personalities the league has ever seen. And he thrived on making his best players peak at playoff time, when it mattered. Fanning the flame of their confidence when they needed it, humbling them when their heads ballooned, as they so easily do when you’re busy three-peating all over the place. I’ll remember Phil less for the triangle offense and more for his relational approach to coaching—the approach that built him a dynasty of success that doesn’t look like it’ll be surpassed any time soon.
The league’s gonna miss you, Phil. And I will too.
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[image source]

midweSTYLE: Entryway

May 30, 2011
Since moving to Chicago, I’ve been fortunate to meet passionate people. I love meeting folks who are going after what makes them tick. It’s a beautiful thing to meet someone who loves what they do and attacks it relentlessly. I’ve met a few of these types already—take roommates Drew and Anthony. Drew is a hairstylist and Anthony is a photographer. Here’s how we met:
When I was jet-setting to Chicago for interviews in the tail end of what we all thought was winter in March, I bumped into Drew at a Thursday-night event that bridged our interests. His style was a little West coast, relaxed but put together, but the dude is from Wisconsin. We starting chatting about why he was wearing slim-fit, white rolled denim and why he is in Chicago. I asked him what he liked to do and he replied, “I cut hair and you need a hair cut.”
Cool, I thought. I’ve got my guy to cut my hair. It’s a thing that many don’t have these days: “their guy” at the barber shop, at the menswear store, at the tailor, at the local restaurant. Their guy. Your guy who helps you out when you need the latest or a fixing. He knows enough about your life to ask how your family’s doing. How work’s going. What you thought about that thing that happened on the Blue Line the other day. I just moved here, and I’ve officially secured another year of not having to step into a professional salon. Glory, glory, glory. I can pay AND tip the hairstylist in booze, meals and bargains. Relief.
A month later when I moved to Chicago, I show up to Drew’s apartment and met Anthony while I was getting my hair cut. I told Drew to do whatever he thought would work best. (It’s hair. It’ll grow.) Anthony is a rad man from Pennsylvania who has got a serious case of trigger finger. Dude’s got the camera glued to his face, and when you get a chance to see his face past the scruff, he has a smile that stretches from ear to ear an reveals an enthusiasm to know you and your passion.
Anthony took some time off between shooting medical hip replacement surgeries and New York weddings to hang out with Seth and I. We got a little work done…

FAVORITE PART OF THE LOOK: Clashing patterns and prints. If these socks had parents, Mortia Adams and Beetlejuice would be a notch above in the family tree. Kind of a dark and quirky feel much like the set in Anthony and Drew’s old apartment entryway. Mix these with a preppy and spring-madras bow tie, and it somehow works. Or maybe it doesn’t. Give it a shot.

Straight-leg “Mushroom” stretch chino ($175) by Nonnie Threads, small; brushed cotton navy button-down (900 Shops in Chicago, sale $30) by J.Crew, extra-small; spring-madras bow tie (Etsy, $20) by AnnaRuna; brown leather belt with brass hardware by J.Crew, size 32; black-and-green striped socks (sale $2.99) by J.Crew, one size; brown leather wingtips (Nordstrom Rack in Chicago, sale $40, reg. $140) by Florsheim, wool scarf (thrifted at Urban Mining in Kansas City, $8) by Pendleton; unzippered green canvas tote (eBay sale $50, reg. $90) by Filson.

Photography by Anthony Barlich.

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