FAVORITE: Dog Days Of...Fall?

Right when I'm settling into a happy routine of sweaters, wool socks and layering, the temperature spikes up to the mid-80s. I shouldn't be surprised. It's just like you to do this, Midwest—every damn year. Ah, well. When summer is as fleeting as it is in the northern half of this region, you've gotta cherish every last day even if it comes in the middle of autumn.

And when you find a piano on an abandoned freight railroad track, what do you? You were going to say "take some senior pictures," right? Right. (You're all invited to my high school graduation in two years.) Thankfully, the talented Rob Culpepper was on hand and in the mood to shoot some medium format film on the Bloomingdale Trail, Chicago's undeveloped and still super-secret future answer to New York's High Line.

A note on the trousers: Dockers? Yeah, you read that right. Your dad's favorite brand has updated some of its offerings with more tapered silhouettes that look like like khakis but wear like jeans. They're called Alpha Khakis, and I've been wearing the hell out of 'em. Along with a second green pair, they've become fast favorites. 

It's still fall, right? I got hooked on yerba mate in Argentina and have it with me most days when it gets late in the year.

On Seth: Indian cotton button-down (sale $30, reg. $75) by J.Crew; "Alpha Khakis" in British khaki (sale $59, reg. $68) by Dockers; natural veg leather belt by Cause and Effect; thrifted loafers by Giorgio Brutini; "Weekender" watch ($25) by Timex with Horween leather strap ($95) by Buckshot Sonny's.

Oh, and if you're a Mizzou Tiger, you're headed into a special weekend. Cam and I will see you at Homecoming, suckers.

Photos by Rob Culpepper.

UNIFORM: Work From Home

When you work from home, you sometimes have to come up with elaborate ways to actually trick yourself into, you know, working. (Yo freelancers, you feel me?) One of mine is actually getting dressed. In the words of the wise scribe Blake Royer, "If you don't have pants on by 9 a.m., you're finished."

I can drink to that, Blake. It might be a throwback to the days of my high school dress code, but I do better work when I'm dressed for it. (Mention that you're a freelancer, and be prepared to hear how jealous people are that you get to work in bed wearing your underwear. That can work for some folks. But not me; I'll just end up power-eating dry pasta [think I'm kidding?] and marathoning FIFA's career mode all morning.)

That's why I put on clothes. And sometimes a tie—when I really need to make it rain.

So, when Jeff sent me his favorite one-word text ("Photoshoot?"), I was able to grudgingly hop on my bike and head straight to Logan Square to meet up with him and John.

A quick word about the tie: It's a stunner. I nabbed it from Lands' End Canvas on sale (you can, too), and I've been wearing it almost non-stop. I'd been looking for a bright tie, but what really made me notice it was the dual pattern on the narrow end. A subtle but fun detail. The only downside is that it wrinkles easily because it's cotton—but that's nothing a quick steam can't fix. Oh, and here's a bonus: It's made in America.

The shirt: I kept hearing about Modern Tailor (and other online made-to-measure clothing companies), but I was a little skeptical. Places like Reddit and StyleForum originally seemed to share my uncertainty about whether this was a good buy, but recently people have been more positive about the results. When I saw that first-time customers can customize a trial shirt (white, blue or black) for just under $20, I figured I'd take the plunge. 

I knew the blue would last longer than the white, so I took measurements from a few my best-fitting shirts. It ended up being a hybrid: the sleeves and shoulders of one, the torso of another, the tail from a third. My total came to $30, because I opted for a couple of upgrades, including mother-of-pearl buttons. I also went with the spread collar and notched cuff.

My only complaint is that the arm holes are a little high. They're snug in my pits, but that's because of the way I measured, and I can tweak it on the next one if I decide to go this route again. Otherwise, perfection. So far (after probably a dozen wears), the construction seems to be holding up—and slipping on a shirt that's made for your body creates an inexplicable feeling of invincibility. Of course, the price gets steeper (starting around $50 and going up from there except for the occasional sale), but I imagine I'll be going back.

On Seth: Spread-collar dress shirt ($30, promo) by Modern Tailor; cotton tie (sale $35, reg. $50) by Lands' End Canvas; "Kane" trousers in Aged Greystone courtesy of J Brand; self-made natural leather belt with help from Cause & Effect; woven and stitched loafers ($6, thrifted) by Giorgio Brutini; red tote (sale $40, reg. $150) by Filson; "Weekender" watch with olive strap ($29, Amazon) by Timex.

Photos by John Stoffer.

THE RUNDOWN: NorthernGRADE

Behold: NorthernGRADE. Every September, some of the movers and shakers in American-made menswear descend into the cluttered, boozy labyrinth of the Architectural Antiques in Minneapolis to hawk their wares.

Inspired by NYC's Pop Up Flea, the ladies and gentlemen at J.W. Hulme Company and Pierrepont Hicks tie shop decided to add the Midwest to the conversation by founding their own market in 2010—which makes this the second of a (hopefully) annual tradition.

I hitched a ride up to the fest for the launch of Buckshot Sonny's, Max Wastler and Joe Gannon's vintage sporting goods store. (If you're not familiar yet, you should be.) It was hard to contain the excitement as it built over the 7.5-hour drive, and it wasn't long before there were copious amounts of rapping during the 3G-less stretches of Wisconsin and Minnesota. When we arrived, we weren't disappointed. What follow are simply snapshots punctuated by a few important quotes, because like many of the best experiences—you just kinda had to be there. Next year's your chance.

Buckshot Sonny's, named after Joe's grandfather Sonny and Max's dad, who they called 'Buckshot' as a kid, is "the store your grandfather would have taken your father to for his first baseball glove."

• "We want one of our baseballs or footballs to be the family picnic ball. When we're done, I'll give it to my son, and he'll give it to his, maybe." — Joe Gannon

Red Wing, this year's main sponsor.

Two fine fellows: Brad Bennett of Well-Spent and Mike Maher of Taylor Stitch.

Intelligentsia coffee was on site.

The Hill-Side, offered by BlackBlue.

The incomparable Billy Moore, of Cause and Effect, hawking his skins. "Buy some belts!" he barks.

One of the (many) interesting things about Billy is that he's not much for the indecisive. Like a maverick who pops up unannounced at spots all across the country, it's "Buy a belt here and now, or wait and see where I appear next."

And his process is nothing if not unique. It's all about the story for Cause and Effect—whether it's wading into a Tennessee river to drape a hide over a big, wet rock or hammering belts on a cobbled New York street.

You can read more about his process over at All PlaidOut, but here's a bit of lore he shared with me about his mysterious Mason jar full of moonshine. This particular batch, Billy says, was made by the son of Popcorn Sutton, the legendary Tennessee moonshiner. No one's heard from him since around 2009...possibly because he may not be alive any more.

"Popcorn Sutton been caught by the ATF for the fifth time," Billy says. "He had about 5,000 quarts of moonshine, and they were going to give him 30 days a gallon.

"The story goes that he killed himself rather than go to prison. But here's the thing: The only people who saw him dead were the sheriff and the coroner—who both happened to be his cousins."

The trick is to take a breath before you take a drink.

Billy had me make a belt, which you'll see in coming posts as we track its progress from natural leather to seasoned beauty.

One of the fine products from Duluth Pack, which we've written about before.

I had a chance to chat with Molly Solberg, Duluth Pack's marketing director, who filled me in on why the company's heritage matters to so many people:

• "We're fashionable because we're 120-plus years old, not because we're a flash in the pan."
• "You can walk into Walmart and by a $20 bag every season or spend $115 on one of ours and never buy another."
• "Every day, I walk through the sewing room. You'll see a bag made by Linda, a breast cancer survivor. We have a sewer, Suzie, who's been here for 20 years. Whatever we can do to help Suzie as she puts her kids through college, we're going to do."
• "Ultimately, you're employing Minnesotans and saving money over the long run."

A clever business card from Angie Sheldon.

Becca James, the editor of Pop 'stache, browses wool shirts offered by Greenwich Vintage.

On the culture of NorthernGRADE:

• 'Zen' Pomazi, one of the purveyors of Greenwich Vintage, is finding that men take a little longer to care about appearance and quality these days. But eventually, he says, a nostalgia kicks in, even though it might be for something they've never experienced themselves.
• "Guys get to a certain age—maybe they're getting married, maybe they're having kids—and they start to pay attention," Zen says. "They see some of this stuff, and they remember Dad."

And this, from Noah Zagor, is perhaps the best summation of why any of this matters:

"I had an uncle who was a geology professor at Oxford University," Noah says. "I remember visiting him, and he would point to the motto emblazoned on the gates: 'Manners Makyth Man.'"

Correction: An earlier version of this story misattributed the above quote. Our sincerest apologies to Noah. We regret the error.