midweSTYLE: Play ball!

Some have their "uniform." You know, the usual. The chinos and button down. The suit and tie. The green apron and black polo. The scrubs. The chef pants and clean white tee. You get the picture. Work or play, some of us just have a "usual."

Photography by the beautiful Carolina Rodriguez

These well-loved selvedge jeans and navy gingham are going to be my fall uniform. It's what you'll see me trotting around Wicker Park in on a Sunday afternoon after brunch. It's what you'll see me wearing as I run/stumble to catch a cab in Lincoln Park. It's what you'll see me throw on when I roll outta bed with 30 minutes 'til I need to be at work. It's that, it's my go-to, the usual, the uniform.

THE VARSITY JACKET: It's one of my favorite thrifted finds of all time. It's so hard to find a naked varsity jacket. Makes you wonder who had it before and why they wimped out to never letter. Speaking of wimps, guess who lettered in varsity athletics in high school? This guy did. Swimming and track and field. Psh, you think I would actually play football? What other sport would a tall skinny white boy excel in who avoided any sort of physical contact? Except the occasional hurdle.

THE "KC" HAT: The navy blue with white felt lettering "KC" hat was the perfect gift one of my coworkers from Kansas City could give me upon departing for the big Windy City. I'm still amazed by the compliments I get and the acquaintances I've met while walking around the city with this cap on. Fitted and in a traditional cut. I love this hat. You can meet Daniel, Matt and David by picking it up at the Baldwin Denim Men's Store in KC or order one online if you don't have the time to visit.

THE "SEVEN" NAVY GINGHAM SHIRT: A button-down with sleeves long enough for my lanky arms? You've got my attention, folks. I'm looking forward to carrying this winter-weight gingham into fall considering most of my ginghams are summer-weight. You can't beat a good navy check shirt; it's practically a neutral. The fit is comfortable as well, not too snug and not too relaxed, even for a toothpick like me. You can snatch one up at Wharf in blue or a variety of colors.

Also, Happy Anniversary to my Baldwin "Henley's." One year with no wash and one crotch repair. This is a menswear right of passage into adultswaghood, folks.

What's your fall uniform? Chambray, chinos, desert boots, tweed jacket, etc. Let us know.

On Jeff: "The Henley" 11.5 oz raw selvedge denim by Baldwin Denim ($200); The "Seven" navy gingham button-down ($148) courtesy of WHARF; the "KC" hat by Baldwin Denim ($42); "Spectator LX" in Moon Beam courtesy of Vans x The Brothers Marshall ($85); thrifted wool blue and white varsity jacket with leather insets by Butwin from Wild Man Vintage ($12); brass railroad spike cuff by Giles & Brother ($55).

Photography by the talented Carolina Rodriguez.

Friday Wrap-Up: Oct. 7

Is it Friday already? Guess that means we'll be living it up here this weekend. Hope you see you there.

In the meantime, in between reading poignant profiles of Steve Jobs, here are just a few style-related stories you should check out:

• "No one really thought about why glasses were so expensive." The founders of Warby Parker explain how they subverted the eyewear industry and brought us spectacles that don't break the bank. (via Racked via Time)
• Rugby brings the Tweed Run to New York City. Get thee to the streets. (via Marion Brewer)
• And the funniest thing you'll read today: Chelsea Fagan for Thought Catalog on what the hell is going on with street-style photography. (via Marion Brewer)

That's all. What? You're still here? Go. Go on.

THE REPERTOIRE: Breakfast In Bed

We're excited to bring you the first installment in our four-part series on style and food. A few weeks ago, we introduced you to Blake Royer, who runs a site called The Paupered Chef. Over drinks at our regular spot off Fullerton Avenue, we philosophized that a man should master a few recipes—ready to call upon in any situation.

Starting today, Blake will produce a tiny cookbook of sorts for us. One recipe for each meal of the day: breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert. They'll be constrained by situation (e.g. lunch while working from home), budget (e.g. $5, or maybe what you've got in the fridge) and time (e.g. you've got 10 minutes to throw an elegant breakfast together before heading to work.)

Our inaugural post would have been impossible without the help of Hannah Lea, another new Chicagoan whose elegance and poise is already catching eyes all over town. She's got a site of her own that you should run—not walk—to check out. Hannah indulged us by agreeing to be part of the story, and it would have been a failure without her.

First up: Breakfast.

Last night was nuts. Between the dancing, the toasting and the unexpected requests to sing your famous rendition of that hit from the '60s, you're pretty sure your suit needs to be dry-cleaned. If you remember correctly, someone ended up in a fountain. But the time is now. You're wide awake, and after a quick glance at the beautiful woman beside you, you realize. You had planned to spend a leisurely day together. But that meeting—the one with the big client—is this morning.

This, of course, makes you seem like an asshole. This is the classic dash. But in this case, it's no excuse; it's the way it is. Missing this one isn't an option. How do you explain yourself? With breakfast in bed. You slip out from beneath the covers and heat the pan.

Introducing your new go-to: the French omelette.

The French have this concept of "to taste." Just enough to get the flavor of the thing. It's the opposite of the American way. It's to savor, not to be full. And if she doesn't like breakfast—if she doesn't like eggs—she shouldn't be in your home in the first place.

A few words from Blake about the art of the omelette:

The French omelette, unlike our American counterpart, isn't about the filling. In its pure state, there's nothing but eggs, salt and pepper. Done right, it's tender, elegant, understated, charming…everything you wish you were as a conversationalist. Making one requires technique. A bunch of gooey cheese and ham won't be there to help matters, so you just have to cook it well. No pressure.

It may sound counterintuitive, but cook yours first. Not only will it ensure hers is hot when you serve them, it will season the pan. Like pancakes, the second one is always better.

The technique I've settled on is to add a teaspoon of water for each egg, which hits the hot pan and immediately evaporates to lift the eggs and make the omelette fluffy. This is an exercise in timing. But judging from what it took to get you here, you're already a master of that. Unlike scrambled eggs—which are all about patience and coaxing—the omelette is a 30-second, high-heat affair. You can't hesitate. Pour in the eggs, never stop shaking the pan and have the coffee already made.

The French Omelette

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 4 grinds of fresh pepper
• 2 teaspoons cold water
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh herbs (optional)

Time: 2–3 minutes (prep), less than 60 seconds to cook.

Budget: $1–2. These are ingredients you should have on hand always.

(Serves one. Repeat, but don't double, for two. Omelettes are cooked one at a time.)

1. In a mixing bowl or measuring jar, combine the eggs, salt, pepper, and water. Whisk vigorously to combine.

2. Heat a small skillet between 8 and 10 inches wide, preferably nonstick, over medium-high heat until drops of water dance on the surface. Add the butter, which will sputter and foam. When the foam subsides, and the butter just begins to color and smell nutty, add the egg mixture all at once.

3. Immediately, begin to shake the pan to distribute the eggs all over the surface and up the sides. Technique varies; some suggest pulling up the sides of the omelette and tilting the pan to let uncooked egg slide under, or using a spatula to gently break holes in the eggs to let uncooked egg run there. What's important is to never stop shaking the pan. It helps prevent any browning, a sign that the eggs are tough and you've overcooked it. Remember, it will keep cooking off the heat. If desired, sprinkle the interior of the omelette with herbs or a little sharp cheese.

4. Using a spatula, fold one side of the omelette one-third of the way toward the opposite side, like the first fold of a letter. Tip the omelette out of the pan with the folded side towards the plate, then roll it onto the dish so both sides are folded under. Serve immediately with buttered toast.

On Hannah Lea: Your Gitman Vintage oxford button-down.

On you: Hanes ComfortSoft tagless v-neck. Three for $11.

Fall Essentials: Jackets

When it comes to building a wardrobe, fall should be your favorite time of the sartorial year. You get to pile on layers upon layers: cardigans and scarves; knits, wovens and henleys on button downs on sweaters....I could go on.

Let's talk jackets—the most important piece. Choices are endless, but in a pinch I'll go ahead and say you only need one: a nice blazer in a charcoal color.

1) rag & bone button down, rag & bone corduroy pants, chocolate suede boots by Red Wing

2) rag & bone button down, J.Brand slim cargo pants, laceless "Lexingtons" by Florsheim.

3) rag & bone button down, 14.5 oz selvedge "Henley" denim by Baldwin, desert boots by Clarks.

This is one of the most expensive pieces I first bit the bullet on after I graduated college. But that's okay: There comes a time in a new man's life when you gotta. This guy has been my lifesaver, my wool blend charcoal blazer by Billtornade.

Above: Shrunken wool-blend blazer by Billtornade, baby blue oxford by American Apparel, thrifted striped tie, natural leather belt by Urban Outfitters, 14.5 selvedge "Henley" denim by Baldwin Denim.

A navy blazer is another solid option. A nice weight with a little sheen never hurt either.

Above: Blue cotton blazer by Shades of Grey by Micah Cohen, oxford button-down by American Apparel, wool tie by BDG, corduroy pants by rag & bone.

Or a camel blazer that looks sick with a nice pair of olive chinos, dark-wash denim and charcoal slacks.

Above: Shrunken wool-blend blazer by Billtornade, thrifted camel feather suede blazer by Lanvin, cotton navy military jacket by J.Crew.

Or, throw a curveball:

A well-loved leather bomber, a nice wool coat or a cotton hunting jacket.

Above: Thrifted brown leather bomber jacket, 14.5 selvedge "Henley" denim by Baldwin Denim, mustard suede derbys by 1901.

On Oliver: Selvedge denim, black wool "University" jacket, navy grandpa cardigan, grey chambray button-down and wool plaid tie—all by J.Crew.

On Jeff: Thrifted cotton hunting jacket by J.Crew, fire-red down sweater by Patagonia, 14.5 oz selvedge "Henley denim by Baldwin Denim.

Whatever your pick, wear it. A third piece is always nice to have and surely ties the outfit together.

ETIQUETTE: Compliments

A man should know how to compliment a woman's appearance. But ask the nearest lady, and she'll tell you that when it does happen, it too often sounds like an oafish come-on. It shouldn't need to be said—but we will anyway—that focusing all the attention on her sexuality is out of line. The art of the compliment is not a free pass to get suggestive; it's an opportunity to make her feel great about herself. Here's how:

Say it right away. This particular brand of admiration is appearance-based. So as soon as you see her, tell her how lovely she is. Wait too long, and it'll seem like you're searching for something to say.

Don't use a 5-cent word. Avoid anything even remotely similar to hot, sexy, smoking, etc. Don't make her feel like a piece of meat. At worst, it's offensive; at best, it displays a glaring lack of creativity. Women are objectified enough as it is. Be the exception. And for God's sake, don't say she looks "nice." It's like telling a guy he's "cute"—the most mediocre praise.

Don't use a 50-cent word. Steer clear of words like ravishing. Beyond the term's sometimes vulgar connotation, it's also a measure of grandiloquence that's probably best reserved for your poetic efforts. Instead, opt for something simple yet charming. Beautiful, lovely, glowing, wonderful, stunning, gorgeous, and terrific are all appropriate; pick one that feels natural.

Be specific. The essence is in the details. Mention what catches your eye. Then say why you noticed it. Nicole and Jena from The Style Tribe are brilliant examples.

Nicole, that belt looks terrific. The dog-head buckle is so unique; it reminds me of the labrador retrievers my family had.

Love your bag, Jena. It's classy and low-profile, but you can see how well-made and detailed it is. How long have you had it?

Similar rules apply for the dudes: Make it sincere, and be specific. "That sweater/those wingtips/that tie looks great. I've been looking all over the place for something like that. Where did you get it?"

He feels affirmed; you now know where to pick up some new digs.

Mean it. Don't flatter for flattery's sake. Be sincere the first time, and you won't have to repeat yourself to seem genuine. And if you find yourself not noticing things things, work on becoming the kind of guy who pays attention.

Immediate, clear and heartfelt. Then leave it at that.

Photos: Maureen O'Hara and Marlon Brando (used under the Creative Commons license) from Flickr user slightlyterrific. Nicole and Jena from The Style Tribe. Cam, Jeff and Seth by us.