The beret… He wears it well

I must confess that I have a certain fascination about these berets. Perhaps because they remind me of British men. Perhaps because they remind me of the men from Alentejo. The first is a fascination from childhood - that I still feel when I walk the streets of London – that reminds me of check patterns, that delicious accent and the knowledge that the true gentleman… is the British gentleman. Like the childish fascination about Roger Moore, like the admiration I have of Gary Lineker [that in his whole career wasn’t given a single yellow card (how is that possible??!)] proving that even when it comes to football that island is not only made of aggressive savages (by the way… take a look at these guys…). The second is an obvious consequence of my family origins in Alentejo and of the regular presence of a group of friends of my parents proud in showing an accent that some have lost and others never had. Imagine one of those ads in the British countryside, in a very typical pub where a group of friends is singing chants and treating each other as mates as their faces become more and more flushed. That’s what more or less happens in my parents house but with an Alentejo flavor.

I’m particularly pleased by seeing young men with these berets. And if they didn’t look silly on me I’d wear them everyday. I like these berets so much that a year ago I had already posted, A man and his beret. I leave you with the concept of crossing urban street wear with a rural accessory. A fully customized man.