Hendaye - Colonial look

Off I go

Today was my last day at work before going on vacations. Tomorrow I will be smiling like these two danish girls... See you!

Did I ever mention I've got a crush on striped shirts?

Flower power

Some travellers just prefer light colours

Aninhas

(I was crazy about publishing a post in which I could have a portrait of motherhood even before it occurs, I just didn’t expect such a young or beautiful mom) But I didn’t need to tell her this to make her smile and there was no need to ask her to put her hands around her belly to do so.

I show some photos to my sister with the same excitement with which, until very recently ago, before an important date, I was in her room to ask "do I look fine?” My sister recognized Aninhas, she did her the only single braid that she had in her hair. And she answered to me:

- Yes, you look fine…you look just fine

100 posts and counting – Clear blues rectangles over gray background

My first friend to have a blog started it 5 years ago. “Since July 16th 2004” can be read at the top, even before his playlist, his Twitters updates and other mini-applications available by Blogger. The other day I saw a blog that celebrated its 2.000.000 million visit. Anyway… everyone has its stage, and mine, 6 months of existence and 100 posts are reasons more than enough to be celebrated here. I say this because my life changed a bit. For anyone who spends the days sitting in an office with enough natural light to stop complaining about his life, that answers phone in a standardized way and acts in the way that best combines his own will and what the entity that rewards him expects, this blog represents a strong contrast. Approaching all these different people allows me to experience moments that all the social conventions from our life would hardly make it possible. And then, more than mine, The Lisbon Taylor… is me. That’s probably why I feel so personal about everything people write me: each critic, complement or simple warning touch me as if they talked about me, my hair, my integrity or lack of it.

It seems fair that I leave here a few acknowledgements. I should admit that it (still) is more fun for me to write for 1000 or 2000 people that for 100 or 200, to know that people liked my pictures and my writings and a number of parallel statements that, I believe, resume the feedback I get from comments, Facebook or e-mail. First of all, two fraternal thanks. The first one goes to Mário Fazendas, for his brilliant translations, that as you will see later have brought me great joys. Going through The Lisbon Taylor, the criteria is pretty simple. The translations that impress you the most are from Mário, and the ones that have at least half a dozen mistakes have been made by a consortium between me and Google Translator. To another good friend of mine, Rui Quinta, among other things, I thank him for the nicest business cards I have ever seen (capable of making Christian Bale in American Psycho sweat like hell), making it possible for the people I approach on the streets not to think of me as a disturbed guy kindly asking them to be a part of his blog.

I would also like to thank Time Out, TVI 24, SIC Mulher, This Is Our Thing, to Sancha Trindade and the coverage on Meia Hora and Time Out again (the hand that first feeds you is always the one you’ll never forget) for, in such distinct ways and through different resources, having shown a genuine interest and contributing for the revelation of the Taylor. Not forgetting all of those that were creating links and publishing posts about The Lisbon Taylor on their blogs. I would also like to thank Fashion Real Street Star and Shopping & Shopper for allowing me to find out that “global village” is not only a mere theoretical concept. I give special emphasis to the 3 monthly pages that Shopping & Shopper (a bilingual magazine, based in Beijing) plans to save for my work, in what was, up until now, the most striking proposition I’ve ever received. But more important, I’d like to thank to all of those that visit me regularly, especially those that are telling what they feel; and more than anything and anyone I’ve mentioned, to those that are pictured here, because without them… there wouldn’t be a Taylor.

All I have to do now is to dedicate a few words to the picture of the day. However, today exceptionally, this blog is more important than its guest. I can only say that, some day, the author of this all would have to be in the same place as were the ones he comes across with. The photo is from João Vieira.

Two sides of a same elegance

Dress in black and having almost 6,5 feet tall are definitely a good help but I still think there is something more about his elegance..

La Chemise Lacoste – my father's legacy

I think my dad has always been there for me more than most dads can be. Today still… as I’m about to get into my 30’s, he’s still the person with whom I’ve spent more hours holding hands, the one I went to the cinema with more often, and probably, with whom I’ve stayed longer watching a Lacoste window. I grew up watching my dad using and abusing that Crocodile and I still recall the day that, in the middle of Downtown, we bought my first polo shirt.

“You never really own a Patek Phillippe, you merely take care of it for the next generation.” This is probably the nicest advertising slogan I know. Let truth be told, something that is good for a luxury watch will hardly apply to a piece of clothing. But in my group of friends, I’m not the only one having the privilege of wearing a Lacoste polo shirt that has already belonged to their mother or father. And I just can’t remember another kind of cotton piece that can be washed 20 times each summer and can still hold on to the same rhythm for 30 more years. But I’ll go further, just a little bit further…

Since my teens, I’ve lost my fixation for brands and, above all, for the exhibition of its most distinctive elements. But there is one of those elements that has always resisted to my maturation – the Crocodile. I’ve never told this to anyone but I have a pair of corduroy trousers with the Crocodile stitched on, and when I wear them, every time I pass by a mirror, I always make sure that the pullover I’m wearing doesn’t hide my dear Crocodile. I don’t do it for the status (besides…the Crocodile can be found in a promenade in Saint-Tropez just as it can be seen on the toughest neighbourhoods in the outskirts of Paris); I do it because of a certain je ne sais quoi that I can’t find in me without it (after all, isn’t this the main goal of Marketing? Designing products with such attributes with which the consumer can feel identified?) For some reason, Lacoste is the most counterfeited brand in the whole world. For some reason, I wore those trousers on my first date with my girlfriend.

I still remember the satisfaction of carrying the bag – “no Dad, let me take it!” – with the white Polo shirt, just imagining how it would look on me the next day. Only now I start to realise that the first years of our lives are the most important. And only now, that my hair is starting to fall and what’s left of it is starting to have white shades, I go back to those days when the father figure is our hero and I understand that, like it or not, for good or for evil, that story about primary socialization (give or take) is really like this – it marks us forever.

The other day a friend told me that one of the things that led him to study Arts was his mother’s impressive talent for drawing. I didn’t tell him, but I’ve noticed that I’d never heard him talk about his mother legacy with such pride. Me and Rui, we have the same age, we’ve studied in the same school and we’ve fought for the attention of the same cute teacher (of the same school)… it doesn’t intrigue me that now we look over our shoulders the same way. For all of this and something more, it will be no surprise that even before my son can wear that red polo shirt you see in the picture, his mother, right in the middle of her pregnancy, will indulge me by wearing one of those beautiful piquet dresses, almost as timeless as the famous Polo 1212. Fetish? Maybe. Father legacy? Definitely. Marketing credit? Hell no… it’s Lacoste.

The Nailhead suit pattern - Queluz National Palace

The nailhead is a classic pattern that causes a geometric effect similar to a repetition of an head of a nail. Very common in gray or blue, this pattern is probably one of the best choices for those who, after 2 or 3 different plain suits, would like to have a different suit from the others, but do not feel comfortable to use (or simply do not like) listed or chequers suits.

When, 2 months ago, I wrote that the gray suit would be possibly my 2nd choice (after the dark blue and before the 1st chequers jacket) I was specifically imagining this nailhead light gray suit, ideal in a warm and sunny day

Harlem 1981, Lisbon 2009

Yesterday, a few hours before finding Edson, I had been trying to put into order the boxes and drawers that make up the usual mess of my room. I found a suitcase bursting with VHSs with some movies and series. There was a tape labelled as Hill Street Blues. The music grew on me immediately and I decided to rescue the old video.

I don’t know if in another day I would have stopped to address Edson. Maybe yes. maybe not. Yesterday I didn’t hesitate. The revival move me, Edson took me back.

Carolina and her colours

A Frenchman in Lisbon - sober black

White jacket & white hat

White jacket is not something that many men feel comfortable to wear. White hat is not something that many men feel comfortable in using. But there are still some men that don’t seem to feel uncomfortable in using both, and if possible, at the same time

Fashion & Countryside

Day by day we’re more heedful and respectful to countryside. And that works to fashion as well. There are much more garments or accessories that we “steal” from countryside than we can imagine…

Speaking about stripes..

..I will always love blue & white

Stripes & stripes

Ericeira - Mr. Nicolau

After taking the photo I came to the conclusion that we all noticed Mr Nicholas the moment we arrived to the beach. This wonderful mix between Hemingway and the Latin man who makes the delights of women from Northern Europe wouldn’t be easy to ignore. In this portrait...the eternal Lacoste Polo-shirt he’s wearing is just a small detail

Lisbon Downtown - While she waits for a friend

Indiana

Cool hipnoise

The lovely contrast between glasses and tattoos

I always thought that a good balance of contrasts was the halfway stage to a beautiful scenario. I always remember Francisco, an huge mulatto that lived in the neighbourhood that used to wear impeccable linen suits or the baby face punk I used to see in the subway in my way to school. The tattoos, like it more or less, are a strong image, and when they concern to men, most of times seem aggressive too. The graduated glasses, no matter some design or marketing efforts, hardly loose they’re connotation of serenity, wisdom and labour. The two together are Alexandre. Here, the Fred Perry polo-shirt – more than enough by itself to create a post – it’s just a bonus. Everything else is Alex

Fashion and motorcycles

I had to walk back a whole block, have faith that the traffic restraints on downtown would do their job and take advantage of the color of the traffic light just to take this picture. After I turned my back around I thought “this is the second picture of a motorcycle that I take, and from the Taylor you should expect it to be a blog about fashion before anything else, or at least that it inspires itself on fashion to talk about anything else.” I turned around thinking about how nice that motorcycle was and about my apparently well succeeded posts where I didn’t just stick to the sheer aesthetic analysis of the clothes of those that got photographed. I took a turn at Rua Augusta, walked in at the MUDE (Museum of Fashion and Design) and the first thing I saw represented, even before a Christian Dior coat and jacket, was a Vespa 125. Presumptuously I thought to myself:

- "Not bad, for a guy that works at a bank.”

p.s. - did you liked the scooter? click here to know more

São Paulo in Lisbon

There are 2 main reasons why I don’t publish a post everyday: the first one, I’ll talk about it some other day; the other reason is the simple fact that people have the (nice) habit of walking along with somebody else. Interrupting any conversations saying “hey, I’m going to need your friend for 30 seconds” would seem a bit rude and evocative of the ungrateful job of those whose work is to stand on the door of night clubs deciding who goes in and who goes home. Digressions aside… this lady’s husband was too good looking and charming to let himself bother by a kid that, even before addressing her, asked him if he could shoot his wife. Well, don’t get fooled, it was up to this lady from São Paulo to decide, but we all know that when it comes to the person we love the most, we all become a bit more sensitive than we would be in any other circumstance. As for the rest, her husband had as much charm as he had good looks. It’s fun to take pictures like these.

Letter to Manel (Uniforms and Identities)

Dear Manel,
Some have the capability of intimidating others just for their presence, some have the ability of stopping traffic just for their walk and some have the virtue of never letting themselves be extinguished by what they’re wearing. When we’re wearing a uniform, we always loose a bit of ourselves for the piece of garment we wear. I’ve always felt a little bit less me every time I had to wear one. As you can imagine, for a guy that thought about doing a blog about rags, wearing the rags he didn’t choose can be particularly itchy. But you, Manel, you simply said to me “Sure you can shoot, I’m just doing my job”.
You sure were, Manel. And everybody looking at you could realize that if you wore a tuxedo for an evening out or bathing shorts on the beach, they would always see you. But me, I seem to pass through a multiplicity of egos when I go between coat and tie from Monday to Friday, and a baseball cap and a tank top shirt on the weekends. “Sure you can shoot, I’m just doing my job”. Yes you are, Manel, but all I’m asking is for you to give a 10 minute tolerance to that car and to forgive me for taking the “u” off from “Manuel”. I can assure you that I’m doing it with the same simplicity for who (sometimes) it’s hard not to introduce myself as “Zé”, instead of “José”, during work time. I have to go now. By 9 o’clock I have to be José again.
Best regards,
Zé

The Beauty of Fatherhood

My last memory of Ricardo has 13 or 14 years. We were both wearing tight pants doing Capoeira. Me, on the climax of my (pre) teens, and Ricardo, I suspect, on his first manhood years.
Times have changed. Ricardo seemed more good looking and happier. We can only blame Graça, Jorge and Rosa and their beautiful white hats. When I first started The Lisbon Taylor, it never crossed my mind to get a picture like this. Its beauty can turn a picture of a beautiful lady wearing an evening gown with a low neckline into something ordinary. Besides, I can’t think of anything sexier than these marsupial adornments.
PS: Interesting people create interesting projects. This couple opened up a store recently. I enjoyed it and (more important) Time Out also did. At Calçada do Carmo, 26-28.

Maria - shorts and half-boots

There are people that don't match up to our expectations. There are others, however, that what you see is what you get. That applies to Maria. So beautiful and so pleasant

My first turban

If you ask me for an exotic destination, the first country that comes into my mind is India. Besides, I have a hyper-romantic conception of the Indian woman and every time I think about its male version it always occurs to me that scene from The English Patient where the character played by Juliette Binoche starts drooling about Naveen Andrews (Lieutenant Kip Singh) washing his hair after we’d seen him carefully taking off his turban.

Some of the photos that show up here are concepts that I had previously designed in my mind and just waited for the right opportunity to materialize. The turban was exactly on of them. I must admit it was the turban that took me to Martim Moniz. This part of Lisbon and the idea about it that the people from Lisbon have sends me back to everything we cheer about London, New York and all of those big cities that serve as paradigms for the “melting pots” and the “multiracial societies”. The truth is that we tend to appreciate these sociological concepts better if they’re several thousands of miles away from our homes. This is just my own personal confession…

This all came to my mind the moment I walked away from Balbir Singh. I just never would have thought that his last name would be the same as the movie character responsible for my charming vision of the Indian man.

Smells like Summer

The Gentleman - lilac mood

Tropical Lisbon

I can’t think of any other European capital where sea diving and History can get along so well as in Lisbon. I can imagine, for example, that for those that live somewhere between the English Channel and the North Sea, the idea of being able to go to the beach in March or October can seem… tropical. Our Portuguese judgement tells us that anyone that loves a shirt like these should keep them religiously destined for a beach party or a vacation in the Pacific, but go and tell that to those that only have 1500 hours of sunshine per year.

Rossio train station - bohemian vintage

I’d read somewhere about a Titanic exhibition in Lisbon. The idea didn’t got stuck into my mind, but when I walked by the Rossio train station, I thought this was a good excuse to see the old (but renovated) station. Too bad the price of the tickets didn’t quite fit into my concept of killing time waiting for my lunch company to arrive. I turned my back to the shipwreck and faced Gonçalo. Well, the rest of the story, you already know…

Conference about style

Apparently these two gents were coordinating a fashion production right in the centre of Lisbon. For some reason I can’t explain I’ve found them a more interesting concept to work with than the model. I have to admit she was probably 7 years younger and 3 centimetres taller than me. Even so...

São Saturnino - green over green

An English lady at Guincho

How wonderful to see the effect that a single accessory can have on the whole.

4 ways to use your head

Chequers and coincidences

I’ve realised some months ago, reading a fashion editorial in Men’sHealth, that chequers are back for good. It reminded me of the shirt I (probably) took to a Pearl Jam concert in 96 and it made me realise that I’m not that immune to fashion tendencies as much as I would like to think I am. We’re done about chequers.

I like coincidences. They don’t leave me wondering about the good or bad energy of the universe, but I find them amusing. These two fellows are German. In 5 days, I’ve found them in two different places of the city. Ok, they’re designers, they’re here for the OFFF, but it’s still a funny coincidence. The thing is that I really enjoyed talking with these guys. More than a photoblog or a fashionblog, this is a peopleblog. Without nice people like these two guys The Lisbon Tailor wouldn’t have survived for more than two weeks.

The day Terreiro do Paço stood still

I heard a horn. Drivers never tended to go crazy about me walking on crosswalks, but I turned around by instinct. I saw two police agents, gazing, the same agents that had just missed two blatant proposals to get cocaine (from there to Rossio, the rule is the same: just as long as you don’t try to offer “dope” to the gentlemen in the uniforms, everything will go on just fine). The way they elbowed themselves reminded me of how we used to do it, in our pre-teens, every time we saw Mariana Cardoso, a girl from our school, walking in front of us. I held the camera firmly and took the shot. Some may like it, others may not… But the fact is Terreiro do Paço stood still.

Encore

“I just don’t know how you could not shoot him again”, my girlfriend said when, one day, going up the avenue, we found him walking the dog. That’s more or less the feeling I get every time I come across Luis. When he told me he was going to Paris in June, I couldn’t resist and suggested him “Until then, every time we meet I’ll take you a picture”. Here’s his answer. I win, you win and the Taylor wins. And I hope Luis wins too.