Zack:I actually had a friend who sort of looked and dressed like this guy. His beard was to human scale, of course, but he was a huge communist. The kind of guy who would silk screen hammers and sickles where the stars go on an American flag.

Dr. Thorpe:This guy looks like he got up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe it's because he's a biker who's been dressed from The Gap and forced to walk down a runway by terrifying Fu Manchu women. I'm almost taken aback by how normal his clothes look. This isn't the Etro I've come to love. I guess, aside from the speckly pants, the beard is the fashion in this one.

Zack:Did Etro design the beard or is there a beardery where he just bought all of these off-the-shelf?

Dr. Thorpe:Maybe Etro's just branching out into the facewig business and this is their big exciting premiere.

Zack:He's just hedging his bets. If the fashion career falls through he's got the giant beards to fall back on.

Dr. Thorpe:I have this fantasy that the beard is fake but the mustache is real. Because it makes me like the model more if he has a gigantic black mustache.

Zack:It's almost a Magnum P.I. mustache. I bet this guy could really solve some amazing crimes in Hawaii. Just put him in a Ferrari, Etro could be his Higgins/Robin Masters, and he could have all of these flashbacks to the time he was eating at a Vietnamese restaurant and his huge black friend TLC started choking on spring rolls.

Dr. Thorpe:I think the next big avenue in fashion design should be "ridiculous disguise chic." There's something inherently sexy about a disguise. It makes you feel like a secret agent. I think the giant fake beards are moving in this direction. Next it's going to be big aviator sunglasses, trench coats, and newspapers with eye-holes in them.

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About This Column

Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.

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