I’ve always been unjustifiably peeved by the appropriation and re-purposing of militaria by the fashion market. Still, I can’t deny the portability of such uniforms’ inherent style, transcending their strictly practical and utilitarian origins.
My old army fatigues - their various blazons immaculately sewn, the rugged fabric pressed and ironed - were the only variety of uniform I’ve ever felt comfortable wearing without feeling like a complete reluctantly-conformist moron, which is ironic I suppose, given that the military is a tradition of almost slavering uniformity and obedience.
I’ve often related to friends how much I despise white collar work clothes and how much dress shoes, shirts, dress pants and all that other crap irritates me to no end. Firstly because such attire is ubiquitous. Secondly because its uncomfortable. Thirdly because such clothing - particularly the modern rank-and-file corporate ‘suit’ - is little more than a limp-wristed attempt to assume an identity or image power, affluence or tenacity. Anyone can wear a suit and they are a readily available social prosthesis. If you wear a suit, you can fake traits that you actually lack in reality.
Worst of all, it’s just so god-damned lazy. The suit is a generic mode of apparel with little to distinguish one from the other. Victorian suits were so much more awesome - what with all the endless variety and pomp. Want to be classy but don’t have the creativity or audacity to plan a presentable outfit? Wear a modern suit - tailor-made for the overwhelmingly homophobic heteronormative male population of the democratic West.
(Apparently making any effort to appear presentable or stylish immediately sets off the ‘metro’ alarm - the exception being a suit: the ‘safe’ bet).
The casual observer is none the wiser of the suit wearer’s actual productive capacities, and so they often take the suit at face value. A military uniform however, is so much more - literally the measure of a man (or woman). A uniform is issued, and its blazons earned. A single glance at the various decorations and devices can signify the wearer’s experiences, capabilities, authority and martial prowess.
But look, I’ve gone off on a tangent when all I meant to say was that these are some fucking awesome outfits. Or maybe the girlfriend is poisoning my mind. She has a thing for knights in armour, but seeing as that pleasure is both anachronistic and impractical, she makes do with a boyfriend hewn from the warrior caste.