The thought of wearing sandals fills a lot of men with anxiety. But from the runways of Paris and Milan to the streets of New York—and, if it hasn't happened already, your town too—this is shaping up to be the Summer of the (Men's) Sandal. So what's a guy to do? Embrace it! We put together this comprehensive guide to the art of wearing sandals so the whole enterprise feels less stressful and more, well, fun. Give it a read, pick the pair that suits your style, and let your toes breathe—no anxiety required. – Jonathan Evans, style director Plus: |
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It's the Summer of the Men's Sandal. If you're going to bare your toes, you need to read this first. |
Naked toes. In public. The very thought of it makes some guys shudder. Others have a more laissez-faire attitude toward the issue. And others still are full-blown enthusiasts, ready and raring to let their dogs out as soon as the weather gets warm. Is it any wonder that the sandals question—how to wear them, where to wear them, whether to wear them at all—is one of the most hotly debated topics in the world of menswear? As we said earlier this summer on the topic of shorts, it's too damn hot to abide by some self-imposed restriction and suffer because of it. If you prefer shoes, go forth and be happy. But if you're in the mood to let your little piggies see the sunlight this summer, you've come to the right place. |
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The aptly-titled The Fantastic Four: First Steps marks the MCU debut of its title heroes, who were prized IP previously lost in the abyss of 20th Century Fox. Disney's seismic acquisition of the rival studio means Mr. Fantastic and co. can now kick it with the Avengers. But the self-contained and mostly put-together First Steps is a baby step to a brighter future—or at least one hopes—and it gets off on the right foot. Made by formula but executed with vision, The Fantastic Four: First Steps is steadfast in its mission priority: remind audiences who Marvel's cobalt quartet are—again—before the bigger crossovers. |
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When my son Sam was seven or eight years old, he spent a good bit of time on weekends upside down on a floral-print armchair in our living room. In one hand, he held Batman; in the other, Robin. Surely the Joker lurked nearby. I would be sitting on the couch a few feet away, legal pad in my lap, writing. I'm a magazine journalist. Sam and I could stay locked in our spots for hours at a time. I was sure he was happy as could be, in the land of escape, good guys winning over bad. What I saw then was a boy thrusting away, Batman taking control, Robin providing support, in need of nothing from me—or so I thought. Which gave me license to stay right there, locked in my own mind. Sam had no interest in eating or looking out at the day or even taking a pee. Come to think of it, I didn't bother with those things either—I was working. He seemed fine. Though it was quite the opposite of that. |
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