Sweater Vests: Not Just For Douchebags Anymore

So this guy's walking down the street and you can tell that he's feeling great about himself. He's got his docker stain-resistant khakis on, pleated to absolute perfection, and he's probably wearing a pair of expensive aviators (everyone wears those fucking things these days). At first his attire doesn't anger you that much, it's more just the arrogant nature that you can see when he's walking down the street with his light leather jacket slung over his shoulder and being gripped by two of his fingers. He might have a toothpick in his mouth, too. But none of these things truly piss you off. It's something else. The man is wearing a button-up oxford, with the collar--more often than not on these people--popped. You might tap your friend on the shoulder and say something like "Hey, too bad I don't have my shirt on right now that has the mom putting her little boy's shirt collar down and saying 'remember, Billy, only retards pop their collars.'" Then the deal is sealed. You notice that over top of his button-up shirt he is boldly wearing the most debated and feared male fashion item since the cowboy boot:

The sweater vest!!

It's at this time that the rest of his stupid style products cease to exist, at least in your eyes. You take consolation in knowing that this man wearing the sweater vest will absolutely, no matter what, ever get laid by anyone that is more attractive than a New Zealand goat.

You laugh it off, and then don't think about it again until it's too late.

By too late I mean, in my case, whenever I flipped open an issue of Rolling Stone about a week ago. I was leafing through the 2957 adds at the beginning of the issue, looking for the always elusive table of fucking contents, just trying to find out what stupid ass politically misled thing Green day was cooking up that week so that I can make fun of them on my lackluster internet blog.

I get to the usual GAP advertisements, which always include celebrities wearing their clothes and staring at the camera like they would pay to blow you and then do your dishes and clean your apartment afterwards. The first person I saw was a man, and I didn't recognize him. He was defined as a clothing designer. I figured he was no role model of mine, since I can't even match my clothes, let alone design ones that make people look as though they fought in Vietnam and then rolled around on a fresh Andy Warhol painting. I flipped to the next add and see John Legend or some shit and think that I don't want to be a little soulful whiny dude banging away on my piano, even if it would gain the respect of Elton John.

I flipped to the final page of the add and discovered that John Mayer was now advertising for the GAP, and he was wearing a pair of jeans along with a sweater vest. That was it. No shirt underneath, just a striped sweater vest, with the guns flying. I was initially pissed because I had to immediately pay two more dollars on top of the original subscription price because I had viewed the gun show, but before long I was distracted by other thoughts. They started with two words: Jessica Simpson.

It's no secret that Mayer, the new age guitar god, put it to Daisy Duke. It's also not a secret that 98 percent of straight men in the United States envy him for doing so (the other two percent are those friends that we all have who for some stupid ass reason think that their girlfriend is the most beautiful being in all of the world and have no desire for anything better, even though their girlfriend has an ass the size of the Lusitania). The thing about Mayer is that I never really understood how he bagged one of the most coveted women in recent history (though I also don't understand how Cash Warren got Jessica Alba, or why The Hills is considered a good tv show, but the world is a confusing place), because he never struck me as a really "cool" guy. I mean, I once saw an interview with him with Matt Pinfield where he just kept talking about the blues and making sounds with his mouth that were supposed to resemble musical notes. He played the air guitar while doing so. I just assumed that it was his incredible guitar skills, since he is known as the next Eric Clapton and what not, or that he has some lyrics that will make the panties drop, but I was kind of skeptical of this since Jessica Simpson is something like a goddess. She would only fall for boyband types with muscles and music videos with the Doritos girl. She was nearly invisible.

I finally discovered that it was none of his talents except for one: his ability to dress. It had all become clear to me, finally. The sweater vest was the key to entrance into the atmosphere of the most beautiful women in the universe. I was beginning to think that if I wore a sweater vest, Marilyn Monroe would come back from the dead to toss my salad while Penelope Cruz filmed it and Jessica Biel fixed me a bologna sandwich for afterwards.

Let it be noted that I said I was "beginning to think," not that I was "totally convinced," though I now am. Today I was sitting in my meteorology class when I happened to take a sidelong glance at a guy sitting ahead and to the left of me; northwest, if you will. He had a gray and black striped sweater vest on, and for the first time in my life I didn't think, "Oh, this guy's a fuck. He should be on Dawson's Creek." Instead I thought, "Hey, that doesn't really look that bad at all. I might actually wear something like that."

Sure enough, as soon as we walked out of class this suave individual swept a broad on a level of sexyness that I have only been familiar with through internet downloads. They did the jump, hug, and kiss straight out of The Notebook, and she was almost as hot as Rachel McAdams. Okay, maybe not that hot, but I wouldn't have thrown her out of bed for eating Pringles.

So, I'm making a declaration: sweater vests are not just for douchebags anymore. When used sparingly and tastefully, they can be the most powerful weapon a man can wield. Starting today, I'm going to have to say that the sweater vest is cool. So start pumping that iron, baby, because they don't cover the arms.


Postscript: Everything I have said in this article is null and void. I own two sweater vests, and I have owned them for over two years. They are argyle. I am a douchebag.