GQ had its heart in the right place, but missed the mark

Dear GQ Magazine,

I can’t deny it — I, too, regularly experience moments of… Dear GQ Magazine,

I can’t deny it — I, too, regularly experience moments of schadenfreude that come with Steel City inhabitants’ fashion choices.

(In case you’ve never taken German or seen “Avenue Q,” schadenfreude refers to feeling pleasure at the misfortune of others. And before you get too self-righteous, if you chuckled at that YouTube video of the texter falling into a mall fountain, you’re just as bad.)

As you likely already know, Pittsburgh is a veritable buffet of bad fashion choices — the pseudo-mullets, the high-elastic-waisted jeans, the ’80s style that has been crystallized in many ’Burghers’ wardrobes like a fly in amber.

So when you rated Pittsburgh as the third-worst-dressed city in America, my first thought was — well, my first thought was “How on earth is Cleveland more fashionable?” — but then I acknowledged my total lack of surprise.

That Pittsburgh is not a fashion epicenter is an undisputed fact. Not long ago, I saw a man walking around in a mismatched pairing of blue plaid shorts and a different kind of blue plaid shirt — and no one looked twice. So frankly, I see your point. Still, something irked me about your commentary, GQ.

The criticisms weren’t making cracks at women wearing their voluminous permed coiffures like peacocks, or at men sporting brilliant white New Balance sneakers with their pleated, wrinkle-free khakis. They were mocking the waves of black and gold that inundate the Steel City every sports season — so, all the time.

This was your description: “From foot to crown the standard ensemble goes like this: high-top sneakers, preferably Converse, worn loosely tied; white tube socks; distressed jean shorts, worn long and with a sag in the keister; Pittsburgh Steelers jersey, size XXXL, preferably black; facial hair, preferably goatee or chin-strappy beard; baseball cap, preferably something in a florescent shade of camouflage or a piece that reflects a strong allegiance to a NASCAR driver.”

GQ, I bring two points to your attention.

The first is that standing in front of you was Pittsburgh’s severe lack of style, like a wounded deer hobbling slowly to a nest yards and yards away, and you managed to misfire and just graze its thick and difficult-to-penetrate hide.

You had every opportunity to mock. Did you read the above, where I brought up several crimes against style that the denizens of this fair city all-too-frequently commit? Did you once see me mention any “certain NFL franchise” as you did? No, because I have eyes, and those eyes help me see the mustachioed men rocking cutesy — true, often sports — ties and the ladies who look like streetwalkers at 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

I will give you credit, though. The “Meth Lab Formal” comment was a hilarious and totally spot-on description. But otherwise, your examples are unfortunately lacking.

As for the rest of the commentary, perhaps I should give you the benefit of the doubt and assume no one from your staff has ever set foot in Pittsburgh to witness the true beauty of the apathy toward dressing well that people here feel.

Maybe you only got information from a Google Image search. As it were, when you type “Pittsburgh” + “People” into the search engine, you get assaulted within the first few pages by photos of corpulent people sporting revealing Steelers garb — I’ll say booty shorts and leave the rest up to your imagination.

That brings me to my second point: Maybe sports jerseys are not haute couture, but damn it, there’s something to be said for spirit, isn’t there?

The most hideous outfits I have ever seen have not been black or gold — at least not with any apparent intention. In fact, I’ve had friends sport sophisticated versions of the colors, crafting cute little tops by cutting up and sewing big T-shirts or by wearing pearls and bows with their jerseys.

Okay, fine, you’re a men’s magazine, so you focused on men. Well, it takes little more than well-fitting jeans to bring together a nice outfit that includes a jersey. While saggy jorts (jean shorts) are atrocious, there are so many other heinous garments to mock here — men in uncomfortably short shorts, men in Ed Hardy-style bedazzled jeans, men in skin-tight pants.

(Side note: GQ, I also noticed you used the word “keister” in your segment, and for a presumably chic men’s magazine, that sure sounded a great deal like the unfashionable Midwestern vernacular popular around these parts.)

It’s possible you can’t fathom the kind of pride that comes with both a Stanley Cup and a Lombardi Trophy in the same year. After all, not every state can boast such excellent teams which conveniently all sport the same colors. My goodness, we even love the Pirates and they’re a pretty consistent disappointment — or so my sportier friends tell me. Forgive our loyalty, but I think it’s fair to say that it’s warranted.

So, GQ, to conclude, I’m not defending Pittsburgh’s fashion choices, I’m saying that I expected better of you. I thought that, as professionals who have come up with witty quips in the past, you would use the ample ammunition this city provides instead of blowing it all on cheap shots directed at our sports teams. Third worst dressed? In fact, people here are downright outraged that we didn’t finish in first.

You’ve barely wounded this city’s pride, and you’ve hardly countered its apathy toward decent dress. I truly hope you do better next time.

Sincerely,

Sassy Sartorialist