Five modern male fashion tribes

Categories Fashion

Our own attempt at describing five modern male fashion groups.

New York style guru Simon Doonan categorises the men of 2016 into five fashion tribes: the Perverse Prepster (quirky blend of preppy with hipster), the Statham (rough around the edges, just like the British tough guy), the Arty Ninja (samurai meets hip-hop), the Dedicated Follower of Satin (rock glam), and the Schlub (think Seth Rogan).

Which Fashion Tribe Do You Belong To?

Don’t see where you fit? Maybe you’ll recognise yourself in one of Men’s Style’s five modern male fashion tribes . . .


Think oversized everything — T-shirts that look like repurposed circus tents, trousers with the seat-of-the-pants so low its scraping along the footpath, trainers so bulky they dwarf the boots Neil Armstrong wore to the moon in 1969. The hipster possesses a wardrobe that looks like it was cryogenically frozen in 1991 and got warped when it thawed out.


Young Corporate Warrior

The type of bloke who keeps a picture of Harvey Specter in his wallet, the YCW wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything other than a bespoke three-piece suit that cost him a month’s wages. His facial hair — immaculately conditioned with $300-a-bottle beard oil — would make you think he’s an out-of-work musician if you didn’t know he earned six figures in mergers and acquisitions.


Rock Dog

Nudie jeans, leather jacket, stretched tee, jet-black Chelsea boots — inspired by Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan, the Rock Dog isn’t afraid to shop in the women’s section to produce a outfit that’s edgy yet still indisputably masculine. Can wear facial hair and flannel non-ironically, and don’t forget leather. Lots and lots and lots of leather.


The Peacock

There’s no playbook for the Peacock, who’d wear a tartan onesie or a green corduroy shirt or a fluorescent pink blazer if it attracted another set of eyeballs. Lady Gaga’s masculine spirit animal, this is the type of man who’d dust off Gaga’s old meat outfit if it equated to a few likes on Instagram.


Drop out

A dying breed that makes the rest of us look good — the bloke wearing jeans and joggers with a tomato sauce stain on his moth-bitten Mambo T-shirt, the bloke who’s hair hasn’t touched a pair of scissors since Billy Ray Cyrus was on top of the charts, the bloke whose wardrobe doesn’t discriminate between pyjamas and formalwear. Rest in Peace, drop outs.