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I am wondering if Cary was a supermodel in his mind when he was piling on beaded bracelets to his elbow in day camp, even before his supermodel hair. I would have no doubt been as inspired by his boundless aesthetic then as I am now. I love that Cary finds it amusing to be mistaken for a girl from the back, and I find it hard to believe that most men and women wouldn’t die, in their deepest truths, to have Cary’s hair, sense of ecstasy over a heel, and freedom within themselves to manifest their most current character for the day (whatever that may be). I have no idea where these clothing phobias begin and end and who created them, but what’s scary is that we all follow without questioning, and why? So that men can remain trapped and in a mass of nondescript khaki pants and Crocs?
If you like Cary, you might also enjoy Paul Alexander, Leo Cerezo, or Sonny Groo.
