Jack is my Mr. Darcy, even though I don’t think I am exactly what he is looking for. I am crazy about his tuxedo tucked into the his Frye boots with his sheer shirt flying in the wind, topped off with his knit cap that makes him indisputably the Mr. Darcy of 2009. Jack is into clothing that is screaming “character and punch,” and he has a deep lineage of family support behind his bordering on ecstatic passion for clothing as self-expression. He has a drop-dead prep school jacket from when his grandfather was in high school in Ireland in 1930 that Jack wears his way, with bright green long underwear. Jack has wanted anything Versace from the age of 5 and would beg for it. He once made a cab driver stop on the way to the airport in 4th grade when he and his family passed a Versus boutique in Vancouver. His mom said “over my dead body” (about a high price tag), and then surprised him later on with one of his designer idol’s blazers of color and sequins for his prom. Jack’s animation peaks when talking about how his dad got him his first pair of multi-colored sneakers, his father proudly beaming “that’s Jack, so him.” He grew up in a large Irish family with an older sister who has been his muse and greatest inspiration. She is a doctor and belly dancer and to him, the most beautiful woman in the world. Jack’s sister’s proudest moment was seeing him walk down the runway in her vintage Saks Fifth Avenue sequined blazer. He is so free and fluid in his thinking that he is lately loving looking at people who are “out of style,” the ones that are not possessed by the industry of “fashion.” I love the originality of this idea. A frenzy of free spirit and positive energy, Barbie might have been his best friend growing up, but Jack’s the blonde magnet now.