Gentlemen of Bacongo
by Daniele Tamagni
[Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes, or the Society of Tastemakers and Elegant People. ]
Paradox, juxtaposition, oxymoron's, contradiction's. Pure fucking abundance of style surrounded by the starving shit pile of wrappers from greed.
Every gentleman holds their moral fiber upmost as elegance and style is La Sapeurs religion and theirs is a sacrifice for God. The fabrics are to die for, quite literally. After all, Sapeurs are part man, part gods of fashion and that may mean one must starve a little for Armani.
How can such disparity look so good?