Missed the Memo, Found the Men

I had been away, which in my world means two things: mild disorientation and an urgent need to re-enter society wearing something that suggests I’ve always been in control.

Sunday night felt like the right moment for a comeback tour.

Apparently, the rest of the grid agreed. Just not in the same place. While I was mentally preparing for a casual club hop, everyone else had collectively decided to gather at Bryn Oh’s new installation. No one told me, which feels personal. From what I hear, there’s another event next week, so I will simply pretend I knew that all along and circle back.

Instead, I did what any well-adjusted person does when left out of a major cultural moment: I bounced around until I found a DJ I trust. Enter BARDECO. Not usually on my list, but DJ Invad3r was on, and that’s the kind of information I act on immediately, like a responsible adult.

What stuck with me wasn’t just the music, but the crowd. Or more specifically, the men.

I have heard every version of the “we have nothing to wear” speech. It’s delivered like a support group confession, and honestly, I’ve been sympathetic. The options are limited. The struggle is real. The drama is ongoing.

And yet, the crowd at BARDECO wanted to present a counterargument.

Because what I saw were men who had clearly decided to work with what they have and then push it further. Sharp, deliberate, sometimes subtle, sometimes not subtle at all, but always considered. It turns out that limitation doesn’t automatically equal mediocrity. Sometimes it just forces better decisions.

It won’t come as a suprise that I took photos.