Even the Devil himself has to look presentable on occasion. You can’t go barging into an interview wearing a tank with a stoned eyeball against a background of herbal remedies. Well, I mean you could do that, but good luck getting that job as head financial analyst at JP Morgan. You got the brains, kid, but not the style. And what’re you gonna do when you gotta party-hop in the Hamptons? How you gonna look like you know what you’re doin’ on a sailboat when you’re reppin’ a tank with a skeletal cyclops that says “Kill With Power”? You’re in between a rock and a hard place when you gotta get debonair. You don’t wanna square it up and look like a Dockers jockey, but you also don’t wanna look like you just rolled out of your ex’s best friend’s apartment; smelling like sex in a jersey labeled ‘Death’.
You’re in luck, because once again, we’ve got you covered with tri-color polos; subtly morbid bone-patterned button-ups; and snapbacks with with a more refined, reserved, aesthetic. You’ve still got a dark-side and a grudge against the universe, but you gotta fool some lames on occasion. You’re still not allowed to pop the collar, though.
Not even once.- CrimeZone20xx