Life Lessons You Can Learn From the Worst Dressed City in the UK

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In this post Purple Haze world we're past the point of pink being a style risk for men, as well we should be. Look at this lord, throwing off what would've been a pretty basic outfit with kicks that look like novelty Pink Panther house slippers. See how the ladies respect his fearlessness?

No one needs reminding that plumber chic is never the way to go but damn, there's so much struggle in this pic. From that unsightly crevasse down to the—are they briefs or boxers? Answer: swagless nonetheless.

Of course, going too far in the other direction to prevent such embarrassment yields bad results as well. The crackhead's friend appears to be puking in his Halal carton (because let's assume the UK late-night postgame food spots are the same as New York City just for fun) but was failing already because his shirt is tucked in his pants like an herb ass substitute teacher. No wonder why these two are going home alone.

Apparently dressing like you're headed to a throwback-themed rap battle or en route to stick up whatever unlucky corner store is still open is how you get the ladies under pressure after they've witnessed a cavalcade of poorly dressed dudes in the club.

What else could explain how these two pasty, androgynous fellows executed this extremely out-of-league pull? Unless the real secret is the strong There's Something About Mary gelled look...

You might say, "Why not just put the heels back on if you have to resort to Dunkin Donuts bags to protect your feet?" But, have you ever worn heels, breh? We know not the torment they endure to look good. Let her cook.

You'll be thankful if you find yourself in a potential pants-ruining situation by night's end. What's a pants ruining situation, you ask? Exibit A...

There was probably zero attention paid to the homie's backside jeans pattern in the dark bar he tried to floss in. But you can't show up to show out and go home without getting your props. Hence dude taking a leak in the most obvious corner if you can even call it that, because apparently people in Cardiff don't get popped for being drunk and disorderly. And FLEX THE ALPHET BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY.

Trying not to ruin your threads on a night out can be as stressful as protecting the president sometimes and that in turn saps the fun you're supposed to be having. At a certain point, after that seventh shot, you just have to give up and let whatever happens, happen. Need to pass out? Just accept that L and choose a nice comfy bed of garbage over the cold hard street and say your dry cleaner prayers in the a.m.

Normally women would be bouncing off the force field this guy is projecting, with his jeans that look like he made the rips by crawling around on the street for a few hours. But what's he got that the #sadboy holding up the wall does not? The chicken, b. Suddenly she's fixing the lip gloss, maybe with a hair twirl to follow and ignoring the fact that her little brother has the same shirt from Gap kids.

No cuffed, tailored sweats? No problem. Nap time anytime, anywhere like fuck a cab ride home.

Remember back in the day when Saturday morning cartoons were poppin but your parents wouldn't let you hit the block or go to school in your hero of choice's signature costume? This guy does and he's fed up.

Sure, a couple of other photos imply some kind of superhero night, but this guy stands out, like the night was about more than dressing up like Captain America with a douchey faux six-pack to scheme on chicks. He's striding down dark dangerous alleys upholding truth and justice and the American way. And proving once and for all that Superman is the most swagless of superheroes.

This chap, striking a pose even Naomi Campbell couldn't pull off in her dreams, is fearlessness personified. Respect the flourish.

The boldest, most bout-that-life execution of the "ain't fun if the homies can't have none" platitude of all time.

This man with a capital 'M' is probably the most stylish motherfucker in all of Dakowicz's photos. Why? Because he's striding through the streets head held high despite a bloody nose, flossing like he ripped his shirt open on purpose. The only thing that's missing is an explosion in the background for him to nonchalantly ignore.