Drake's is one of those companies that makes accessories that I envision myself wearing if I were just, like, two socioeconomic rungs up from my current station in life. Like, the baseline stuff would remain the same, but I'd just have a little more money in my bank account and a little more prestige in my reputation. I'd still be a freelance writer, but I'd write short stories for the Paris Review and travelogues for Lucky Peach instead of however you'd describe whatever the fuck it is I do now. I'd wear really nice 100% lambswool caps and exotic scarves and eat those eggs that are served in their eggshells with just the top cracked off. What the fuck are those eggs called? Anyways, that's the kind of egg you eat at breakfast when you drape yourself in Drake's.
Originally published on Four Pins