Nothing Fits: How Being Tall Killed My Chance to Flourish

One very tall dude explains why he can't even stunt if he wanted to.

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Image via Complex Original
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1.

If you're reading this, it probably means you're past living through the shame and self-loathing that goes along with copping basic clothes off the Internet. You're probably unfamiliar with the exquisite pain of clicking "purchase" on hundreds of dollars worth of vanilla, mass-produced product. And why wouldn't you be? You're a Complex reader who understands the value of menswear. You appreciate the freedom that goes along with living in a world with a near-infinite number of clothing choices. You know better than to buy cheap denim from an online retailer who stuffs your inbox with 40 percent off coupons every other week.

2.

You're probably also not 6'6".

3.

Being tall isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when it comes to finding the right alphet. For every woman who prefers a tall man, there's an event with a low ceiling that makes me stand uncomfortably for hours on end. For every basketball I can dunk, there's an old person who berates me for choosing to do something with my life besides playing basketball. For every suit that should thank me for being tall & lanky, there's a pair of dope jeans I'll never fit because of my 36" inseam.

4.

Shit is a hassle.

5.

Especially living in New York. As one of the billion or so New Yorkers who escaped the city from a suburban hellhole hometown, it's beyond embarrassing to have to still have the 'burbs' finest posted up in my closet. What once didn't bother me (shopping at the basic spots at the mall) is now a necessary evil, as it seems no designer or label worth their weight in denim offers pants in my size. 

6.

What makes it even worse is that I now know better. As a suburban teenager with little interest in style, copping at the Deptford Mall was the pinnacle of stunting. But now, surrounded by tastemakers and trying to survive in a workplace filled with motherfuckers who professionally stunt, having an NBA-sized inseam is killing my opportunity to flourish.

7.

And I need to flourish. I worked too hard not to. I didn't bust my ass for years to move to the capital of the world so I could show up to my buddy's South Jersey Christmas party wearing the same Banana Republic Traveler Jeans as everyone else. It doesn't even matter that they're more impressed with the B-list pro athletes in my DMs than the #rare kicks on my feet. Doesn't matter that they think Rick Owens is T.O.'s brother. Their ignorance doesn't come close to excusing my bland wardrobe.

8.

But I can't. Because nothing quality fits.

9.

I've been living at the supposed height of life for many years now and still don't have a solution. Boutiques don't carry my size. Pop-up shops might as well be designed for Inuit dwarfs. Online stores? Yeah, those are fun if you're into waiting five days to find out shit doesn't fit. I'm sure extra-tall style kings like Swaggy P and Tyson Chandler don't have these problems since they can afford to fly to Paris and force Kanye's muses to produce a season's worth of pieces...but I ain't rich and I ain't famous. I'm just an extraordinary guy who's dying to leave his basic brands behind.

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