Even by today’s standards, when men have not just stepped it up but embraced a certain effortlessly irreverent style, Bridges’ sartorial prowess feels both incredibly curated and created to impress while somehow still seeming to give no fucks what you or anyone else thinks of it. It’s stop-and stare-clothing that feels authentic to him, and could only be pulled off by him. It’s look-up-“cool cat”-in-the-dictionary-and-there-he-is style.
It’s in the old school western stitching, 70s wide-leg pants, and shiny loafers he pulled out of God knows what incredible gem of a thrift shop. That is the best kind of style one could hope to have. The type of clothes that make people wonder, is it vintage? Is it Gucci? Is it out of the deep corners of his grandma’s closet?
It’s stop-and stare-clothing that feels authentic to him, and could only be pulled off by him.
The amalgamation of influences going on—Street Etiquette, the retro vibes of some of his early heroes from Sam Cooke to Fred Astaire, a little gospel for good measure, while strongly embracing his Texas roots in that Gene Autry, even Elvis, kind of country—is what makes his style surprising. You can’t help but stare and wonder, how could all of these elements exist together? But there you have it.
There is a homemade nostalgic quality to his clothes, an ode to simpler times, that feel right at home for the now.
We might as well be describing his music as well. It’s some kind of special when an artist’s impressions can be felt from his work to his clothes to his on-stage moves (and moves he’s got). You’d be hard pressed to find a bad song on his 2018 album Good Thing, or even on his heavily retro debut, Coming Home, released in 2015 when Bridges was just barely in his twenties.
But don’t get us going on his music. Listen for yourself.
