Innehållsförteckning för Fall 2021 från GQ Style

DURING THE PANDEMIC, MANY DRIFTED INWARD. Instead, multidisciplinary artist Harry Gould Harvey IV and his wife, artist Brittni Ann Harvey, founded the Fall River Museum of Contemporary Art on the ground floor of an active textile manufacturer in Fall River, Massachusetts. A talented photographer who found his first success making photos as a teenager, Harvey managed to capture the art world’s attention when he began creating his arresting, occasionally gothic and hexed-seeming objects. He’s landed a spot in this fall’s New Museum Triennial, as well as in an upcoming two-person exhibition at Brown University’s David Winton Bell Gallery with the eco-feminist artist Faith Wilding, and he doesn’t half-ass anything: Harvey IV’s respect for Wilding is so acute, he has her name tattooed on his hand. GQ STYLE: How did you…

01 FALL’S FLYEST FITS 02 Custom Vintage Vest 03 Tweedy Duffel 04 COLOR - BLOCKED UCKETS 05 QUILTED PUFFER 06 DIP-DYED SET 07 Advanced Layering 08 CHECKS ON CHECKS 09 Origami Trousers 10 COLLECTIBLE QUILT 11 JACQUARD JACKET 12 Millefiori Tumblers 13 SUNFLOWER RING 14 Going-Out Tops 15 Bodega Fit 16 CROCHETED TANK 17 Luxe House Shoes 18 MAJOR MINAUDIÈRE 19 Deconstructed Jumper 20 Artisanal Vase 21 YEEHAW LOAFERS 22 LA PEPINO CHAIR 23 FRESH FORMALWEAR 24 THE RETURN OF PREP 25 BELTED CORD SUIT 26 Party Shirt 27 Tennis Bling 28 Shearling Peacoat 29 DOUBLE-PLEAT WALES 30 Silver Links 31 GREEN SCREEN 32 PRINCELY PATCHWORK SUIT 33 Badass Clogs 34 TORTOISESHELL SHADES 35 A Lamp We Like 36 Velvet Bomber 37 METAL FRAMES 38 DRUG-RUG JEANS 39 CLARK KENT BUSINESS CASUAL 40 Electric Blue Blazer 41 ORANGE SAPPHIRE TOURBILLON 42 Fleece Stoner Shorts 43 CHENILLE POLO…

AT THE VERY START of his career, Jonah Hill met Adam McKay over tacos at a Mexican spot in Hollywood. This was back in 2004, just after Hill appeared in his first movie—I Heart Huckabees. McKay, a former head writer for SNL who was just beginning a streak of comedies that would define the aughts, loved his performance. They riffed for hours. Hill would go on to star in his own run of raunchy, coming-ofage comedies that captured a generation. Then he pivoted: first to more serious roles in movies like Moneyball and The Wolf of Wall Street and then to the other side of the camera, directing his coming-of-age skate drama, Mid90s. McKay, too, would go on to more dramatic fare, writing and directing The Big Short and Vice.…

A FEW MONTHS BEFORE BECOMING the toast of New York, Thomas Doherty, Evan Mock, and Eli Brown, the male leads of HBO Max’s Gossip Girl reboot, are drinking at buzzy downtown French bistro Lucien. Over spicy margaritas, the boys start comparing their characters with those from the original series. Doherty’s Max Wolfe, an arched-eyebrowed instigator of chaos, is the Chuck Bass figure—and Doherty acts circles around Ed Westwick. Doherty presents a theory to Brown: “You’re—what’s his name, Dan?” Brown replies, “That’s what they’ve been saying! By they, I mean my fans.” The fans got that one right: As the Brooklyn-dwelling Otto “Obie” Bergmann IV, Brown brings a Dan Humphrey–like sense of nominal moral clarity to the show’s twisted social matrix. They turn to Mock. His character, the mellow Akeno “Aki” Menzies,…

WHEN OUTKAST NAMED their 1996 masterpiece ATLiens, they were broadcasting to the rest of the world the most important fact about Atlanta, Georgia: Its people and culture operate so far outside normal laws and standards that they might as well be from another planet. It’s the last true thriving American subculture. A place of dualisms, both Southern and progressive. In Atlanta, the strip club and church aren’t warring ideas; they’re just two stops on a routine Sunday. (Also: Both prefer cash.) It’s also become, in recent years, America’s number one exporter of pop culture, which is no accident. While the city has long been famous for its music—which can be punk or trunk-rattling or soulful or a mix of all of the above—style permeates everything. And everyone. From green locs…

A COUPLE OF WEEKS AFTER he ran away from home, 16-year-old Kunle Martins was skating in midtown Manhattan with a couple of friends. They were on 42nd Street, near the Port Authority Bus Terminal, when they ran into Martins’s father, who was waiting for the bus. “Fola,” said the elder Martins, using his son’s middle name. “Come on, we’re going home.” It was 1996, just as the New York skate scene was blowing up, and brands like Supreme and Zoo York were gaining a foothold downtown, exerting a strong pull on the young Martins. He’d been going to high school at the Manhattan Center for Science and Mathematics, on 116th Street. That was part of the problem. He wanted to attend the art high school, LaGuardia, where he could develop…