The juxtaposition was flawless. He sported a pristine, snowflake-inspired Patagonia over a vintage piece a shredded 2005 Trips shirt by DOC along with a pair of effortlessly form-fitting women's volleyball sweatpants and just-scuffed forest green Sperries. Schwartz seemed utterly at ease, tossing his L.L. Bean canvas bag monogrammed with the name "Rachel" his paternal grandmother, I can only assume over his right shoulder.
It was as if there were no words of the appropriate grandiloquence to describe this fashion connoisseur.
"That's because there aren't any," explained Johnson. "When it comes to my clothes, social norms don't hold me down."
In his pursuit of style, Johnson has abandoned all respect for the laws of fashion and society. In 2008, he borrowed his first pair of Ray-Bans from his high school lost-and-found bucket. Since then, his sharing-is-caring philosophy toward fashion has allowed him to acquire one-of-a-kind pieces that would otherwise never make their way to his couture-driven closet.
It's difficult not to admire his cavalier approach toward personal style. Some would call it stealing, but Johnson and anyone with a respect for the craft knows that his efforts cannot be categorically oversimplified as criminal activity. Charged with assault in 2010 for attempting to remove a gentleman's tie from his person, Schwartz has recently had to be a bit more careful with his methods so as to not violate his probation.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," Johnson said. "The guy was sleeping and was clearly too old to be wearing mustard. I was doing him a favor, but he hit me with his briefcase and I was concussed for Winter Carnival."
But for Johnson and his illustrious yet awe-inspired admirers, the risks of a black eye are nothing compared to the benefits of fashion.
"I wouldn't know how to get through a day if I was wearing things that I had paid for and I had picked out," he said. "It's like I carry someone else's story with me wherever I go. It's inspiring."
Indeed it is. Utterly starry eyed, Johnson continued, describing the wholly ethereal sensation that overcomes his being when he opens his wardrobe in the morning.
"I think a lot of it has to do with the smells," he attempted to describe. "My one rule is to never ever wash anything. Why would I want to remove the essence of the prior owner? Every stain, every odor and every defect tell a story. It's how I connect to people."
To find the best pieces, Johnson recommends scoping out varied locations at different times of day.
"If you go to the same frat at the same time every Friday night, the selection of jackets you'll find will quickly get boring. I already have four black North Faces why would I want five?" Johnson said.
He acknowledged the cubbies at FoCo as prime inspirations, as the unjustly abandoned items are typically of higher quality than frat-wear.
"I found an awesome J. Crew blazer the other day that had been worn maybe once or twice," he said. "Thank you so much to whomever left it there for me. It fits perfectly."
Another weekend option is wondering into the upstairs bedrooms of houses and sifting through the dressers of brothers or sisters androgyny is big this season, he says.
"It can get a little dangerous though." Johnson admitted, exhuding the stench of sacrifice at the Armani gods' altars. "I wouldn't recommend it at GDX or Heorot in all honesty."
But if Johnson's attitude toward style has inspired you to be a bit adventurous, why not take the plunge? Twirling a gently used black fedora in his hands, Johnson's persona is absolutely captivating.
"I mean, you never know whose shirt you'll end up wearing to class next week. Just hope he's not in your 2A. That can get awkward," he said.
