Brad Pitt is one of the producers of the movie Blonde, a fictionalized take on Marilyn Monroe's life based on Joyce Carol Oates's 2000 novel and starring Ana de Armas. I know this because Blonde premiered at the Venice Film Festival and there, next to the leading lady, was Pitt. "Why is he standing there?" I asked myself. A quick Google search later, and I was enlightened.
On some other occasion, I might have simply left the question to linger until forgotten. But I had to know, because I had to write about Pitt's appearance, because Pitt had to go full Slouchy Boy with his red-carpet outfit. And, really, how do you not talk about Brad Pitt in full Slouchy Boy mode? (This is where I admit that I did not actively talk about Pitt's slouchiness during the Bullet Train press tour, a mistake for which I may, one day, long from now, forgive myself.)
Here's the thing about Slouchy Brad, Venice Edition: he looks pretty good. But he also looks a little ... off. There are two ways to approach this dichotomy. On the one hand, you can consider the inherent tension in his outfit—the billowing and pooling of the trousers contrasted with the slimness of the jacket—as a sort of artistic statement. Pitt's an avowed architecture nut. He understands that art in all its forms is about push and pull. Pacification and provocation. Give and take. How the viewer responds to these things is entirely subjective. It's about creating space for that interpretation. On the other hand, you could say that maybe his jacket should be a little looser (with the bottom button unbuttoned), or his trousers and little tighter. Up to you.
What's undeniable, though, is that Brad Pitt is a producer of the movie Blonde. Also, that Adidas Gazelles—possibly the Gucci version, as Pitt's been wearing those a lot lately, though there doesn't appear to be a matching colorway available to purchase currently—look really great with a black suit. You can grab a pair right now, if you want.
You can also grab a pair of Gucci-fied ones in white, if you're feeling fancy.
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