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Nick Wooster

Free Agent. New York

Okay, so not to sound like we have a one-way ticket on the jaded train or anything, but we guess we’ve gotten pretty used to working with some completely amazing and admirable people. And don’t get us wrong or anything: there’s nothing we love more. We won't lie, this day job has some serious perks. That said, every once in a while (okay, so maybe it’s more like once a week—we’re enthusiasts, okay?!) an opportunity rolls through the office that literally causes all other work-related activities to grind to a halt. And here we present you with one of the biggest inter-Cov HQ squeal-inducing subjects yet: Nick Wooster. The day that his email arrived granting us access to his West Village apartment (and closet) will forever be know as the day The Coveteur office exploded.

Just in case you’ve been living under a rock for the past 3 years, Nick Wooster (full name: Nickelson Wooster—not even joking) is pretty much the king of men’s street style. We mean, no kidding: ever since he started doing the circuit back when he was men’s fashion director at Bergdorfs and Neimans (yes, he magically worked at both department store temples simultaneously), he inspired the same kind of frenzied photog scramble outside shows as Anna Dello Russo and Miroslava Duma. So you can imagine that by the time we walked through the threshold of the fashion consultant’s apartment, we had pretty much morphed into those heart-eyed emojis. ‘Cause, guys, on top of the enviable we-wish-our-boyfriends-would-get-it-together-and-wear-that ensembles, that hair, that face, those sleeves, that swagger, that… You get the picture.

And we were totally vindicated. We mean, this is a man who jokingly refers to his wardrobe as his 401k. But it’s not a joke: there’s a reason this guy is street style gold. One cursory glance in his multiple closets and there’s no doubt Wooster knows what he’s doing. First of all, he has enough Yohji and Thom Browne and Carven and Mark McNairy to stock the entire men’s department at Barneys—not to mention his, OMG-we-want-them-now Rick Owens #fashionsweatpants.

But it was his accessories collection that has to be seen to be believed—brogues and boots already displayed Cov-style on his bookshelves (we swear he did half our job for us); a colorful collection of kilt pins that he clasps through the top buttonholes of his many, many oxford shirts; flamboyant brooches and pins that he wears as boutonnieres (“I can find something to buy literally anywhere,” he told us as we sorted through them all—we believed him); and lastly, his shoes. Oh, yes, he (obviously) knows his shoes. As our photog Jake snapped away at Wooster (a natural in front of the camera, natch), we fawned over his brightly hued Jeffrey Top Siders and leopard print Célines. We totally get why the man admitted he wouldn’t swap closets with anyone—but seriously, Nick, consider us! Because for the first time maybe, like, ever, we’d actually trade wardrobes with a member of the opposite sex. Wooster, consider yourself warned.

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