You think Jeremy Allen White has any idea it’s Prime Day? We’d guess not: if his frequent jaunts to the farmers’ market are any indication, he’s a âshop localâ guy to the bones. Prime Day, though, certainly seems to be aware of him.
We’re not saying there’s crack-team of sweaty data analysts at Amazon HQ sifting through his recent order history. All we’re saying is that this week’s APD redux promises discounts on a suspicious number of JAW-approved classics, including the Levi’s jeans he wears with everything and the Calvin Klein boxers he wears with, well, nothing at all.
It’s not quite enough proof for us to rechristen 2024’s bizarro âPrime Big Deal Daysâ a covert Jeremy Allen White stoop sale, but hey, the question still standsâand if you’re looking to upgrade your fall wardrobe on the low, you could a lot worse than taking a few notes from his playbook.
Given Carmy’s luck with walk-in freezers, we probably wouldn’t set him loose in a Costco. But the heavyweight Merz b. Schwanen tee he wears throughout The Bear shares a certain spiritual kinship with the retailer’s ultra-beefy T-shirts, conveniently available by the 6-pack on Amazon. (Plus, we kind of dig the idea of White aimlessly wandering a warehouse in Red Hook, nibbling on a gratis slice of gorgonzola while clutching a jumbo bag of Chex Mix.) Looking for a deal with a little more menswear pedigree? White’s go-to Lacoste polo is on sale, too, though we’re guessing inventory won’t stay put long.
Last July, White delighted the GQ braintrust by stepping out in Bode’s red-hot riff on the Nike Astro Grabber, a once-forgotten football shoe currently selling for quadruple its asking price on the aftermarket. For the most part, though, his kicks skew scuffed, discreet, and resolutely everyman. (When, that is, he’s wearing them at all.) The Berzatto clan might be in dire need of therapy, but White’s commitment to no-frills silhouettes like the Nike Cortez and anxiety-provoking Adidas Samba qualifies as downright well-adjusted by Erewhon-run standards. If your sweaty dogs start barking for a break, swap âem for Whiteâs preferred slides, shower-caddy classics that look unexpectedly killer with fraying jeans and a rumpled tee.
In the immortal words of GQ sports writer Matthew Roberson: OMG, the Mets really did it. Roberson was referring to the organization’s improbable Grimace-assisted playoffs run, but he might as well be talking about its cultural proximity to a certain Brooklyn-born thespian with a penchant for repping his hometown squad. On most days, White accessorizes with nothing more than an average-guy ball cap and a big ol’ bouquet of flowersâbonus points if the former is sun-kissed and sweat-stained, and the latter is handed over with a wink by a florist trying their best not to ask about Sydney’s relationship status.
