The Post was a digital magazine I created from scratch and built into a fully-featured men’s lifestyle publication, with content dispersed across the Bespoke Post user experience: an email newsletter, microcontent placed throughout shopping grids, printed cards placed inside subscription boxes, a printed magazine distributed in all store orders, and more.
While its intention was originally to simply offer explanations for the products in Bespoke Post’s boxes, the vision quickly scaled to become much more.
Through five years of development, multiple redesigns, a network of freelance and staff writers, and a desire to be more than a product blog, The Post grew into a place where we could offer information and inspiration to men who wanted to better themselves and the world around them. The result became one half of the Bespoke Post mission statement: “Goods and guidance for the modern man.”
I don't exactly need help with anything; I just wanted to reach out to tell you guys I've unsuspectingly really enjoyed your articles. I only add "unsuspectingly" because I feel it emphasizes how well I think they're written.
The clubroom, shopping, and products were already great. However, when I eventually decided to check out some of the literature on a whim, I expected a company whose revenue comes from having products to sell wouldn't have much to say, at least without a focus on advertising more stuff in the process. But every article I've checked out comes across as well thought-out, well-constructed, smooth prose, with an earnest approach to covering topics true to the "philosophy" of Bespoke Post from an original angle.
There's little fluff, and nothing appears written just to meet some quota or marketing goal. Every piece feels like the author cared about what they were saying. Even when there is a product tucked away in an article, it doesn't feel like the content is funneling towards it. It's more like, "Hey, if you were on your way to explore more about this particular thing mentioned at this point, we've got something for you."
All I know is that if a The Post magazine started popping up on the shelves, I'd be reaching past GQ and Esquire for it.
Wish you guys continued success.
A Moveable Feast has long been hailed as one of the seminal texts of the Lost Generation, capturing the romanticism and restlessness that bohemian American expatriates experienced in the decade following The Great War. Published posthumously in 1964, three years after Ernest Hemingway’s abrupt suicide via double-barrel shotgun, the book is a melancholy romp through the streets, cafés, and artist studios of Paris in the early 20th century.
It features a cast of characters so star-studded – we meet Gertrude Stein, James Joyce, and F. Scott Fitzgerald – that there can be no question as to the book’s rightful designation as the definitive snapshot of Modernist literature and expat life in the first half of the last century. But for all the fanfare surrounding the book, few writers have examined the text through the lens of one of Hemingway’s most notorious vices: the drink. Fear not, daiquiri enthusiasts. Working from the 2009 Restored Edition of the text, we’ve put together a chapter-by-chapter tour of every single drink Ernest Hemingway drinks in A Moveable Feast, along with our own grading and breakdown of the kind of alcohol experience one might expect after putting down the same amount of booze as Hemingway.
In Scandinavia, toasts look like this: The host raises a long-stemmed shot glass. Every person around the table pauses to share a second of eye contact with everyone else, taking care to leave no one out. The host calls out, “Skål” (pronounced “skull,” a toast dating to Viking antiquity). Everyone drinks. They make eye contact again. Glasses are set down and stay on the table until the host raises his again.
In Denmark, this will happen at least twice (one shot for each leg, they say). In Sweden, toasts are typically bookended with songs, increasing in volume and fervor as the night burns on — more than 9,000 songs are recorded in the nation’s Historical Museum of Wine and Spirits, with 200 written specifically for this toasting ritual. In Norway, beer is served alongside the shots to whet the palate for the spirit. That spirit, the one uniting people around the table and locking their eyes together in a moment of shared experience, is aquavit.