You know what’s Crazy? I’ll tell you what’s Crazy™
The Arrested Collection™
I was thinking about a new and novel fashion line inspired by dark and stupid.
Jailhouse, mug shots, chaos.
And suddenly, my favorite mug shot of all time jumped into my brain and viola!
The Arrested Collection idea was born.
I was thinking of the idea when I came across Nick Nolte’s Mug Shot.
This is from 2002 when he got popped for a DUI.
It’s 15 years old and it still has a style that speaks to me.
Why am I commenting on this now? I’m not exactly sure.
Is it the caught in the act of defiance je ne se qua factor?
Perhaps it’s the defiant, self actualized, intensely independent look he delivers.
I love this mug shot like the guy who wears aluminum foil in the subway loves conspiracy theories.
Nolte said in subsequent interviews that this was not a mug shot. He says this picture was taken by a police officer at the hospital where he was getting a blood test.
What was in his blood? Confetti? Skittles? 27 shots of tequila?
Regardless of where it was taken, why it was taken, or how drunk a lab rat could get by licking Nolte’s skin.
This is an American classic.
This is a 68 SS Chevy Camaro, crashing into a wall of freshly dyed Easter Eggs.
This picture is so iconic, soldiers should hang it on the inside of their foot lockers.
Drunk Ass Nick Nolte should inspire a battle cry that makes everyone want to run the hill and plant the flag.
I’m not even sure what that means.
This mug shot even has it’s on Twitter Handle called Nick Nolte’s Mug Shot.
The sweat, the diabolical mischievousness?
This is a Rembrandt of mug shots. If we could cut open the frozen brain of a deceased Salvador Dali, I believe this is what you would find.
The Hawaiian shirt screams I am pineapple tested tough. It challenges you to throw a pineapple at his head. I dare ya.
The vibrant blues and swirling rose colored yellows? This mug shot is a neutron star of gravitational complexity. Walk close to this image and time slows. The insanity pulsing from the photo is palpable.
I am drawn to this festering abyss in quality control like a blood sucking gnat drawn to raw garbage behind a Chinese Restaurant.
This picture screams crazy in a fun, but dangerously crazy kind of way.
Whatever you do; don’t let your teenage daughter in the car with this guy.
The Arrested Collection? How could this be a clothing line? I don’t see how it can’t.
Nolte is an inspiration in jail house decoupage. He has hair like spray starched spaghetti. He has an angular, tanned face that was once Hollywood handsome, but now is jailhouse twisted. He has a miscreant chin, a disheveled stare, an incoherent pulse that explodes off the screen.
Did he really wear this shirt for a night out on the town? It is the only sale from the now defunct Steve McGarret collection.
“Book Em Danno!”
This photo should inspire all of us. Don’t be this guy. But dare to be this guy. Think outside the box. Think like an arrested actor, F’ed up on drugs and booze that we couldn’t afford.
The Arrested Collection? Why not?
You’ve heard of WWJD?
How bout WWNND?
That’s right; What Would Nick Nolte Do?
I love this look. It’s a British Soccer Riot. It’s a 3 car pile up involving Pablo Picasso swollen liver. It’s a baby spitting up oatmeal on a brand new Christening outfit. It looks like a cockatoo lost a fight with a blender.
The Arrested Collection.
I can see hard bodied Cali kids dropping over the top of the curl riding their LC long boards. The guys are decked out in hot pink Arrested Collection board shorts that light up a torso like a neon colored beer sign.
I see the women wearing little bikinis with NN crazy faces on their crotch.
Damn that’s not only hot, it’s dangerous.
The Life’s Crazy Arrested Collection™ Dialing up Another frequency of crazy.
It looks like 3 colors of play dough nuked in a microwave. This is what your stomach looks like after a couple of Double Chili Cheese Burgers and few shots of Patron.
The clothing comes with it’s own warning label and blank affidavit that you can fill in later.
Can you imagine seeing this on the red carpet at the Kodak theater?
Photographers’ light bulbs crackling. Reporters shouting like hyenas.
“Nick, Nick, what are you wearing?”
I imagine Mr. Nolte squinting through alcohol soaked eye balls, trying to dislodge the cob webs out of his crusty pupils.
After focusing on the bright vomit stained Hawaiian swirls on his chest, Mr. Nolte Burps a Technicolor bubble of booze, wipes his face with the crook of his elbow and says;
“What am I wearing? Who cares!”
And with that, the personification of crazy pushes his palm tree styled hair out of his face and moves on.
Who Cares!
Viola!
Thanks Mr. Nolte.
Another inspiration for a clothing line that will exceed like excess.
Mr. Nolte table for one.
Life’s Crazy.