No one has ever looked cooler in a jacket than Liam Gallagher.
Liam was for a long time, of course, the singer of Oasis, a band whose music and style I have loved deeply as long as I can remember. Strangely, a global sensation, but only a blip on the radar in the United States, except for their enduring alternative rock anthem, “Wonderwall.”
I fondly recall shoplifting magazines like The Face and NME from my local Borders (RIP) in the late 90’s, many of them featuring Liam Gallagher, sporting one of his wild haircuts, a head-turning parka from Stone Island, paired with baggy Levi’s 504s, a pair of sand suede Clarks Desert Treks or blue Adidas Gazelles, round John Lennon shades, and a Kangol bucket hat. It was his Stella Artois-drenched twist on mod revivalism. Polos, track jackets, bucket hats, and parkas, so casual and approachable. Liam, the band’s iconic leader, influenced everyone from the local football hooligans to screaming masses in Japan and chubby hardcore kids from suburban Atlanta.
Interestingly, unlike some rockstars, Liam has been able to age into his look. Rather than looking desperate, or like he’s clinging to the past, he’s spent the 2010s simply looking…great: a cool father of three who goes on daily jogs in his North London neighborhood, often seen sporting a statement sneaker with a tasteful all-black workout kit, anchored by a light North Face Gore-Tex jacket—hood up, of course. The haircuts and drug use have calmed down, but the penchant for incredible outerwear, his signature, hasn’t changed.
Who else can do a few lines, wear a giant white parka, and balance a tambourine on their head while singing in front of 100K people at Glastonbury but also expertly roast his brother Noel on Twitter? That is swag, the mysterious element that keeps someone stylish and relevant for decades. It’s also something I have chased since high school, adding bits of Liam’s look whenever I could. I will never have that working-class hero-gone-upmarket Madchester style, the voice, or adoring fans. But as Liam and I creep into the 2020s, at least I can borrow a few moves, look in the mirror, and see just a shade of a rock n’ roll star.
Source: GQ