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in The Chap Wears by

The belt has long been one of life’s great mediators, dealing with the no-mans-land twixt the geographical north and south of one’s anatomy; an undisciplined and lawless region. For the borderland of the loins and lower limbs and the head and torso is a meeting of the emotional and the rational self. Well governed, and the transition between the two realms is seamless, resulting in sartorial equilibrium. Unregulated, and the ruinous hybrid ruptures the normally autonomous category of Chap, leaving a precarious creature mined of the darkest dreams of some rogue taxidermist. And you’ve seen the result: strutting and trilling…

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