What is the most /lit/ way to dress? If Joyce lived in the

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Pretentious twat with a typewriter /lit/ as fuck fashion there.

dress however you want faggot
literature is a hobby, an art, an interest, not a subculture.

tshirts are underwear

if you wear anything other than a button up shirt in public you will look like a manchild

Emulating college students, professors and south europeans sometimes.

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>>9561978
Beloved was an incredible book, Toni Morrison deserved the nobel

I'm a little /fa/gg/lit/ and my outfits are mostly inspired by maritime, military, and "professor-core" clothing

>be James Joyce in the 21st century
>finish shift at Toyota dealership
>walk into Taco Bell at 9:26 PM
>His Baltimore Orioles t-shirt has traces of hot dog mustard around the chest
>faint sperm stains around the midriff
>Tanisha, strong WOC and Taco Bell cashier: "whatchu want"
>james joyce: "BABALARDAFALDOOK GET IT? IT'S A JUTE PARODY OF 'CORN AND MEAT'! HAHA BUT ALSO A PARODY OF..."
>Tanisha: "...." (sheeit nigga my baby daddy ain't text me in two years. who da fuck dis spectacles nigga gon come in here and say this timbuktu shit with some mustard on his orioles shirt. baka)
>James Joyce: *ahem* "...I'll have the number 4 combo with a Baja Blast please"
>Tanisha: "Would you like a large drank?"
>James Joyce: "uh.. y-yeah..."

I wear a button up, jeans, boots, poncho, and a big rabbit felt hat.

>>9562051
top zozzle

>>9562067
>>9562051
Haha that's really clever anon, very unique and a real gut buster :)

>>9562087
Nice. And cool

>>9562022
>Beloved was an incredible book, Toni Morrison deserved the nobel
So much so she only won after a giant political chimpout demanding they give it to her or else all of Norway is racist.

like a vietnam vet or like a chinese commie no other way

>>9562051
>be James Joyce in 21st century

>A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight and the Taco Bell sign. The time had come again for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the news channels were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the somewhat dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the homeless riddled churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the Jihaded crosses and vandalized headstones, on the spears of the rusted gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

>>9562018
button down you faggot