There’s a strange sort of ache that settles in when you realize the world has forgotten how to slow down. Everything today moves with algorithmic haste—delivered, devoured, discarded. Most things we wear are built to last just long enough to outpace the next trend, made for no one in particular and everyone at once. But every so often, the pendulum starts to swing back. Not loudly. Not in some grand, performative gesture. Just a whisper. A tightening in the chest. A feeling that maybe—just maybe—we’ve had our fill of fast fashion and plastic polish. That feeling? It’s steering men back