#golf shirts with sun protection

[harrysbelovedd]

the kook's girl [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x kook reader

summary - being the only girl in the kook friend group, you were always taken care of. especially since you and rafe started dating four months ago. safe to say, everyone on the island knew not to mess with you if they valued their life at all. so, when the tourons came to town in the summer, the kook boys always got their bit of fun.

warnings - swearing, fighting, just our fav protective!rafe

"Sarah, it's our song!" She slurred, grabbing onto her best friend's hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.

Rafe and Sarah are never on good terms, but Rafe knows no matter how much he hates his sister, she'll always be his girl's best friend. He's grateful for it sometimes, as annoying as it can be, it's just one more person who cares about her and is always looking out for her when Rafe can't be.

But tonight, as both kook girls are drunk off their asses, Rafe keeps a close eye. He spots John B doing the same from across the club as he sits next to Kiara, still keeping a close eye on his girl, Sarah.

Rafe sits in a booth at the club, nursing a glass of whiskey in his palm. Topper and Kelce sit next to him, talking about things he could not care less about at the moment. For example, the girls on the dance floor they want to take home, golf, etc.

No, Rafe's attention is solely on the girl who lights up the dance floor in her sparkly pink dress which Rafe bought for her just three days prior. Her gold necklace with the letter 'R' hanging from her neck shines brightly as the club lights hit it. Her baby pink kitten heels travel her elegantly across the floor as her arm remains tightly latched onto Sarah's as they dance in tune.

He barely even notices the slight smile etched onto his lips in affection as he takes a slow sip from his glass.

"Yo!"

Rafe's attention is abruptly moved from his girl to his dumbass friends as Topper pulls on his white half-way unbuttoned shirt.

"What?" Rafe spits, rolling his eyes at their antics.

"Tourons, 12 o'clock." Topper warns.

"What the fuck? I think they're looking at Y/n and Sarah, man." Kelce points out, suddenly sitting up straighter as they both snap out of their previous conversations to keep an eye on the situation.

This catches his attention as he clocks the three sun burnt tourists waltzing in wearing khaki shorts, polos, and flip flops. Idiots. He notices one of them point in Y/n's direction as the other's snicker, laughing as they spoke to each other.

Rafe’s eyes dart back to Y/n, oblivious as ever, in her own little world.

"I've almost been waiting to pick a fight," He confesses. "Just wait till they get too close."

The three morons make their way in the direction of Y/n. One particular guy, wearing a blue tropical button up, comes up behind Y/n, tapping her shoulder. Rafe is just close enough to overhear the conversation.

“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he smirks, hungry eyes looking her up and down.

She turns around, her smile slightly fading at his stare. “Um, hi.” She spins back around, grabbing onto Sarah.

“You two are pretty little things, out here by yourselves.” He chuckles, his hand moving to her shoulder.

“You gonna go out there man?” Topper asks, getting anxious for the girls.

“No, just wait. I want a real excuse to kill em’.” Rafe responds, his fists clenching.

Ethan’s grimy hands near Y/n’s neck, his index finger latching onto her gold ‘R’ necklace. “What’s your name, hm? R…?”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Y/n whispers, her eyes meeting Rafe.

Rafe stands, marching over to Ethan. Rafe’s fist latches onto the back of his collar, pulling him back as Y/n’s necklace slips from his grasp. Rafe turns him around, knocking a punch to his jaw, blood spurting from his lips onto Rafe’s face.

Rafe lets go aggressively, the boy falling to the ground forcefully. Rafe smirks, his ringed hand coming up to wipe Ethan’s blood from his jaw. “The ‘R’ stands for Rafe. Her boyfriend.” He states before knocking one more punch to the boy’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” He pathetically whimpers, begging for mercy.

“She clearly had zero fucking interest in you, yet you continued,” He chuckles. Rafe leans down, pulling Ethan’s neck up by his collar. “You better hope your flight out of here is tomorrow morning. If not, watch your back man.”

Topper and Kelce come into view, peering at the man below Rafe, only inciting more fear into the poor tourist. Ethan’s two friends quickly pull him up, scattering out of the club as fast as they can.

Rafe turns to Y/n, his demeanor immediately turning soft, a side of himself only she gets to see. “You okay, baby?” He asks, his eyes scanning over her face for any discomfort.

“I’m okay, just some asshole tourist.” She rolls her eyes, manicured fingers grasping onto her necklace.

His eyes flick down to her hand, she only fidgets with her necklace when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. He feels more rage and anger boil up inside him thinking about how that guy ruined her night of fun with Sarah.

“Wanna go home, baby?” Rafe whispers softly, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears.

She bites her lip in debate, turning toward her friend Sarah. Sarah nods her head, “It’s okay, I’m gonna have John B take me back to his place too, it’s getting late anyway.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go home. I’ll text you Sarah, we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?” Y/n feels guilty, her and Sarah haven’t gotten to spend as much time together ever since she started dating John B and hanging out with his friends more.

Y/n had nothing against the pogues, she thought the rivalry was stupid and childish. She actually found them quite nice, but she spends every minute with her best friends, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce.

Rafe slings his arm around her shoulder after giving his goodbyes to Topper and Kelce, walking you to his truck. He opens the door for you without a word, buckling you in and shutting the door.

When he gets in on his side, starting the truck, he looks over at his girl at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”

She sniffles, “I just miss Sarah. Wanted to hang out with her tonight but those guys ruined it.”

Rafe’s hand slips around her thigh, patting it lovingly. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Sarah gets her ass off the cut tomorrow to hang out with you, okay?”

She smiles, her hand finding comfort atop Rafe’s. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

[earl-grey-teacake]

hey! first of all, the idea of baby!au is fantastic. I love all your points. you already wrote about galex "stressed out of their minds new age parents" and that was fascinating to read! would you mind to elaborate the same about carlando? pretty please 🥺🙏🏻

Awww! Thank you!!!

Of course I can write a Carlando one!

Carlos and Lando didn't mean to adopt Oscar. It just sort of happened. One minute they are in Australia and the next thing they are taking a 1 month baby home. Thankfully Carlos know how to take care of a baby and make a bottle and change a diaper because Lando was incredibly lost.

Lando is very sensitive to Oscar's emotions and baby's are very emotionally volatile. While Oscar is much calmer than other babies, it can go from 0 to 100 really quick. Lando's vibe is "Oh my god, what am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing. Wait, I do know what I am doing. Nevermind, I was very wrong."

Carlos is a bit more capable due to experience but the downside is Oscar prefers Lando more and it makes taking care of him incredibly difficult. Carlos brings a "I want to help you. Just let me help you" energy that quickly becomes "I know you communicate mostly through crying but can you try a different method." Carlos wants to zone out sometimes but he can't.

Oscar wrecks terror on their marriage and social life. The only thing that is really intact is their job. Oscar's pickiness pushes an unequal distribution of labor in certain areas which strains the marriage. Oscar also doesn't have the energy to be around a lot of people for long periods of time, and his parents keep an active social life.

They had to go to couples counseling a month into the adoption which helped them find equal ground when it came to balancing childcare and their marriage. It also helped that Oscar met Logan and now was fairly content as long as he got to play with Logan.

Lando also started bringing Oscar onto his streams which garnered him a ton of new subscribers. Oscar was fairly content being held and staring at the lights and moving pictures and people found him to be adorable.

Oscar slowly enjoys Carlos's company without Lando in the picture but Carlos is the more responsible party. Feeding, doctor appointments, making sure Oscar has a hat every time he goes outside to protect him from the sun.

The one activity they do enjoy together is golf. They get a couple hours on the course and Oscar gets to sit in his carrier and nap in the golf cart.

Babies are expensive and Oscar is no exception. The issue is that the biggest expense is the wi-fi. Oscar has a designated time to see Logan, whether it be in-person or through Face Time. If George and Alex are free, a play date is an easy thing to organize. However, a face time call is usually the result. The issue lies in Oscar falling asleep with the phone in his hand but will wake up and cry if the phone is removed.

Oscar, like Logan, is a clingy baby. Even though he doesn't say it, he still clings to Carlos's shirt when he has to leave for the race. While he doesn't cry most of the time, he does get upset and hides his face. He also does the same thing with Lando. Carlos is sad but he laughs it off and tells Oscar he'll be back. Lando, however, will carry Oscar as much as he can and is very reluctant to hand him over to the caretaker. While he doesn't cry, Oscar's sad little face and his outstretched hands makes the departure very difficult.

I hope you like it! It's not as cheery as the one I did for Galex but I wanted to show the difference in dynamic and parenting style.

Thank you for sending the ask and feel free to send me more!!!! :)

[emira-addams]

Hazbin Hotel - Alastor & Rosie - One Hell of a Team

TW: 18+

Their first murder leaves Alastor and Rosie with a special taste…

The scorching summer sun shone mercilessly down on the Louisiana Country Club, which stood out like a filthy stain in the wasteland of endless farmland and vast countryside. The country club was surrounded by rough, dry meadows and extensive woods.

The heat blazed over the lush green of the golf course. Sprinklers danced and the sun painted glittering rainbows as white golf balls flew through the air and across the grass.

A gentle breeze allowed the mellow grass to sway lazily in the warm wind, while countless bugs buzzed and hummed restlessly in the stifling heat.

The polished windows of the main building reflected the glaring sunlight, while the clear sky stretched above Alastor’s and Rosie's heads and not a single cloud dared to spoil the idyllic picture of pure blue. Even the birds were silent, with only the lively twittering of overzealous crickets interrupting the peace and quiet of the afternoon teatime.

Alastor and Rosie sat in the protective shade of a parasol at a table on the terrace with a cup of tea.

"Hm..." Rosie enthused, lavishly. "Today really is a wonderful day, wouldn't you say, Alastor?" she inquired of her best friend, the gentleman seated opposite her in a white shirt, black bow tie, and round glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"Heaven on earth and a pure bliss," Alastor replied serenely, a smile curling his lips. "Care for more tea, my dearest Rosie?"

"Indubitably."

Alastor rose elegantly from his chair, lifted the teapot, and with a gentle hand, poured some more for the lady. The sound of Fats Waller's rich voice and how she sang the lyrics of "Ain't Misbehavin'" spilled from the speakers of the small table radio, sizzling and static-ridden, the rustling melody accompanied by his piano playing.

"I dare to say, the jazz craze is taking over, eh?" Rosie steeped her Assam with sugar cane. Slowly, her spoon stirred in her cup until the crystals dissolved into the dark brew. Sideways, she caught Alastor's grimace at the sight of the huge amount of sugar cane in her tea. "The rhythm, the spontaneity. Quite the bee’s knees. Heard of the new jazz joint downtown? Been there yet?" She rested the spoon on the saucer and brought the porcelain to her lips.

"Jazz, eh? Haven't stepped in yet, but the music and its leading voices quite captivate me." Alastor sipped his own Assam, prefering his tea without sugar. "These country clubs, so buttoned-up, they create their own lost world. Everything there is so... stiff… Jazz on my radio broadcasts could be the cat's pajamas, a real breath of fresh air, or should I say, a blast from Louis Armstrong's trumpet?"

"Alastor, miming the wag for once," Rosie sniggered in amusement. "But you're right. Jazz is the new sound for the escapism this spoiled society craves."

"Absolutely, a splendid escape. Speaking of escape, heard about the party next weekend at the Fitzgeralds’. They’re promising something ‘unprecedented and utterly daring’.” Alastor gestured grandly, then leaned close to Rosies ear, ensuring their chat wouldn’t have an unwanted audience. “I suspect they’re just desperately aim to outdo the Morgans’ bash from last month. Rumor has it, they're planning to introduce the Charleston to the elite. It’ll be quite the spectacle, watching the old guard cutting a rug."

"Oh, the competition never ends, does it? These bashes, tiresome, and becoming more and more of competitions for the biggest show-off. Who can be the most extravagant, be the talk of the town. Like we're all characters in a novel, vying for the most dramatic storyline."

"Indeed." Alastor always had more tea to spill during his outings with Rosie, ever keen on the latest gossip and sharing it with his best friend. "Caught wind of the Robinson debacle? Their latest venture has failed spectacularly. They're practically social pariahs now. It’s all the town can talk about. Seems their stock’s is falling faster than hemlines!"

Rosie waved it off. "Heard, and can't say I'm all wet," she whispered, swiftly glancing all around. "Always too big for their britches… They were always so utterly confident, almost arrogant. Watching their fall from grace is like observing a meticulously planned fireworks display that ends in a fizzle. There’s a certain… satisfaction in it…"

A broad grin graced Alastor’s grimace. "Schadenfreude, my dear friend, which is the word you were looking for, a really snazzy German term. But it’s hard not to indulge when the high and mighty take such a spectacular nosedive. It’s the most entertainment we get around here, apart from my fantastic radio broadcasts."

"Spot-on..." Rosie muttered, downing the last of her Assam. The contents of the teapot were completely bone dry. "Speaking of entertainment," she changed the subject of their conversation. "I was mulling over of hosting a little soirée of my own. Nothing like these grandiose displays, mind you. More intimate, with real jazz musicians. I want to see our peers let their hair down, for once. We’ll have it all—music, dance, and maybe even a bit of bootlegged gin, the hooch to loosen up the stiff collars."

Alastor applauded his hands with zest. "A really splendid idea, my dearest Rosie! Let's show them how it’s done and give them something to jaw about. This time we could be the trendsetters. Just imagine the talk it’ll stir up, us hosting something so… authentic. It’ll be the cat’s pajamas!"

"Exactly my thought, Alastor!" Rosie beamed, her enthusiasm palpable. "High time we spiffed up these gatherings with some genuine fun. Let's put our heads together on it. It'll be our little project, a gem of authenticity in a sea of fakery. We'll be the talk of the town, the big cheese, the darlings of the Jazz Age, flappers and philosophers in equal measure."

Alastor scrutinized, swirling the empty teapot back and forth. "Oh, I'm all in. Let’s shake up this stiff status quo. More tea, or shall we start planning our soirée? After all, rebellion is the greatest form of flattery in these modern times, wouldn’t you agree?"

Dusk painted the grasslands and woodlands of the Louisiana Country Club in the most beautiful colors, a brilliant yellow and a blazing orange. In the last light of the fading sun, the shadows grew. The heat was waning and the staff had already started to close the parasols. The first exterior lights flickered noisily to life, the electricity crackling. A bunch of boys were busily collecting the white golf balls scattered across the green grass.

"I reckon it's time to beat it..." sighed Rosie melancholically as Alastor, ever the thoughtful gentleman, offered his assistance and helped her to stand up. Further planning of the soirée would be postponed until their next outing. "The day's wearing thin and you know how angry Franklin can get if I'm not back before the lights are out..."

"Hm..." Alastor muttered as he handed her her hat and offered her his arm. When Alastor touched her, she winced. "Oh, Rosie..." He read her straight through. "You're a very special kind of actress, but even your smile for your old pal can’t mask the anguish in your eyes." Before Rosie could respond, he had carefully taken her wrist and exposed her arm. Under the silky fabric of her dress, gruesome abrasions, ghastly scratches and deep blue marks appeared on her pale skin. She froze in horror in his hold. "You know I've got no use for your husband," he spoke in a soft voice. His fingertips dragged their comforting circles over her arm. "I don't like the way he treats you and his manners towards a dame are distasteful. I would prefer to make him-"

"Alastor, don't-" Rosie interrupted him in his sentence as she quickly freed herself from his hold and hid the cruel sight of her arm under the fabric of her dress again. She closed her eyes as her fingers clawed into the cloth of his shirt. Her voice fell to a faint whisper. "You know how my father promised me to my husband. It was a business deal and I wasn't given the say or the luxury of complaints." She sighed. "I-It... It's gotten unbearable with him, Alastor. This marriage... it's... suffocating..." The rest of her words died on the tip of her tongue. Her voice trembled as her fingernails dug into his flesh. They strolled slowly around the country club building.

"Rosie..." Slowly, the everlasting smile slipped from Alastor's face. "I have known you for years, you are my oldest and closest confidant. I was reluctantly forced to watch you fade into a shadow of yourself in the presence of that abominable man, and I must admit that it pains me greatly to see you so diminished. What he is doing to you is not-"

"Alastor, please pipe down your voice," Rosie pleaded. Nervously, she began to chew on her lower lip and quickly looked all around. "Franklin is a man of high repute, no doubt revered by many, a man above reproach. And I... I am merely his arm candy, the canary with clipped wings and caged in gold, sweating to live up to what society expects of me… I gotta play the dutiful wife, because I am the fool…”

"You can't be justifying his violent behavior towards you!" Alastor objected, full of anger and protest, but also helplessness. "Neither his age nor his wealth, let alone his position as your husband, allow him such a right."

Rosie fought down a harsh sob as teardrops shimmered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to blur her vision. She quickly blinked them away. "What’s to be done, Alastor?" she desperately asked her best friend. "I can't find a way out of this marriage. Filing for divorce and leaving Franklin would cause a scandal and shame... I’d be a marked doll. I probably wouldn't be able to step outside the door again."

"Oh, my dearest Rosie..." Alastor sighed softly. When they reached the waiting car in the driveway, he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her before opening the door to the back seat for her and they separated. "I promise you, you're not in this alone. We'll scout out an escape, somehow we'll dig up a way for you," he whispered. "I promise you that you can count on me."

Rosie took a deep breath, wiping the traces of tears from her cheeks. There was a weak smile on her lips, overshadowed by her somber expression and the hopelessness in her eyes. "You are my port in a storm. Thanks, Alastor."

"Sure thing! In case of need, you know who to buzz." He gave her an encouraging smile as he bid her goodbye "I wish you a good night, Rosie."

"Nighty-night, Alastor."

The next night was dreadfully dark.

The starry shape of the moon was missing from the firmament. A black moon ruled over the darkness and the dense clouds drowned out the last light of the stars. Sheer endless stacks of gloomy black clouds smothered the sky. A warm wind blew. Its hideous howling echoed like a dog's whining and wailing between the buildings. In the distance, thunder rumbled sinisterly and glaring flashes of light split the sky, roaring and crashing.

A severe storm was looming on the horizon.

The glaring flashes of lightning shattered the deep darkness of the night as the thunderclap that followed tore Alastor roughly from his peaceful dreamland. He was startled out of his sleep with a strangled shriek as the ceiling above his head trembled. Again and again, the sky was split into thousands of pieces by glaring light, the stars shattered into shards and the earth seemed to shake, while the storm and the wind raged against one another like two wild beasts in battle. Rain roared.

Alastor sighed sorrowfully. He closed his eyes and rubbed his raging temples when suddenly the soft ringing of the telephone from the kitchen reached his ear, the sound muffled by the closed bedroom door. "The phone?" Surprised, he glanced at the clock display on his wall. "Who would...?" he pondered as a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. "Rosie!" Filled with fright, Alastor leapt from his bed. His leg tangled in his lay and he didn't take a very glamorous fall onto the hard wooden floor.

"Damn..." Under bated breath and between curses, Alastor pulled himself back onto two legs before sprinting barefoot out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to the phone. He yanked the receiver from its stand. "Rosie?" He listened to the stunned silence on the other end of the line as irritated fingers rubbed the sore spot on his arm from his fall off the bed. He stifled a yawn and tried to keep the sleep out of his voice. "Rosie? What's the matter? It's quite an ungodly hour for a call from you..."

"Alastor?" A strangled whisper broke through the static, her voice trembling. "I-I... I find myself in quite the predicament... I... I fret I've done something dreadfully wrong... Something most unfortunate has happened to my husband. Alastor, y-you must come here immediately..." Rosie's voice broke off.

"What happened?" Alastor was wide awake, frantically rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. "Rosie, I need you to speak to me more clearly. Are you in harm’s way?" The silence and the incessant static on the other end of the line were driving him crazy. "Rosie? Rosie, please talk to me."

"Oh, Alastor... I don't dare over the phone. Could you possibly make your way here?"

He heard her unsteady breaths and heavy sobs through the receiver. "Hang in there, Rosie. Promise me you'll stay up wherever you are, do you hear ? I am getting dressed and making my way out as we speak, please leave the door ajar for me. Whatever happened, we'll deal with it together."

"Please, just make haste, Alastor..."

"I’ll be there posthaste. Please try to stay sane until then, will you?" he promised, when the next moment lightning struck with a roaring thunderclap and the line went dead. He clenched his fists, cursing, and slammed the receiver back into its holder. Alastor had to get to Rosie pronto.

"Rosie!" His voice cracked. Frantically, he strove to shout her name against the crushing silence as he rushed through the heavy front door of the mansion, his boots muddy and his clothes soaked to the bone by the pouring rain. Dark strands of hair hung in his face, the lenses of his glasses were blind and he had armed himself with an axe, just in case.

Alastor strained to hear. "Where are you, Rosie?" The eerie silence seemed almost peaceful as he listened to the rapid, fast-circulating blood rushing through his veins and his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. His knuckles turned white as they clutched the wet handle of the axe tighter.

"Rosie?" whispered Alastor. The dim light of the antique lanterns along the walls flickered nervously. The reddish glow of the rising morning sun fell against the rigid walls of the mansion, creating ominous shadows, dust specks danced bustling in the first sunshine. In the distance, the bells of the church chimed solemnly for the full hour. Faintly, almost tenderly, each of the individual strokes against the dull metal mingled with the bizarrely cheerful chirping of the birds and echoed hauntingly in Alastor's head, while his wheezing breath slowly strangled his throat and filled his lungs with wadding.

"Where are you, Rosie?" His mouth was dry, his hurried footsteps bouncing back from the towering brick walls of the mansion, betraying his panic as his restless gaze twitched back and forth, keeping a careful eye on the shadows.

"H-Here..." Suddenly, the wretched sound of her voice came from the kitchen.

Alastor dashed towards the kitchen.

"Goodness gracious, Rosie! What has happened here?" As Alastor entered the room, he suddenly stepped in something moist. A sticky liquid stained the tips of his boots and the stinging smell of a mixture of iron and salt crept into his nose. The smell of blood clouded his senses as he stood stiff and silent in the red puddle, but then he spotted Rosie.

Her silhouette crouched on the ground with her head down and her shoulders slumped. The gleam of the knife blade in her hands shed an ominous, shimmering glow on the scene. Her husband's body laid amidst shards of glass and a smashed chair.

Alastor took a deep breath, then crossed the pool of blood on the kitchen tiles with steady steps and sat down with his best friend, sighing in sadness. The brass handles of the cupboard doors dug into his spine. "My dear Rosie, let's set the knife aside, shall we?" Carefully, he freed it from her tight grip.

"Oh, Alastor..." her voice whispered weakly, stifled by heavy sobs. "W-What have I done?" Eyes sunken and cheeks wet with tears, she stared stunned at her bloodied hands. "I didn't mean for it to come to this. Oh, Alastor, I had no wish to cause harm and hurt him. My only desire was to protect myself from him but then the things took a dreadful turn…”

"Is he dead?" Alastor demanded to know, his voice low. He rose and stalked over to her husband, his chest rising and falling weakly with rattling breaths. More and more blood oozed from the wounds of his injuries as the pool on the floor grew.

Rosie shook her head swiftly. "I believe he is still drawing breath, albeit faintly. I am filled with fright, Alastor, truly frightened..."

"Hm..." Lost in thought, his boot nudged his body, Franklin tried to stir with a grave groan. "Rosie, listen carefully. We must remain composed now. Taking him to a hospital is out of the question, as it would raise far too many inquiries. Yet, do not fret, we get through this predicament together..."

Rosie looked at her best friend, her eyes wide with fear. "But what shall we do for him, Alastor? If he... if he succumbs, I shall be branded a murderess!"

"Now, now, my dearest Rosie, please do not distress yourself with such thoughts..." Alastor asserted. He got down on his knees next to her husband and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. "No one will talk about you as a murderess" he promised her. "No one will ever know what happened here and no one shall cause you harm evermore." An ice-cold smile graced his lips as he stared deep into Franklin's eyes and wrapped his hand around his throat.

Franklin gasped. A mixture of blood and drool gushed from his mouth, snot ran from his nose and spread across his chin. His eyes bulged out of the sockets of his skull as Alastor firmly squeezed his throat. Deep crimson color built in his face, Franklin spat and spluttered blood. Alastor stared him straight in the eyes with a gleaming grin as the last of his life drained from them.

A low laugh escaped Alastor, he smiled in satisfaction, as he rose quickly and kicked the lifeless body on the ground one last time for good measure with the tip of his boot.

Franklin was dead.

"Rosie? Are you all right?" Alastor asked carefully.

"Yes, thanks to you... I am truly grateful, Alastor..." Rosie sniffled. She wiped the last of her tears away with the sleeve of her dress.

"I-I... I cannot fathom what I would have done without you. The fear was overwhelming, yet now you are here, and it seems as though all could be well once more..."

"Indeed, all shall be well," Alastor assured her.

His best friend looked up at him silently as he got down on his knees in front of her, regardless of the pool of blood. He cupped her cheeks with his bloody hands. "What should we do with his body now?" she wanted to know calmly. "I surely cannot bury Franklin in the flower garden. Would that not be the first place they would search?" She scrunched her nose up, still sniffling. "Moreover, I fear his decomposing remains would mar my roses..."

"Hm... Perhaps I am aware of a more covert method to ensure he 'vanishes'..." Alastor murmured, lost in his thoughts as the last tears escaped Rosie's eyes and the salt water mixed with the blood on her cheeks. Carefully, his fingertips wiped over her cheekbones. "Hm," he hummed with delight as he licked his bloody fingertips.

Suddenly the expression in Rosie's eyes changed, her gaze became hungry. Saliva collected in the corner of her mouth as her tongue licked over her lips. Her fingernails dug firmly into Alastor's flesh as her cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and she turned his palm towards her. Then slowly, her tongue began to lick over his bloodied hands.

"Are you still in possession of the recipe for jambalaya I shared with you, the one from my mother, my dearest Rosie?" Alastor asked.

"Yes, but the quantity of meat would be excessive for our consumption," Rosie added with a deep frown. She cast a cursory glance at the calendar on the kitchen wall. "We're lucky!" she said cheerfully. "Fortuitously, the elementary school is slated to host a summer festival this weekend. Franklin was to be the guest of honor, and the committee had requested I contribute a culinary dish or dessert. I had contemplated a cake, but jambalaya might indeed be more fitting."

"That's my brave dame," Alastor stated proudly as he helped his best friend to her feet and pulled her into a tight hug. Arm in arm, they stood embraced on the sill between the cold tiles and the warm pool of blood, dancing in small circles around each other, holding each other still and silent. Their hands found one another and their fingers intertwined. In the middle of the dawn, in the warm glow of the rising sun and the stone floor at their feet, they swayed gently to the music of a song that no one but they would ever hear. They hummed to the melody that the wailing wind sang for them alone. The horrors were forgotten and for the moment the storm completely ceased its rampage. "Now, take deep breaths, Rosie. I am here for you, you are not alone. Gather the pots and pans, and I shall retrieve the necessary tools from the shed."

"Don't we make one hell of a team, Alastor?"

"Indeed, my dearest Rosie!"

[bunkershotgolf]

Callaway Apparel Launches Spring 2023 Collections - We Fit The Game

Callaway Apparel announces the launch of the men’s and women’s Spring 2023 collections.  The Spring 2023 collections offer a wide range of authentic, innovative and performance driven pieces blending enhanced styling with technically advanced fabrics.

“Performance is the heart of Callaway Apparel, incorporating game changing innovation and sustainability to authentic golf apparel,” said Oscar Feldenkreis, CEO of Perry Ellis International. “The Spring 2023 collections include exceptional variety and innovation so that golfers can look, feel and play their best, every time they step on the course.” 

Callaway Apparel’s sustainability initiatives are highlighted by its eco friendly fabrics which are manufactured with up to 30% recycled polyester made from previously used plastic bottles. In addition, Callaway has infused the collection with a wide variety of new and improved performance features including its re-engineered SWING TECH™, Opti-Dri™, UPF Block, Aquapel water repellence, Polygiene antibacterial, Engineered Ventilation and more. “By incorporating game-changing innovation and sustainable materials, our focus for Spring 2023 was to provide golfers exceptional products from a technically superior authentic golf brand,” added Feldenkreis.

Men’s Collection Highlights

The Men’s collection is inspired by artisanal craftsmanship with prints and patterns having an organic and natural aesthetic. Ventilated details, engineered seams, and stretch constructions are vital to the collection, making every piece multi-functional and extremely comfortable. Highlights include:

●      Conversational Prints

●      Essential Knits including Soft Touch

●      New Swing Tech Pants

Women’s Collection Highlights

The Spring 23 women’s collection is inspired by a trend called ‘Joyful Expression’ encompassing bold patterns in an aesthetic that is sporty, lively and joyful. Design details like Callaway Chev seams, engineered ventilation and entwined contrasts add feminine touches to the collection. Additionally many of the pieces incorporate new sun protection fabrication endorsed by the Skin Cancer Foundation. Above all, they create trademark details and enhanced comfort for the Callaway player. Versatility and multi-functionality are key to every golfer’s wardrobe.  Key pieces include:

●      Elevated Essentials with V-Placket Color Block Polos

●      Core Performance Dresses

●       Sun Protection & Lightweight Layering

About Callaway Apparel     

At Callaway® Apparel, we celebrate golf’s rich heritage by creating products that honor its past while defining its future. Callaway® Apparel is the ultimate combination of golf authenticity, classic styling and technically advanced construction because apparel that offers quality, performance, and functionality is as important to golfers as the equipment they use.

Callaway® Apparel men’s and women’s golf apparel is licensed and developed by Perry Ellis International, Inc., a global leader in fashion apparel and is available at: www.callawayapparel.com, select retailers and leading golf and country clubs worldwide.

About Perry Ellis International

Perry Ellis International, Inc. is a leading designer, distributor, and licensor of a broad line of high quality men’s and women’s apparel, accessories, and fragrances. The company’s collection of dress and casual shirts, golf sportswear, sweaters, dress pants, casual pants and shorts, jeans wear, active wear, dresses, and men’s and women’s swimwear is available through all major levels of retail distribution. The company, through its wholly owned subsidiaries, owns a portfolio of nationally and internationally recognized brands, including: Perry Ellis®, An Original Penguin by Munsingwear®, Laundry by Shelli Segal®, Rafaella®, Cubavera®, Ben Hogan®, Savane®, Grand Slam®, John Henry®, Manhattan®, Axist® and Farah®. The company enhances its roster of brands by licensing trademarks from third parties, including: Nike® for swimwear, and Callaway®, PGA TOUR®, and Jack Nicklaus® for golf apparel.  Additional information on the company is available at www.pery.com

[golfgifts4u]

Score a Hole-in-One with Our Thoughtfully Curated Golf Gift Bundles for Parents

Golf is more than just a sport; it's a passion that brings joy, camaraderie, and a chance to connect with nature. If your parents are avid golfers, you understand the excitement they feel when they step onto the green. So why not surprise them with a golf gift bundle that celebrates their love for the game? At GolfGifts4U, we have curated a selection of Mom and Dad Gift Bundles that are sure to make their hearts skip a beat.

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The Golf Cart Essentials Bundle: Make your parents' time on the golf cart even more enjoyable with this thoughtful gift bundle. It includes a sturdy golf cart cooler bag to keep their drinks refreshingly cold, a golf cart phone mount for convenient access to their favorite apps and GPS, and a golf cart seat blanket for added comfort during those chilly mornings. This bundle is a game-changer for parents who love to cruise around the course.

The Golf-themed Apparel Bundle: Help your parents make a fashion statement on and off the course with this trendy apparel bundle. It includes a stylish golf polo shirt made from breathable fabric, a sleek golf cap to shield them from the sun, and a cozy golf-themed sweater for those cooler days. This bundle is a fantastic way for your parents to showcase their love for golf with every outfit they wear.

The Golf Travel Bundle: If your parents enjoy golfing getaways, this bundle is the perfect companion for their adventures. It features a durable golf travel bag to protect their clubs, a compact golf shoe bag to keep their footwear organized, and a travel-size golf umbrella to shield them from unexpected showers. With this bundle, your parents will be ready to explore new golf courses with ease.

When it comes to celebrating your golf-loving parents, these gift bundles from GolfGifts4U offer a convenient and thoughtful way to express your love and appreciation. Each bundle is carefully curated to cater to their specific needs and interests, ensuring that they receive items they will truly cherish.

So, whether it's their birthdays, anniversaries, or just a surprise gesture to show your gratitude, make their golfing experience even more special with these amazing Mom and Dad Gift Bundles. Let your parents know that their passion for golf is something you wholeheartedly support and celebrate.

[mariacallous]

In June, as the sun set on Dublin, Ohio, a well-to-do suburb of Columbus, several dozen people dressed in golf shirts and floral shifts filed into a small auditorium to listen to a talk by a new neighbor. Vivek Ramaswamy, a thirty-seven-year-old entrepreneur, had settled in the area with his wife and toddler son after making a large fortune as the founder of a biotech company. Now, thanks to dozens of appearances on Fox News to criticize “cultural totalitarianism” enforced by liberal élites, he was closing in on fame as a conservative pundit. In the past year, he had cast aspersions on Black Lives Matter and “the death of merit”; mask mandates and U.S.-border protection; public-school curricula and the actor Jussie Smollett. All the flame-throwing had established him, in the words of one anchor, as the network’s “woke and cancel-culture guru.”

Ramaswamy has perfect-looking teeth, a high forehead, and a thick shock of hair that rises into a swirl at his crown. Out on the sidewalk, he’d hastily replaced his flip-flops with sneakers, in a nod to formality. At the front of the auditorium, perched on a stool, he spoke into his microphone with a showman’s brio, as if addressing a far larger crowd. He enjoyed forums like this, “where there’s no agenda, there’s no objective, other than to create spaces for open conversation, for people to be free to say, and feel free to say, the kinds of things that they might have wanted to say behind closed doors,” he said, smiling brightly. The true test of the strength of a democracy was not, he argued, how many people voted. It was “the percentage of people who feel free to say what they actually think, in public.”

One of the opinions he wished to air to those assembled was that “woke-ism”—a belief system that Ramaswamy sees as an insidious secular creed—has overtaken religious faith, patriotism, and the work ethic as a key American value. Corporate virtue-signalling and hypocrisy are everywhere, he told the audience. “Let’s muse about the racially disparate impact of climate change as you fly on a private jet to Davos,” he said, to laughter from the nearly all-white crowd. C.E.O.s were recruiting “token” people of color for their boards in the name of diversity while refusing to seek out diverse points of view. The Walt Disney Company was self-righteously protesting Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” law after cutting deals with the repressive Chinese government to film footage for “Mulan” in Xinjiang.

To Ramaswamy, such corporate do-gooderism—and especially environmental, social, and governance investing, known as E.S.G.—is a smoke screen designed to distract from the less virtuous things that companies do to make money. Amazon donates to organizations that aid Black communities while firing workers trying to unionize. Nike produces advertisements with the civil-rights activist and former N.F.L. quarterback Colin Kaepernick while exploiting workers in Asia. Many such companies, he intimated to the audience, were building tacit alliances with the Democratic élite.

That corporations are given to hypocrisy is hardly a novel observation. But Ramaswamy’s twist on the familiar critique, which he laid out last year in a book entitled “Woke, Inc.: Inside Corporate America’s Social Justice Scam,” is to place E.S.G. investing at asset-management firms like BlackRock, Vanguard, and State Street at the center of what ails American life. He calls this kind of socially conscious investing—not political corruption or dark money, not election denialism, not disinformation—the gravest danger that American democracy faces today. E.S.G., he told his audience, lets the private sector “do through the back door what our government couldn’t directly get done through the front door.”

The three top asset-management firms collectively hold more than twenty trillion dollars in retirement funds and other capital, about the same as the national gross domestic product. And the stocks that the firms control give them extraordinary influence over almost every public company in the world. “It’s not a right-leaning issue, it’s not a left-leaning issue,” he said. Private-sector attempts to address climate change are not only laughably insincere, he argued; they’re encroaching on work that should be done by the government—and only if the citizens agree.

Ramaswamy’s crusade against E.S.G. is based on a pair of seemingly contradictory ideas: that attempts by companies to address societal problems are cynical and ineffective, and that those attempts also pose an existential threat to the democratic process. But such inconsistencies are often obscured by Ramaswamy’s frictionless oratorical style—a brisk patter, peppered with references to Hobbes and Hayek, that wends toward well-modulated moments of outrage. In Dublin, his words had gray and blond heads bobbing in agreement.

Ramaswamy’s mother worked as a geriatric psychiatrist; his father was an engineer and a patent lawyer at General Electric. They came to the U.S. from South India before Vivek was born, in 1985. Growing up in the Cincinnati area, Vivek established himself as an overachiever: an accomplished pianist, a nationally ranked tennis player, and the valedictorian of his Jesuit high school. He graduated from Harvard College and Yale Law School, worked at a hedge fund, then started a pharmaceutical company, Roivant Sciences, where he made hundreds of millions of dollars. That a chunk of this wealth derived from a failed effort to bring an Alzheimer’s drug to market is something he doesn’t dwell on in speeches.

After Ramaswamy emerged from that failure, his cutting one-liners, which he deployed in “Woke, Inc.” and on Twitter, attracted notice at Fox News, and last year he left his pharmaceutical venture behind. His mother, Geetha, had never heard of Tucker Carlson or watched Fox News before her son started showing up on the network. “I wish he could be on other channels as well,” she told me. But, to her chagrin (and to his, though he’s slower to admit it), other networks weren’t biting.

In recent years, Ramaswamy has contemplated a move into politics—something he discussed with a friend from law school, J. D. Vance, a venture capitalist who was just elected to the U.S. Senate in Ohio. But if the event in Dublin, organized by a marketing executive, felt vaguely like a campaign stop, Ramaswamy was there to promote more than policy ideas. Although he’d begun his talk by saying “there’s no agenda,” it eventually turned into a sales pitch for an investment company he’d just started. The company, Strive Asset Management, had the financial backing of the billionaire Peter Thiel, Vance’s V.C. firm, and other investors, and intended to compete with BlackRock and its peers. Although Ramaswamy was still hiring and searching for office space, he told the audience that Strive would soon offer investment funds, at fees competitive with BlackRock’s, that wouldn’t ask the companies it invested in to “push political agendas.” It would ask them only to deliver quality products and services and to make money for shareholders.

As the talk concluded, anti-woke investing didn’t appear to be foremost on attendees’ minds. Two women descended on Ramaswamy with smiles as broad as his own. They’d founded their own K-12 school after criticizing what was being taught at their children’s private school. They planned to center virtue and patriotism in their new curriculum. Would Ramaswamy like to meet with them to discuss it further? (He would.) Two more women approached: would he attend their “Freedom Rally”? (He was supportive but noncommittal.) A man with a thick and bristly mustache pulled in close, stared him in the eyes, and asked, “When’s the last time you read ‘The Art of War’?” (“Uh, high school?”) Ramaswamy turned away to relieve his wife, Apoorva, a doctor who was eight and a half months pregnant, of their restless two-year-old son. By the time he turned back, a woman in a bright-red top was confiding that she, too, was concerned about the local schools. As Ramaswamy’s son dipped his hand in a cup of water and appeared ready to burst into tears, the woman said, “We’ve worked so hard to get rid of the gender-identity stuff. Now we want to . . .”

A shadow flickered across Ramaswamy’s face. “Don’t talk about that so much,” he told her while also signalling to his wife and a body man who was travelling with him that it was time to move on. “Talk about what you want to replace it with instead—civic education, American history, patriotism.”

The term “woke,” which dates back nearly a century, was initially used in Black communities to describe a raising of consciousness and has since become a catchall denoting awareness of a range of social-justice issues. In recent years, “wokeness” has also become, in conservative circles, a subject of suspicion and ridicule: shorthand for performative righteousness, like “political correctness” before it. Opposition to woke principles has become a business opportunity, too. A former Green Beret has found success with a “patriotic” coffee brand, Black Rifle, based in Salt Lake City. The conservative commentator Sara Gonzales founded American Beauty, a cosmetics company “for women who love America.” (Lipstick shades include Freedom Fighter and Triggered.) Vanessa Santos, who runs a right-leaning public-relations firm called Red Renegade PR, told me that the market for anti-woke goods is niche but ardent. “People want to buy something that’s patriotic,” Santos told me, and “they want to know the kind of person who’s behind the product.”

Ramaswamy’s Strive isn’t even the only “anti-woke” asset-management firm to launch in the past few years. In 2020, the money managers William Flaig and Tom Carter started the American Conservative Values E.T.F., a fund that boycotts companies deemed to be supporting a liberal agenda. 2ndVote Funds, which offers two products and emphasizes conservative and faith-based values, appeared the same year. Last month, Strive surpassed both outfits in size, announcing that it had more than five hundred million dollars in investment assets after its first three months.

What Strive sells are E.T.F.s—exchange-traded funds, which consist of a basket of stocks or bonds, similar to a mutual fund. The first E.T.F. that the firm introduced invests in energy companies. It was soon followed by an E.T.F. that focusses on the semiconductor industry. Strive also began a publicity campaign targeting seven companies—Amazon, Apple, Chevron, Citigroup, Disney, ExxonMobil, and Home Depot—that Ramaswamy claims would be more profitable if they abandoned their E.S.G. goals.

The creation of firms like Ramaswamy’s represents a countermovement to a phenomenon that itself was a countermovement. E.S.G. investing arose in part as a response to the concept of shareholder primacy, which Milton Friedman famously articulated in a 1970 essay in the Times. Corporations should not be concerned with the public interest, such as reducing discrimination and pollution, he argued. Managers’ only duty was to maximize the profits of shareholders, the company’s true owners—an idea that, for obvious reasons, was instantly appealing to many investors.

The opposing argument, which came to be known as stakeholder capitalism, contended that when companies made decisions they had a responsibility—financial as well as ethical—to everyone affected by their dealings. As such, they might weigh factors other than profit, such as environmental impacts and the well-being of workers and communities. The term “E.S.G.” was first formally proposed in a 2004 U. N. Global Compact report. Specific ways of measuring a company’s E.S.G. performance have since been refined into a scoring system. Pension-fund managers, for example, might use the scores to evaluate long-term risks such as climate change and demographic shifts, to avoid squandering the money of workers who would depend on their retirement funds in the future. Some companies game their E.S.G. scores and exaggerate their “responsible” choices as a cynical marketing strategy. But even companies that take the goals seriously aren’t motivated primarily by virtue. Rebecca Henderson, a Harvard Business School professor who consults with companies on sustainability, said, “I promise you, these companies want to make money.” But, she added, executives are also eager to stay viable in a future in which carbon might be taxed and more employees and consumers will avoid companies that pollute heedlessly or mistreat their workers.

Larry Fink, BlackRock’s C.E.O. and a proponent of E.S.G. investing, is a favorite target of Ramaswamy. As a shepherd of around eight trillion dollars in investor money, Fink has urged companies to adopt plans to become carbon neutral and ultimately transition to a post-carbon economy. Ramaswamy contends, without citing specific evidence, that Fink is collaborating with political élites on such matters: promoting environmental policies that they have failed to push through Congress. He has attacked Fink’s supposed liberal agenda so assiduously that a newcomer to U.S. politics might, after imbibing conservative media, mistake the BlackRock C.E.O.—one of the most powerful men on Wall Street—for a darling of the American left.

BlackRock’s business is more complicated than Ramaswamy suggests. For instance, not all of its funds are E.S.G.-based. (A company spokesperson notes that less than six per cent of its assets under management are in “dedicated sustainable investing strategies.”) Last year, BlackRock announced that it would allow investors in some of its funds to participate in company shareholder votes on matters such as executive compensation and climate policies, rather than BlackRock voting on their behalf.

Some skeptics of Ramaswamy speculate that, for all his insinuations about Fink’s alliances, he’s part of a well-established campaign that is guided by right-wing mega-donors and is intent on sabotaging climate-change measures. Ramaswamy dismisses such notions; he’s down, he says, with the “grassroots” people—conservative patriots who are fuelling anti-E.S.G. backlash that has reached Republican-controlled legislatures from Texas to West Virginia. In October, Louisiana announced that it would withdraw nearly eight hundred million dollars from BlackRock. Similarly, Florida later declared that it would divest two billion dollars from the company.

Bill Ackman, the founder of Pershing Square Capital, a fifteen-billion-dollar hedge fund, was, behind Thiel and his affiliates, the second-biggest seed investor in Strive. Still, he told me, he disagrees with much of what Ramaswamy says: “My experience, at least with the companies we know, is that being thoughtful with everything from packaging to environmental considerations is generally something that’s good for business. If Exxon were smarter, they probably should have made some earlier-stage investments. They should have put up capital in the first round of Tesla.” Nonetheless, Ackman appreciates Ramaswamy’s emphasis on what he thinks is an unhealthy concentration of capital in the asset-management industry. “A world in which three fund managers are controlling corporate America is not a world that’s good for America,” Ackman said. Because BlackRock and its competitors make most of their money through fees, he said, and don’t own the stock they control on behalf of their investors, they have little at stake in the outcome of policies that they’re promoting.

Tariq Fancy, who until 2019 worked as BlackRock’s global chief investment officer for sustainable investing, has doubts about both Ramaswamy and E.S.G. He has concluded that sustainable investing, at least as BlackRock was practicing it, is counterproductive. E.S.G. creates an illusion of progress that allows people to avoid harder, more meaningful ways of addressing climate change and other problems. He said that most E.S.G. investing (which he differentiated from corporations trying to make themselves “greener”) takes the form of divestment—choosing not to put money in, say, fossil-fuel companies. Such discrete redirections of resources, he suggests, are unlikely to build into movements powerful enough to provoke broad policy change. “Look at the Middle East,” Fancy said. “They’d talk about not having investments in alcohol, but they never thought that it would stop people in France from drinking wine.” He also noted that Ramaswamy and other conservatives say that the government, not people like Larry Fink, should address climate change, but fail to acknowledge that the political and regulatory process has been distorted by corporate interests. “If they were serious, they would follow the argument to its natural conclusion,” he said. “You would want to get money out of politics. ” The more likely reality, Fancy believes, is that the Ramaswamys and Thiels of the world would prefer to see little to no government action on climate change, labor practices, diversity in boardrooms, or other issues.

When I asked Ramaswamy why he ignores how money in politics compromises the regulatory and legislative process, the issue seemed to bore him. People had been fretting about getting money out of politics for years, he said. His Larry-Fink-as-left-wing-bogeyman theory, by contrast, felt fresh.

But didn’t the enormous concentration of wealth in the hands of a few pose a serious threat to democracy? Not necessarily, he replied. “You can buy your yachts, you can buy your houses, you can buy your nice cars, but you shouldn’t be able to buy a greater share of voice as a citizen,” he said. The ultra-wealthy did buy more of a voice, I pointed out, by influencing the political process at every level, from choosing the President and hiring lobbyists who write legislation to pouring money into school-board elections. He picked up his phone, as if to seek out a more interesting conversation. “I just don’t think that’s the biggest problem.”

Shortly after Ramaswamy was born, his family commissioned his horoscope, which predicted that he was destined for greatness. He would later say that his family bestowed on him, their firstborn, a sense of “deep-seated superiority” and an expectation that he would outperform the “average mediocre Joes” with whom he went to school. Geetha told me that she and her husband, known as V. G., believed that Vivek and his younger brother, Shankar, as children of immigrants, would have to work harder to succeed than the children of American-born parents. “There are a lot of things we didn’t know, being from India,” she said.

In eighth grade, at a large and economically diverse public school, Vivek was “roughed up” and pushed down the stairs by a Black student. An injured hip required surgery, and his parents decided to enroll him in a private preparatory school. When I first asked Ramaswamy if that incident influenced his views on race, he seemed not to have thought much about it. But some days afterward he wondered aloud if the experience had precipitated his doubt that members of one underrepresented group had a unique claim on being discriminated against: “All human beings can be on both the giving and receiving end of that.”

A strain of animus toward Black Americans runs through much of Ramaswamy’s public commentary. After a foundation that has been linked to Black Lives Matter was discovered to have spent donations on high-end real estate, he started to quip that B.L.M. should stand for “Big Lavish Mansions.” In our conversations, he could be similarly antagonistic, as when he discussed how today’s civil-rights activists—a group he defined as comprising Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and Ibram X. Kendi—had “sold out” to corporate America. He couldn’t say exactly how Kendi had sold out, but he believed that Jackson, the Baptist minister and former Presidential candidate, who is now in his eighties, had profiteered on his standing as a civil-rights leader. Ramaswamy likened this to extortion, but later clarified that the extortion attempts he meant to criticize were racial-equity audits conducted by the former Attorneys General Eric Holder and Loretta Lynch and their law firms. Corporations such as Starbucks and Verizon, he said, felt that to avoid accusations of racism they had to hire the firms, often at great expense, to assess their diversity policies.

“I definitely find the idea of systemic racism revolting,” Ramaswamy told me. He allowed that it had existed in the U.S. at moments in the past, offering the era of slavery as one example. But racism was atrophying, he said, so societal goods should not be unevenly distributed on racial grounds. He mentioned a white, heavyset conservative male classmate at Harvard who was considered uncool, and argued that the social pecking order was stacked against him “more than some athletic Black kid who came and got a place on the basketball team.” Ramaswamy blamed affirmative action and similar policies for forcing élite institutions to lower their standards, and said that the current narrative of systemic racism creates more racism than would otherwise exist. “Affirmative action is the single biggest form of institutionalized racism in America today,” he concluded.

Ramaswamy’s political awakening began not at home but in the company of a conservative-Christian piano teacher with whom he took private lessons from elementary through high school. As he worked his way from the easy Bach preludes to Mozart’s “Rondo Alla Turca,” the teacher, who became something of a godmother, railed against Hillary Clinton and extolled the virtues of free speech, patriotism, and Ronald Reagan.

A conservatism that puts its faith in unfettered markets would come to inform even Ramaswamy’s understanding of caste relations in the Indian state of Kerala, where he spent summers with his family. Ramaswamy’s family is Brahmin, the highest caste in the Hindu hierarchy. In “Woke, Inc.,” he maintains that “American-style capitalism” is repairing the damage of that pernicious system, writing approvingly that a “lower-caste guy” in India can now deliver Domino’s pizza and “my family tips him to show their appreciation.”

At Harvard, where he majored in biology, Ramaswamy joined the South Asian Association but was more interested in American politics. Identifying as a libertarian, he became president of the Harvard Political Union. He also performed Eminem covers and original free-market-themed rap songs as a kind of alter ego called Da Vek. Paul Davis, who lived in a dorm with Ramaswamy and later worked with him at his pharmaceutical company, said, “He knows his views and style rubbed some people the wrong way, but he didn’t care.”

At the time, Ramaswamy was irritated by what he saw as groupthink all around him. One of his classmates’ campaigns, a push to raise wages for janitors on campus, prompted him to lash out in the Harvard Crimson. The article was an early demonstration of his glee at puncturing what he sees as liberal pieties. Those supporting a wage increase, he wrote, had inadvertently linked the “fundamental human worth” of the workers they were championing to the paychecks they received. True, a bigger paycheck might give the janitors more financial stability. But the higher pay—more than “the laws of supply and demand would require,” he claimed—would signify that Harvard students felt sorry for the janitors. This would harm the janitors in other ways, as “a condescending strain of sympathy subtly yet naturally replaces the mutual human respect that otherwise would have existed.”

The summer after Ramaswamy’s sophomore year, he took an internship at a nine-billion-dollar hedge fund called Amaranth Advisors. He thought that working in the firm’s biotech division, where a team of doctors and scientists evaluated stocks for the firm to invest in, might be more exciting than working in a lab. “Woke, Inc.” records his disillusionment with the experience. He recalls Amaranth’s founder, Nicholas Maounis, explaining to the summer interns that the purpose of a hedge fund was “to turn a pile of money into an even bigger pile of money.” Ramaswamy joined a company-sponsored cruise, where he says he came to the attention of the firm’s big traders by winning a poker tournament. After that, they began taking him to extravagant restaurants and clubs with bottle service—indulgences subsidized by investor fees. “Even at the age of nineteen, it struck me as, like, this is not the way a company should be,” he said. The next year, after one of the firm’s traders reportedly lost several billion dollars in a week betting on natural-gas futures, Amaranth collapsed. (Maounis, through legal counsel at his new firm, Verition Fund Management, said that he recollected neither Ramaswamy nor the events he related.)

Ramaswamy’s next summer internship, another disappointment, was at Goldman Sachs. He describes the inner workings of the firm as a charade, with jaded bankers in hand-tailored dress shirts doing little while making a show of how busy they were. He was especially struck by what was often called Service Day, when employees engaged in volunteer projects around the city. One day, he recalled, he and some co-workers gathered at a park in Harlem for a tree-planting session. A Goldman boss showed up in Gucci boots, told the employees to take photographs to document their presence, and then split. The group reconvened shortly afterward at a bar. (A former Goldman executive who participated in the volunteer program for nearly two decades told me that, although the flavor of the episode seemed credible, it was hard to imagine an entire group abandoning a project before starting.)

When Ramaswamy remarked to a colleague that it should be called Social Day, not Service Day, the colleague asked him if he’d ever heard of the Golden Rule. To treat others as one wished to be treated, Ramaswamy offered. “No,” the colleague told him. “He who has the gold makes the rules.”

After graduating from Harvard, Ramaswamy took a job as a biotech-stock analyst at QVT, a hedge fund in New York City led by physicists he considered brilliant. He learned about financial engineering and how to evaluate investment opportunities, but after a couple of years he got restless. In 2010, he spent a day auditing classes at Yale Law School, where he’d previously deferred enrollment. Sitting in on a criminal-law course taught by Jed Rubenfeld, Ramaswamy was mesmerized.

“I am inherently interested in questions of justice,” he told me. “It was a disciplined way to explore and figure out what I believed about things. I thought, I have to do this.” While continuing to work at QVT, he enrolled at the law school. In the years he was there, he said, he made around ten million dollars. At Yale, he established important connections: with Vance, a fellow Cincinnati Bengals fan; Thiel, who hosted an intimate lunch seminar for select students, and who later staked him on a venture helping senior citizens access Medicare; and his future wife, Apoorva, who lived across the way from him while attending medical school.

Ramaswamy stayed at the hedge-fund job after getting his law degree, and also took a standup-comedy class. The course was “traumatizing,” he said—he wasn’t any good. But he did learn a trick that stuck: carrying around a notebook to capture passing thoughts or jokes as soon as they arose. While researching biotech companies for QVT, he began filling the notebook with ideas and with impressions of executives he met. In 2014, these scribblings became the basis for Roivant, his pharmaceutical venture. It was a fine time to start a company. Venture-capital investors were flush with cash and searching for ambitious young men with startups that they could invest in.

The pharmaceutical-development process, which involves moving drugs through rounds of testing and approvals, is slow, and drugs are often abandoned along the way. Sometimes a drug doesn’t work. Other times, the decision to drop a product is economic: executives determine that the drug, no matter how effective, won’t be profitable, or won’t align with their business strategy. Ramaswamy’s idea was that Roivant could license drugs that had been left languishing, take them through the rest of the development process, and share the proceeds with the original manufacturer.

Ramaswamy had no experience running a company. Nonetheless, he’d soon declare that Roivant would be the “Berkshire Hathaway of drug development.” He raised approximately ninety-three million dollars from investors, among them QVT. Roivant had around ten employees at the start, including Ramaswamy’s mother and brother, and was organized in the spirit of a hedge fund, with subsidiaries that each specialized in a single medical issue, such as women’s health or urology. Scientists and pharmaceutical experts hired for a subsidiary were offered equity in the company as an incentive to leave jobs at more established drugmakers. Ramaswamy’s advisory board included several well-known Democrats, including Tom Daschle, the former Senate Majority Leader; Kathleen Sebelius, the former Secretary of Health and Human Services under President Barack Obama; and Donald Berwick, the former administrator of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services.

Berwick was attracted to Roivant, he told me, because of its commitment to improving access to critical medicines. “I thought he had latched on to an important problem in that there are important drugs that don’t get developed because they don’t fit in the business model of the company, so these assets stay on the shelf,” Berwick said. “His idea was to get them off the shelf by making them attractive. ” In discussions with Ramaswamy, “politics never came up,” Berwick said. What the founder did talk about was pricing drugs reasonably so that they’d be accessible to patients who needed them.

At the end of 2014, Roivant acquired one of its first drugs, an experimental Alzheimer’s medication, from GlaxoSmithKline, for five million dollars up front. There is no effective treatment for Alzheimer’s, and drug companies have spent billions of dollars trying to develop one. Geetha Ramaswamy had worked for pharmaceutical companies that were developing treatments for Alzheimer’s and other cognitive disorders, and had clinical expertise that would be valuable to her son’s company. The drug that Roivant bought, known as SB-742457, had been shelved even though in early trial phases it had shown signs of reversing mental decline when paired with an older drug called Aricept. Ramaswamy’s company would owe G.S.K. a 12.5-per-cent royalty on net sales and other possible payments should it manage to bring SB-742457 to market.

In 2015, the biotech industry was in the midst of a boom—or, some might say, a bubble. Stock prices had been skyrocketing in an environment full of hype. Ramaswamy took advantage of the moment. He created a subsidiary in Bermuda to own the drug, and prepared to sell shares to the public before the medication, in combination with Aricept, began the pivotal Phase III clinical trial.

That June, the subsidiary, Axovant, raised more than three hundred million dollars through an initial public offering—a remarkable amount given that the subsidiary’s value was based solely on the potential of one untested drug. As the drug, since renamed intepirdine, proceeded through the clinical trial, with around thirteen hundred patients, Forbes put Ramaswamy on its cover and called him “The 30-Year-Old CEO Conjuring Drug Companies from Thin Air.” In the accompanying article, Ramaswamy declared, “This will be the highest return on investment endeavor ever taken up in the pharmaceutical industry.” The following year, Forbes named him one of the richest entrepreneurs in America under the age of forty. But in September, 2017, with Axovant reportedly valued at around $2.6 billion, Ramaswamy received an unpleasant phone call. Intepirdine was a bust. It had failed to meaningfully improve the health or cognition of the patients in the clinical trial.

“It felt humiliating,” Ramaswamy told me. Roivant had acquired another promising drug, to treat prostate cancer, that, when used in combination with a second drug, seemed to ease symptoms of uterine fibroids and endometriosis. But the prostate medication was years away from coming to market. “I’d let people down. I took it hard,” he said. Even now, he says, the wounds from the fiasco aren’t fully healed. However, he’s come up with a positive spin on it: “My latitude for being willing to fail big is a lot higher than it was then.”

In the summer of 2019, the Business Roundtable, an association of more than two hundred C.E.O.s of the largest companies in the country, issued a new statement of corporate responsibility, saying that businesses should aim to operate ethically in addition to delivering profits to their shareholders. The statement was not binding for members, but it reflected anxieties about wealth inequality and about the declining financial security of the middle class. Around that time, individual companies, from Airbnb to Citigroup, issued their own statements on moral obligations. In January, 2020, at the World Economic Forum in Davos, David Solomon, the C.E.O. of Goldman Sachs, announced that the firm, in its U.S. and Western European markets, would no longer underwrite initial public offerings for companies whose boards lacked at least one “diverse” member. (That number is now two.)

Ramaswamy’s notebook began filling up again. “Everyone was saying the exact same thing at the exact same time, and it got under my skin,” he said. He submitted an op-ed to the Wall Street Journal in which he denounced “stakeholder capitalism” for advising powerful companies “to implement the social goals that their CEOs want to push.” These were issues that should be decided by the citizenry, he wrote, through voting and policymaking. After the article ran, Ramaswamy relished the impact that he seemed to be having. “It wasn’t like being at a dinner party, where I’m just sharing my opinions,” he told me. “If I wasn’t the one making that argument, I wasn’t sure if anyone else would be taking that on. That was enjoyable, but it also came with some sense of responsibility. ”

A book seemed like a natural next step. Seeking advice, he turned to Rubenfeld and his wife, Amy Chua, who is also a professor at Yale Law School and whose book “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother,” about spurring her two daughters to become overachievers, had been a best-seller. (Chua had also mentored Vance at Yale and advised him on the writing of his memoir, “Hillbilly Elegy.”) Around the time they met, Rubenfeld was under investigation by Yale for sexual harassment—a charge that he denies and which led to a two-year suspension from the faculty. He heard out Ramaswamy’s somewhat scattered ideas and suggested a tauter study of capitalism, democracy, and the changing culture of the American workplace. Rubenfeld said of Ramaswamy, “He is one of the most skilled people I know in terms of listening to criticism and learning from it.” Ramaswamy accepted the advice, began writing trenchantly about his experiences in the Ivy League and the corporate world, and eventually took his proposal to a publisher of conservative authors, Center Street.

In May, 2020, as he was working on the manuscript, George Floyd was murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, and cities across the country erupted with protests. Corporate executives began issuing statements expressing sympathy and support for racial justice. (A photo circulated of Jamie Dimon, the C.E.O. of JPMorgan Chase, kneeling in apparent solidarity.) Ramaswamy, unsurprisingly, was annoyed. “The murder of George Floyd was tragic,” he wrote in “Woke, Inc.,” “but it was also tragic that thousands of people of all races died of diseases every day that could be better treated by a broken health-care system.” Employees at Roivant, too, wanted Ramaswamy to issue a statement of support for Black Lives Matter. Instead, he sent a company-wide e-mail that acknowledged the “painful” week and the protests, and advised his staff to “stay safe.” This did not go over well. A colleague accused him of being “tone-deaf,” and many of the young people Roivant had recruited demanded to know how the company was addressing systemic racism in its subsidiaries. He later wrote, “There was something curious to me about corporate America’s fixation on the BLM movement, even as other obvious injustices continued to abound. I was personally appalled by China’s persecution of its Uighur population.” But, he went on, “none of my employees or directors expressed concern to me about these human rights violations.”

In the aftermath of the January 6th attack on the Capitol by supporters of President Donald Trump, Ramaswamy co-authored a Wall Street Journal op-ed with Rubenfeld. They called the assault on the Capitol “disgraceful,” but sounded more exercised that Twitter, Facebook, and other tech companies had suspended Trump’s accounts on the ground that he had incited violence. The op-ed contended that the tech companies’ decisions about whom to ban were politically motivated.

Members of Roivant’s advisory board were following Ramaswamy’s new career as a cultural critic, and some were distressed. In Berwick’s view, Tucker Carlson and Fox News were toying with American democracy. Moreover, Berwick thought, Ramaswamy’s regular public statements about how corporations did not exist to deliver social benefits ran counter to Roivant’s original mission—to bring reasonably priced medicines to people who needed them.

The day after the Journal piece appeared online, Berwick resigned from Roivant’s advisory board. Daschle and Sebelius quit, too. Ramaswamy was startled by the departures, particularly Berwick’s, but he was unrepentant. A week and a half later, he went on Carlson’s show to call on President Joe Biden to pressure Twitter to reinstate Trump.

“To me, he’s assuming a status quo that does not exist,” Berwick said. “Democracy is so under the gun right now. And the very forces that he’s talking about, these moneyed forces, are part of the reason. His view is they should get out of the political scene entirely, and my view is they’re in it—the money’s there.”

Just a few weeks after January 6th, Ramaswamy announced that he would step down from the business he’d founded to focus full time on his writing and political interests. Roivant had recovered from its Alzheimer’s-drug failure, and he told me he realized that he “couldn’t be a free-speaking citizen without hurting the company.” He was also mulling a run for the Senate seat in Ohio held by Rob Portman, who said that he would not seek reëlection, in large part because of the polarization in Washington.

The Republican Party was perennially in need of candidates of color to diversify its ranks—especially those with stage presence and a good origin story. Ramaswamy was invited to a dinner attended by Kevin McCarthy, the House Minority Leader, and took the opportunity to raise the subject of his political future. He recalls McCarthy saying that he could do more good as a thought leader for the Party than as a junior member of Congress. Others he consulted suggested that a life in politics would be a source of misery and frustration.

Ramaswamy was also casting about for another business to start—maybe an anti-woke shoe company to compete with Nike, or an anti-woke beverage company to take on Coca-Cola. But conditions seemed more propitious for an “anti-BlackRock”—something much bigger than the anti-E.S.G. companies that had already formed.

At the time, a wave of anti-E.S.G sentiment was taking hold at the local level. States including Oklahoma, Kentucky, and Texas passed bills that allowed their officials to restrict the activities of financial institutions if they were determined to be limiting their dealings with the fossil-fuel or firearm industries. The lobbying arm of the Heritage Foundation, which has received funding from the billionaire Koch brothers and other allies of the fossil-fuel industry, is an enthusiastic supporter of such anti-E.S.G. endeavors. (Ramaswamy has appeared frequently at Heritage functions.) Heritage also has ties to the State Financial Officers Foundation, a group that includes conservative state treasurers and has promoted anti-E.S.G. efforts. Ramaswamy spoke to a gathering of the group this past February. A few months later, he was collaborating with one of its rising stars, Riley Moore, the West Virginia state treasurer, on a Wall Street Journal op-ed. The piece criticized the disproportionate power of the “big three” asset managers over public companies.

Moore told me that, after he took office in January, 2021, he heard that coal, gas, and oil companies with operations in his state were struggling because some banks had made it more difficult for them to borrow money. (He declined to name any of the companies.) “I immediately started to dig in and wonder about how we could push back,” Moore said. West Virginia was one of the country’s largest energy producers, with some seventy-two thousand workers in the sector, and the industry generated millions of dollars in revenue for the state. Moore wrote to Goldman Sachs, JPMorgan, Wells Fargo, Morgan Stanley, BlackRock, and U.S. Bank, warning that they might lose state contracts should they be found to be boycotting fossil fuels.

“Everybody talks about climate change, and I get what they’re saying—maybe the climate is changing,” Moore said. “But it misses what’s measurably changing drastically in this country, and that is the question of human flourishing. We see people’s life expectancy dropping, drug addiction, people generationally doing worse than their grandparents or parents were doing. That is a huge problem, one that has to be addressed more immediately than the question of the climate changing. Here in West Virginia, that is a rich man’s problem.”

Moore added that today some West Virginia coal miners make ninety thousand dollars a year. Meanwhile, small towns and local businesses have been “gutted” by Walmart. “If they take our coal-mining jobs away in certain parts of this state, the only jobs we have left are in Walmarts,” he said. “And that’s not living.”

Some states that pass anti-E.S.G. legislation could face a new set of economic difficulties, according to a recent study by Daniel Garrett, an assistant professor of finance at Wharton, and Ivan Ivanov, a senior economist with the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago. They found that in Texas five banks paused or halted their underwriting of municipal bonds after anti-E.S.G. laws were adopted in September, 2021. The experts’ estimate suggests that a loss of competition in the market cost Texas municipalities an additional three to five hundred million dollars in interest on bonds in the first eight months.

Earlier this month, the anti-E.S.G. movement gained ground in unexpected territory. Vanguard withdrew from a large climate-finance alliance, the Net Zero Asset Managers Initiative, which aims to encourage fund companies to reach net-zero carbon targets by 2050. The company, which had been under pressure from Republican politicians, stated that it would track its own climate progress instead. Critics immediately accused the company of giving in to the anti-woke movement. Ramaswamy filed the news away as another victory.

He was also gratified, this fall, by the response to a public letter he’d sent the C.E.O. of Chevron, urging him to reject calls by BlackRock and other institutional shareholders to reduce carbon emissions and to increase investments in renewable energy. When I met Ramaswamy for dinner one night in Manhattan at his favorite Mexican restaurant, he told me he’d be meeting later that evening with Chevron’s C.F.O. Ramaswamy seemed exhilarated by the thought that he, like Larry Fink, could start telling business leaders what to do.

He’d been on a round of speaking engagements and was in the city with his body man to promote, among other things, a new book with a self-explanatory title: “Nation of Victims: Identity Politics, the Death of Merit, and the Path Back to Excellence.” As he tore into a plate of quesadillas with huitlacoche, I asked Ramaswamy if his burgeoning reputation as a conservative firebrand had taken a personal toll. He chose his words carefully. A family member no longer spoke to him, and he’d been ghosted by a close friend. Although he’d forged new relationships with conservatives, none of the connections had turned into friendships. “I feel like the public advocacy, or whatever you call what I’ve been doing in the last couple of years, has eroded more friendships than new friendships made up for it,” he said.

Although Ramaswamy delights in the visibility that his Fox News appearances bring, he wonders about the opportunities foreclosed. “I feel like I recoil when I see someone describe me as a conservative,” Ramaswamy said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a conservative. It’s just not how I would describe myself.”

Fear of the label did not stop Ramaswamy from travelling to Washington, D.C., a few weeks later to receive the Gentleman of Distinction Award at the annual gala of a right-leaning organization called the Independent Women’s Forum. The unofficial theme of the event, which took place in the great hall of a museum, seemed to be outrage about transgender athletes in women’s sports. Still, the mood in the room was exuberant. The midterms were imminent, and Republicans were anticipating big gains.

Ramaswamy had flown in from an investment conference in Las Vegas, where he had been interviewed alongside Mike Pompeo, the former Secretary of State, at an event entitled “ESG for Thee, China for Me.” Somewhere along the way, he had upgraded his footwear to black brogues, and when he took the stage he delivered a speech less folksy than the one he’d tried out months earlier, in Dublin. He shared his child-of-immigrants story; quoted Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr.; slammed E.S.G. and tech censorship; and then got to the self-mythologizing portion of the narrative—that he had stepped down from his company, where he’d been working to develop a cancer drug, to fight a new kind of cancer afflicting our culture.

“That is this new secular religion in America that says that your identity is based on your race, your gender, and your sexual orientation, full stop,” he said. “That America is a systemically racist nation. That if you’re Black you’re inherently disadvantaged. That if you’re white you’re inherently privileged.”

The following month, the Republicans’ disappointing performance in the midterms led to furious intraparty debate over whether to remain loyal to Trump or to move on. But a point of consensus seemed to be that the quality of the Party’s candidates mattered. After people started suggesting that Ramaswamy run for President, he found it hard to shake off the idea. Maybe he was the right person to unify the country around shared values—values that, at the D.C. gala, he underlined in a pounding conclusion.

“The idea that no matter who you are, or where you came from, or what your skin color is, that you can achieve anything you ever want in this country, with your own hard work, your own commitment, and your own dedication—that,” he said, his voice soaring, “is the American Dream.”

Moments later, he was engulfed by admirers. Frank Coleman, of the Cigar Association of America, who claimed that the F.D.A. was “trying to kill the industry” by threatening to ban flavored cigars, had never heard of Ramaswamy before, but said, “It was a tremendous speech.” Tulsi Gabbard, the former congresswoman and 2020 Presidential candidate who’d recently announced that she was leaving the Democratic Party, called Ramaswamy courageous. Mark Meadows, Trump’s former chief of staff, used the same word. An hour later, Ramaswamy was still fielding well-wishers when he realized that he needed to get to the airport. It was wheels-up soon, and he had places to go. ♦

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Swing in Style: The Benefits of Choosing Golf-Specific Apparel

Wearing the right clothes can make all the difference when it comes to enjoying a round of golf. Whether searching for a golf apparel shop or typing “golf apparel near me” or “golf clothes near me” into your search engine, choosing attire specifically designed for golf can significantly enhance your experience on the course. In this article, we’ll explore why investing in golf-specific apparel is a practical choice and a stylish and performance-enhancing decision for those who love the game.

Comfort and Flexibility: Move with Ease on the Course

Golf requires a range of motion—whether swinging the club, bending down to pick up the ball, or walking across the course for hours. Golf apparel is designed with these movements in mind. Unlike general sports clothing, golf-specific attire is tailored for maximum flexibility and comfort. Fabrics used in golf apparel shops are typically lightweight, breathable, and stretchable, allowing for a full range of motion without restriction.

For example, modern golf shirts are often made with moisture-wicking technology, ensuring that your body stays cool and dry even on hot days. Stretchable fabrics in pants and shorts allow you to bend, swing, and move fluidly, which can greatly improve your game. If you’re looking for golf clothes, you’ll find that these purpose-built designs cater specifically to the demands of the sport.

 Performance Enhancement: Improve Your Game with the Right Gear

The right golf attire isn’t just about looking good; it can also directly impact your game. Golf shirts, pants, and outerwear are often made with specialized technology to enhance performance. For example, many golf apparel shops offer clothing that reduces muscle fatigue by providing gentle compression. This helps you maintain a steady level of energy throughout your game.

In addition, moisture-wicking fabrics keep you dry, and UV-protective materials shield your skin from harmful sun exposure. Some apparel even incorporates anti-odor technology, ensuring you stay fresh even after hours on the course. If you’ve been searching for “golf apparel near me,” these are the kinds of benefits you can expect from high-quality golf clothing.

3. Weather Resistance: Play in Any Condition

One of the most overlooked benefits of golf-specific apparel is its weather adaptability. Golf is an outdoor sport, and weather conditions can change quickly. Clothing from a golf apparel shop is designed to keep you comfortable in varying conditions. For example, many golf jackets and outer layers are windproof and waterproof, helping you stay warm and dry when the weather takes a turn for the worse.

At the same time, golf apparel is engineered to be breathable, preventing you from overheating when the sun is out. This versatility means you can focus on your game without worrying about the elements. If you’re searching for golf apparel near me, you’ll find various weather-resistant options to suit your needs, ensuring that you can enjoy your game no matter the forecast.

Professional Appearance: Look and Feel Like a Golfer

Part of the appeal of golf is its tradition of professionalism and etiquette, and the right golf apparel helps you look the part. Wearing appropriate golf clothes is often required by golf courses, but beyond that, it contributes to the overall golfing experience. From stylish polos to sleek pants and skirts, visiting a golf apparel shop ensures that you’ll not only meet course dress codes but also feel confident and professional while playing.

For those who enjoy golfing socially or participate in corporate events, dressing the part can make a significant difference in how you’re perceived. Looking polished on the course can also boost your own confidence, which may even translate to improved performance. If you're considering upgrading your wardrobe, searching for “golf apparel near me” can lead you to stylish, high-performance options that will leave you looking as good as you play.

 Durability: Apparel Built to Last

Golf-specific clothing is not only about comfort and performance but also durability. Apparel made for golfers is designed to withstand the sport's unique demands. High-quality golf clothes are built to last, whether it’s frequent washing, exposure to the elements, or repetitive movements. The fabrics and stitching used in golf apparel shops are durable and long-lasting, ensuring great value from your investment.

Given golfers' time on the course, choosing apparel that can endure constant use is a smart move. This ensures that your clothing will stay in excellent condition round after round, season after season. You will be investing in pieces that stand the test of time, offering both function and longevity.

Custom Fit: Clothing Tailored for Your Game

One of the most important aspects of choosing the right golf clothing is ensuring a proper fit. Unlike generic activewear, golf clothes are tailored to the unique needs of golfers. Whether you need extra shoulder room for a powerful swing or prefer a more fitted look for style, golf apparel offers options that suit various preferences.

When you visit a golf apparel shop, you’ll find various sizes, cuts, and fits designed to ensure you feel comfortable and confident during your game. Properly fitted golf clothes can make all the difference in how you perform and feel on the course. 

Conclusion

In summary, investing in golf-specific apparel is about more than just following the dress code—it’s about enhancing your overall experience on the course. The benefits are clear, from comfort and performance to weather resistance and durability. So, whether you're looking for a golf apparel shop, searching for “golf apparel near me,” or simply trying to find the best golf clothes near me, upgrading your golf wardrobe is an excellent decision for anyone serious about the sport. Not only will you look the part, but you’ll also improve your game and feel more comfortable doing it.

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IECCP Women UPF 50+ Cool Shirts Lightweight Pullover 1/4 Zip Long Sleeve Sun Protection Exercise Tops

Price: (as of – Details) From the brand Elevate your workout with UPF Sun-safe and sweat-free in our UPF50+ Half Zip Gym Shirt Ladies Golf Polo Shirt Women Long Sleeve Polo Shirts Long Sleeve Tennis Golf Top Long Sleeve Running Gym Top Zipper Sport Tennis Tops Athletic Shirt with ThumbHoles Gym Athletic Polo T-Shirt UPF50 Half Zip Gym Sport Shirt Product Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 30 x 20 x 3 cm;…

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Original Penguin Golf

Launches Men’s Fall 2022 Collection Featuring Polar Pete Outerwear™ #BeAnOriginal

Original Penguin Golf® by Munsingwear®, a division of Perry Ellis International, is pleased to announce the launch of its Mens’ Fall 2022 golf collection featuring the Polar Pete Outerwear series. Combining a retro yet modern look, with the classic Original Penguin heritage and style, these new collections are designed to achieve a new level of performance, style and sustainability on and off the course.

“Today, and in the years ahead, versatility will be key for the clothes we wear,” stated Oscar Feldenkreis, CEO of Perry Ellis International. “The Original Penguin Men’s Fall 2022 golf collection features diversified, multi-use layering pieces which perform perfectly for a golfer’s lifestyle.  The collection blends luxurious style with inspiring, athletic apparel enabling golfers to integrate premium sportswear with their everyday wardrobe.”

The new Polar Pete Series includes layering and outerwear pieces for those playing in all kinds of weather, or simply on-the-go in the elements.  Fabrics have been crafted with sustainable yarn blends and eco-friendly technologies, while performance features include moisture-wicking, UPF Protection, and lightweight 4-way stretch, making it easy for golfers to extend their season.  New Polar Pete pieces include:

 ●      Performance Hoodie with a luxe eco friendly blend of tencel, recyclable poly, elastane creating a water-repellent finish.

 ●      A 90’s-inspired mixed-media color block thermal fleece and our new ¼ zip featuring a 3D spacer fleece in recycled blend-great mid-weight layering options for those cooler days.

●      Insulated Puffers with primaloft thermal insulation with 100% nylon durable micro-ripstop, water repellent, and 600-fill power insulation. It can be worn on frigid, windy days on the course or around town.

●      Windwear options this season include a new, full zip bunker camo water repellent wind jacket, fully lined with stretch-lining for better range of motion.

●      Earl Waterproof rain suit with iconic Earl piping. It’s fully seam-sealed with water repellent zippers. The jacket has gusset side panels for flexibility and the pants feature adjustable hem cuffs.

“Original Penguin’s Fall 2022 Men’s golf collection of apparel and accessories continues to provide endless nostalgic inspiration,” added Lupe Benitez, Senior Vice President Product Design, Original Penguin Golf.  “This season is inspired by early 90’s looks from our archives.  The collection fuses a distinct balance of retro and modern and is unapologetically hip and whimsical.”

 Original Penguin is known for its fun statement prints and the Fall ’22 collection delivers with new florals, camos and cool new graphic t-shirts specially created with the golfer in mind. Designed for a versatile approach, the long sleeve sun protection pieces are also great for multi-layering during the fall.

For over 60 years Original Penguin, and its namesake icon, Pete the Penguin, have been adorned and adored by the masters of leisure and sport to define itself as an American classic.  Today, the Penguin icon still stands as a signal for those who know how to be an original and what you wear for the good times.

About An Original Penguin® by Munsingwear®

In 1955, Minneapolis-based Munsingwear – an underwear and military supply company – ironically became the touchstone of suburban sport with the introduction of the first iconic golf shirt to America – an ORIGINAL PENGUIN®. Known for its unique, humorous and detail-oriented clothing, Original Penguin offers a full range of men’s, women’s and children’s clothing, accessories and fragrances.  The brand continues to evolve into the sports arena with the addition of tennis and pickleball apparel.  Original Penguin is a global brand with retail stores worldwide as well as two dedicated e-commerce websites:www.originalpenguin.com andwww.originalpenguin.co.uk.

 About Perry Ellis International

Perry Ellis International, Inc. is a leading designer, distributor, and licensor of a broad line of high quality men’s and women’s apparel, accessories, and fragrances. The company’s collection of dress and casual shirts, golf sportswear, sweaters, dress pants, casual pants and shorts, jeans wear, active wear, dresses, and men’s and women’s swimwear is available through all major levels of retail distribution. The company, through its wholly owned subsidiaries, owns a portfolio of nationally and internationally recognized brands, including: Perry Ellis®, An Original Penguin by Munsingwear®, Laundry by Shelli Segal®, Rafaella®, Cubavera®, Ben Hogan®, Savane®, Grand Slam®, John Henry®, Manhattan®, Axist® and Farah®. The company enhances its roster of brands by licensing trademarks from third parties, including: Nike® for swimwear, and Callaway®, PGA TOUR®, and Jack Nicklaus® for golf apparel.  Additional information on the company is available at www.pery.com

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