Clark Hoyt — de facto ballbuster and Public Editor of the New York Times — took the Styles section to task today. Hoyt finally went after Cintra Wilson's hysterically size-ist, Middle America tone-deaf, awesome assessment of NYC's new JC Penney's.

Professional underminer Mike Albo mourns the halcyon early 90s in today's Critical Shopper column. Also, the Times still hasn't caught on to the fact that he only ever makes fun of the impulse to buy or own fancy clothes: "I know it's not 1993 anymore, but some of these prices still gave me pause. Fourteen years ago these clothes would have been incomprehensible to me. If I had walked in, listening to Letters to Cleo on my portable CD player, I would have reacted like a cave man who, hurtled through time, had come across a microwave and was dumbfounded, 'Wha? $135 for T-shirt? Me no understand.'" Also: "[1993] was a carefree, de-gorgeous era, when I often wore girl's-size thermals printed with snowflakes or flowers and $3 thrift store bell-bottoms. I even knotted my hair in Bjork buns." HOT.

"It's just like not being all those fucking metrosexual dickfaces," Freemans Sporting Club member Jack Dakin told the Observer back in November. Oh really? Thursgay's Critical Shopper column details the wares of the Lower East Side taxidermy-filled barbershop'n'$2,000 suits emporium, and it paints a very metrosexual, very dickfacey picture. $390 hand-stitched rubber wellies! $3,000 custom tailoring! A $40 fade haircut! But there is one genre of hipster accessory the FSC doesn't sell, writes Shopper-sub Horatio Silva: "The focus here is clearly on authentic work wear and on the trappings of masculinity—in other words, on the importance of being Ernest Hemingway. Which explains why there are no man jewels available at this Big Papa's House."

Stag Party At The Hunting Lodge [NYT]
Earlier: Freeman's He-Man Woman Haters No Metrosexual Dickfaces Club