Chef and restauranteur Mario Carbone sympathizes with the modern man’s dilemma, in part because he’s responsible for it. Imagine: this guy (it could be you!) has finally reserved that table at one of New York City’s most notoriously difficult-to-book restaurants—naturally, Mario’s own postmodern red-sauce joint, Carbone. (I’ll refer to him as Mario to avoid confusion with the restaurant that shares his name.) “He’s out with his girl and he’s trying to impress her,” Mario says, painting me a picture. “He’s looking through his closet and what’s he going to pull?” A suit feels too formal, graphic streetwear not quite right. Mario has an idea: how about a jacket-and-pant set and a crisp white short-sleeve button-up, all from his new menswear line Our Lady of Rocco?
If it seems somewhat unlikely that a beloved chef would moonlight as a fashion designer, then you aren’t familiar with Mario Carbone. His restaurant empire