“Siri, what is a ‘gooch’?” I already knew the answer to this question when I asked my faithful Apple assistant, in the same sort of way that you intrinsically know what the balance in your checking account is going to be the morning after a night out. Still, I had to know for sure. It is, after all, my job to report the facts when I’m not offering my opinions (which is most of the time), and the facts are as follows: “Gooch” is slang for “guy cooch,” and Succession star Brian Cox brought his gooch to his recent appearance on The Tonight Show in stunning fashion.
If you have not yet seen the photo I’m about to show you, hold onto whatever stable surface is closest to you and make sure there are no sharp edges that you might bonk yourself on if you go down, because I’m about to rock your world.
When I first laid my sleepy blue eyes upon this Library of Alexandria-worthy photograph, I had multiple conclusions. The first was that this was irrefutable proof that AI has gone too far. But that was before I realized that this picture is not the work of some demonic image generator, but rather a real photo of the esteemed Scottish actor Brian Cox, fearlessly sporting some camel-colored, presumably pleather capri pants. My second conclusion was that, while I am not and probably never will be a Succession fan (we’ve been over this; don’t tell me to try one more episode!), I am coming out as a fan of Brian Cox.
Cox hit The Tonight Show to promote his new reality competition series, 007: Road to a Million, in which he plays “The Controller.” While Cox is technically playing himself, he’s also leaning into a Bond villain archetype who revels in the chaos of watching ordinary people put themselves through superspy challenges for a chance at a fortune. And Cox is clearly someone who knows all about death-defying stunts, judging by the sartorial risks he’s taking with his outfit. Let’s work together to break this one down together, head to toe.
First off, we have Cox sporting his signature eel-gray, acetate glasses: a classic, stylish staple piece of eyewear that goes with any outfit—even one that says, “I have a board meeting at 5 p.m. and will be elbowing women for doorbusters at the TJ Maxx Black Friday sale at 1 a.m.” Then, there’s the pinstripe button-up shirt, a decidedly unisex top that Cox opts to leave untucked, to go for a more casual look. By my own estimation, this shirt could be pulled from J.Crew or Kohl’s; there’s really no perfect way to tell with an amateur eye. I am, however, not necessarily an amateur—I worked at Kohl’s for three months when I was 18, and one of my degrees is from a fashion school. I think I know keen high-low styling when I see it!
Despite his untucked shirt screaming “casual,” the pants are anything but nonchalant. These trousers are the selection of someone who is looking to make a splash. Even at 77 years young, Cox is unafraid to tread where even the most deliberate divas of design wouldn’t dare to drift.
Miss Thing sauntered onto the Tonight Show stage with the earned confidence of the classically trained Shakespearean thespian he is. Cox is under six feet tall, but even that wasn’t going to stop him from playing with proportion. This is what we call a consummate performer, the kind that can keep an audience guessing both on-camera and off. Except here, Cox was the director, and the capris were his muse.
For what it’s worth, the pants look expertly tailored and fit Cox like a glove—a characteristic that I’m guessing was also part of the product description on their SHEIN webpage. I’m not sure this particularly excuses the fact that the capris are not only the color of bile but completely clash with the navy button-up, but that’s what being a garment gambler is all about: taking chances. And damn it if Cox didn’t sit there, staring Jimmy Fallon dead in his soulless, beady little eyes, and tell him, “I’ve got some goatskin trousers.” (Cox also did a little sketch in which he played a goat man earlier in the show; the less said about this, the better.)
Finally, we move past the high hem of Cox’s pants to the ankle and shoe. It would simply be bad reporting not to mention that Cox was sporting the kind of ankles you’d typically see in feudal times when a repressed milkmaid was feeling saucy enough to hike up her skirt. Those gams are delicate and clean-shaven—pearly little pins out for the world to see. Cox finished off the look with a pair of splashy loafers, ID’d by GQ as shoes from the brand Kith. Credit where it’s due: The tan in the loafers is a perfect complement to those burnt beige breeches.
I can’t say enough about this outfit. It’s inspired. Julia Fox is probably somewhere in the greater New York area, gnawing on a piece of driftwood just to distract herself from jealousy. You know what kind of scrote you’ve got to have to wear pants like these to a talk show? A massive one, one that you’re not afraid to fold into a cameltoe—sorry, “moose knuckle” is the term for men, my bad—before strutting out to greet the American public, gooch-first. Brian Cox, you are both an absolute legend and a goddamn madman. And while I don’t respect that enough to watch Succession, I will be actively trying to identify your pants for Halloween 2024.
