I first met comedian Max Silvestri onstage.

Well, he was onstage. I was sitting in the audience, doubled over with laughter as he and his comedy partners – Jenny Slate and Gabe Liedman – dropped ridiculous riffs on the crowd assembled in a small bar’s surprisingly spacious back room, deep in hipster Williamsburg.

My friend had invited me to Big Terrific, the trio’s weekly comedy night, where the three would perform their own routines, as well as bring up pals looking to test out new material or just get their jokes in front of a new audience. In the weeks and months that followed, I served as joke taste-tester for comedians ranging from Jenny Klein to Joe Mande to John Mulaney (other, non-J-monikered performers were also allowed onstage).

As these things usually go, I went home that first night and followed Silvestri on Twitter, then he followed me back…I seem to recall a pretty intense public debate one evening about the merit of colored dress socks? From there, we started to see each other around the neighborhood. One day he was waiting for the bus across the street when I walked out of my eye doctor’s. We waved.

Since I’d always admired not just his delivery but his wardrobe too, I reached out and told him I wanted to take his picture. The morning we were supposed to meet for lunch, we ran into one another at the gym it turns out we’re both members of.

Slate and Liedeman are both out in LA now (you most likely know Slate from literally every funny thing you watch on tv – from Parks & Recreation to Kroll Show. She also has a new movie coming out, Obvious Child, that was filmed in my neighborhood, so if you want to see Greenpoint up close and personal, check it out), while Liedeman writes for Golden Globe dark horse Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Silvestri has been staying busy on both coasts, having recently wrapped the first season of a food travel series called The Feed, and recorded a comedy album (more on that below).

Now that I’ve spilled my secrets on how to make friends [1. Be on Twitter or, 2. Live in Brooklyn], I’ll hand the mic over to the Massachusetts-born comedian to opine on his style, in his words, no drink minimum required.

How intentional is your “on-stage” style? Was it a strategic decision when you first got started? How much do you think about it now? 

My on-stage “style” is very unintentional. It’s exactly what I would wear to meet somebody for coffee or to go out to dinner. I mean, I’m definitely aware I’m getting up on a stage and there will be a light on me and most people in the room will be staring at me, so I don’t want to look like a dope, but I also don’t want to look like a dope walking down the street, so I usually pay attention to my clothes. I live in Williamsburg. Everyone here is a machine gun of constant silent judgment, me included, so I try not to wear sweat pants to the grocery store.

Who do you think is the best-dressed comedian out there today?

We go to the same gym. How do you feel your level of fitness impacts your personal style?

What brands can be found in your closet? How much do you have to get tailored?

You’ve been spending a lot of time in LA. What do you see as the main difference between east coast and west coast style for guys?