Marc's own shirt, jeans, jewelry, boots; Jacques Marie Mage sunglasses. Grooming: Joanna Ford. Photographed by Guy Aroch Most mornings, Marc Maron wakes up spiraling. Each turn of the globe brings a fresh catastrophe, a crisis, real or imagined, that sends the comedian back into battle with his tenacious anxiety. This isn't great for mental health, but it does make for good material. And today, his psyche is playing the hits. "I got cat problems," Maron sighs, a Zyn pouch migrating from the inside of his left cheek to the right.
Who the F*** Is Marc Maron Without Podcasting? He's About to Find Out
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