Dry-Cleaners, Elves, and the Duke of Windsor Revisited

The Follow Up to last weeks reprint, this ran May 12th, 2016. Like the previous entry it has remained unaltered.  

   Faithful readers may remember the confusion at the dry cleaners that I had. I was pretty upset over losing the black suit and I felt pretty silly to have gone so long without noticing.  I called it “chintzy,” which was unfair and a “Tux'” which is uncouth. It is a fine suit, not a cheap rental. Certainly, I was not happy ending up with the wrong thing, but I should only have been mad at myself. I had no right to take it out on the clothes.

      I figured that a dinner suit is exactly the kind of thing one ought to have on hand. However in the twenty-first century, few people need these sorts of things and I don’t move in their circles. I could go to every party that I am invited to dressed like a  tech-billionaire (adult diapers and stapled-on rags), but a reminder of  the good life is sitting quietly in my closet, almost unnoticed next to my black overcoat.
       Over the past few month I have picked up a proper silk bow tie, a white pocket square, cuff-links, and a silk cummerbund (I already had the proper suspenders), but to no real purpose. I haven’t received any engraved invitations. Part of owning things is an expectation of using them, and, in this case, having an occasion to use them. I have always lacked the occasion. It seems taunting of fate to send me this thing which I didn’t need or want and that was not given or passed down. It simply showed up in my closet one day to show me the deficiencies in my social life.
       Maybe we all have these sorts of troubles with our social lives.  I gave a pep-talk to a friend recently in which I said “When you’re young you constantly fear that there is a party going on somewhere and that you are not invited, and getting older is all about realizing that the party is wherever you are and making the most of it.”
       I was pretty happy having said that and I believed it at the time — and I believe it in general — but I have this corner of my closet that is dominated by the suit (that when hanging resembles a folded and neglected theatrical curtain), occasionally reminding me “yes, there is a party going on somewhere, and no, you are not invited.”



Adult Diapers * Suspenders * Engraved Invitations * Glamour Boys * Quoting Myself * Cuff-Links







On The Turn-of the-Century

NOTE: This is an unrevised entry from my old Blog May 21st, 2016

The British press is in the habit of referring to the years 2000-2009 A.D. as “The Naughties,” but, I am ashamed to say,  my own behavior contributed very little to that particular title.