Friday, March 5, 2010

Don't Make Me Over

So goes the old Dionne Warwick tune from 1962. (a good one at that)

Leave me alone when it comes to dressing me. I'm a big boy, and I know what I like to wear. I know what I won't wear. Sure, if I had to look good for a BIG formal event, I'd assuredly have Tim Gunn cleaning me up for the fĂȘte, but you are not Tim Gunn, forget about it.

My wardrobe almost exclusively consists of plain navy blue, gray, or black tee shirts on top with dark pants or shorts on the bottom. A hoodie goes over the tee in the winter. I do not go to a job site to work, I do not need anything but.

Nothing is more demeaning than a grown man having his wife or girl friend help him shop for clothes. If I need a suit and tie or an upgrade to my 100-dollar-dinner outfit, I am capable of putting together a good set of good looking and comfortable vines. I cringe when I witness some poor shinkydinked fellow modeling clothes for a meddlesome and controlling woman

My hair, buzzed off. My face, always clean-shaven. I do not like jewelry. Haberdashery is out. This does not make me a slob. I just happen to dress simply.

This Spartan approach also allows my charming personality to shine through and not be hidden by an ostentatious wardrobe.