Day Seventy Nine: March 19
It’s the kind of day where you stride confidently up the stairs into your house and throw your tie down on the kitchen table; relieved that for the next sixteen hours, you are a free man. The memo about “business casual” never reached Washington D.C. My firm wears full suits every day.
Which brings us to the story of the purple tie. You see, I am famously fashion-stupid. This was enabled by serving in the Navy, the service so famous for its 300-year rut of resistance to modern fashion that it claims its very own shade in the spectrum of blues. So when I resigned my commission, the idea that I could wear whatever I wanted was not only new, it took some getting used to.
So there I was in the tailor shop, with Love, that paragon of fashion. I actually really enjoyed working with the tailor; Sofio Barone Custom Clothiers of McLean, Virginia. He analyzed my complexion and skin tone, and set to work choosing a palette of colors and fabrics that worked well to give me the effect I wanted appropriate to my profession, industry, and very red skin coloring. Sofio recommended purple and commented on how distinguished it would look.
Love interjected “Yes, but he would never wear purple.” the implication being He’s a giant fuddy-duddy. Oh, that’s it. It’s GAME ON!!! I said to myself. “I’ll try the purple.” I asserted. And so it was. I am the proud owner of a striped purple shirt and the famous purple tie you see here. And, actually, I’m quite pleased with the look. All because my wife called me out.
Just hope she never calls me out to wear
pink salmon. Because that’s not going to happen.