The Rebuttal

Bottom line – I should dress more appropriately and better, but I continue to wear the rags that define me.  I am a product of the clothes that are bought for me from the people who understand fashion and good looks.  Like most things, there is a reason. 

First, let me say that the women in my life (Bird a.k.a. sister and Mom a.k.a. my Mom) are impeccable wearer’s of clothes.  They understand what is “in” and they wear it well.  Other women give them compliments and emulate them when possible.  It is an honor to be in their company.  My ma is, without question, the best Mom on Earth and she is the type of person you want to give a hug every time you see her.  Birdy is tough but the best sister you could ask for.  Keeps me honest but she understands her brother.   Regardless, they are classy.  It’s a lot to live up to.  Nevertheless, I appreciate their taste in fashion and in some ways it represents the type of people that they are.  Kind, loving, and classy.

When I was in school, circa 1998 – 2002 my roommate gave me a bit of advice that I have lived by.  I think it is important to understand the person before this moment of glory is divulged.  “Big” Al Thomspson.  He was recruited to play football and his shoulders are as big as Ford Truck.  Nicest person you will ever meet in the world.  Born and raised in Prince George County (PG County as the gangsters say) Maryland just outside of the Nation’s Capital.  I’ve been there before as the token “white dude”. Al is a man of conviction and his father is a pastor.  Normally on Sunday he would put on a fancy suit and go to church.  For about 9 hours.  One time, Big and I started a conversation about clothes which resulted in one of the greatest lines / ideals of all time.   Big said to me “Mart, it’s not the clothes that make the man, it’s the man that makes the clothes.”

I ran with it.  And I didn’t get much help with the people I lived with down the road.  You see, I lived in a house in North Carolina with 5 other guys.  All Marine Corps Officers like me.  Often, you could return home on a Friday evening to the house finding someone looking in your closet for a new shirt to wear.  Sometimes you could be out at a bar and look at one of the guys and realize that, yes he has a nice shirt on, but also that it’s yours.  In fact, we had a red, black, and white pair of plaid trousers that were worn by a different person each weekend.  You have to understand that 95 percent of the time we were in uniform and the time for civilian clothes turned out to be a joke at best.  Often we would wear checkered shoes (VANs) or Converse All Stars with jeans and a repulsive t shirt, with holes.  We just didn’t really care.

As I get older and more “professional” I realize that I need to step it up a little bit.  I do, however, get a kick out of the people in my workplace who recommend this.  So, you’re telling me that orthopedic shoes and a crappy beige blazer make you classier than me?  I think once they open their mouth the truth comes out.  You can take a blank out of blank but you can’t take the blank out of blank.  You know what I’m saying.

So I guess I’m in a crossroads.  I’m 5’10’’, 188 pounds (just weighed in this morning).  Nothing fits me.   I have short arms and Banana Republic and J.Crew don’t consider these things.  I like to run and do physical activities.  It is almost like some of these stores / designers say, “Ok, let’s design some clothes that only fit 10 percent of the population (who hate sports and think that going to the gym is for Neanderthals).”  It’s not fair.

Hence, I’m reduced to my baby sister’s worst nightmare.  Levi jeans and t-shirts.  I truly believe that I can be changed with some female influence but I think that I’m happy with resistance at the moment.  It’s going to be a project but I’m sure it will be fun for whoever takes it on.

At the end of the day, respect for yourself and the understanding of the big picture things in life outweigh Mr. Louis Vuitton   Any day of the week.

-Pete