Fashionless in Seattle

I recently discovered a fashion blog titled, "The Sartorialist". Viewing it, I can't help but wish that I had well-worn suits and stylish jackets. Money is often an obstacle in this endeavor, as is my lack of good taste. My wife was once commanded by a salesman: "Do not let him wear tubesocks with this suit." I shook my head, but silently made a mental note.

The t-shirt-and-shorts guy in me sees the same photos and says, "That looks hot." There is a reason I don't wear sweaters, even though I think they look good on me. I'm a sweater. As in, "one who perspires", not the clothing article's version of "wooly thing that makes you perspire". Heavy clothing is fine if you're planning on standing outside during the winter, but I invariably walk inside at some point and loathe my second skin.

I wear what's comfortable. Oftentimes, this is an old t-shirt, any shorts that still have a button, and a pair of cheap flip-flops. I may have to start hiding these shirts 'Anne Frank'-style soon, as my wife squints evilly every time they adorn me. Moreso than usual.