Men and your suits.
One wouldn’t know you from the other save the ties. And unless you’re a Fortune 500 executive, mobster, politician and black guy, you don’t know how to properly rock a suit anyway. Do you even own a pair of Stacey Adams?
But it doesn’t matter. Because you’re a man. A suit is your version of a habit, a robe, a pair of Bermuda shorts. It’s just what you wear.
As I plan my first big trip to the East coast I remain perplexed about many things:
Will I have enough money?
Will I have a place to stay?
Will I be able to meet all the people I’d like to meet and all the people who’d like to meet me?
What the fuck am I going to wear?
More after the jump
The last, of course, is the most important. Not that I won’t need to be brushed up on my facts on international relations, economics, American history, black studies, various law and theory and government. Not that I be charming and funny and interesting. No. WHAT AM I WEARING?
In my mind I can see countless women all over America, the world, starring at blouses and cardigans. Women more accomplished than me with degrees out the ying yang and careers and businesses and inventions and discoveries and they’re all staring into the abyss of their closet, contemplating a trip to Ann Taylor because they can’t wear the green dress AGAIN. What will people say?
Women, no matter what they do, get reduced to the sum of their parts. She can’t just be dumb or smart or inflammatory or controversial. No, Chris Matthews has to ask poor Tucker Carlson if he thinks Ann Coulter is “hot.” Just because she parades her legs like they’re the crowning achievement of her lithe anatomy, doesn’t mean it’s appropriate to discuss her rumored sex appeal..
What do her looks have to do with her being so damn hateful?
I think Center-Right pundit Amy Holmes is beautiful, but I don’t agree with her on anything. I’m interested in what comes from her brain to her mouth and out into the atmosphere, not her measurements or the brand label on her shirt collar.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love clothes. I love beauty and fashion. I’m excited about shopping for new items and I’m excited for an excuse to inject some new blood in the closet. To wear heels. To do my make up. To twirl the hair. To be a big, giant girl.
I just don’t think it’s fair that the so-called “fairer” sex has to blow hours upon hours on maintenance if the other team is “wash and wear.” I’m proposing that men get judged on both their brains and beauty, just like women.
Oh, to hear people poo-poo the bulldog mug of Dick Morris or compare James Carville to the beast from Alien … or a lizard person. To see Bill O’Reilly fly into a fit of pique and insecurity and pull a Greta Van Susteren and have extensive plastic surgery out of a mixture of fear and our county’s obsession with ever younger girls and women.
Of course, I don’t actually wish for this brand of schadenfruede (which is already happening with the advent of more and more teen boys wanting to look like cut-up matinee idols, athletes and sexualized male models). Ideally, men and women could BOTH have “uniforms” to wear to work that either desexualized them OR allowed both to reflect more personality. (Maybe the white guy WANTS to wear the lime green suit and not get stares. If LeRoi and ’em can do it.) It would be wonderful to focus on the task at hand and not fret over whether or not your lace tights are too racy for the office even if the skirt comes mid shin and if skorts should be banned.
Men and women could both be judged for their actions. Men and women could both be encouraged to dress with colorful individuality (I know this would make some brothers happy). Unattractive women would be treated no differently than unattractive men. Other than the occasional “old fart” joke, they would just be another respected, loved or feared doyen, like their decaying male counterparts.
But until then, I need to build an outfit around this blouse using a combination of recession cash flow and “Hustlenomics.”
Wish me luck (and see you at Harvard, New York City and Washington, D.C.) in a little less than a week!
Live Your Best Life. 
Leave a reply to Michele Cancel reply