It kinda started with this thread, which by the time I posted, got me thinking about my own fashion . . . or lack thereof.
I can think of only two times in the last eleven years that I’ve gone out shopping for clothes, just for the sake of new things to wear–and both occurrences were when I was dating/married to my lovely wife. Now I’m not talking about going out to buy a one-time suit, or pickin’ up supplies or uniforms for work. I’m talking about going out for normal, everyday, casual-wearing clothes.
Now, because of my limited need for “normal” clothes, I’ve amassed a 1.28 metric tons of t-shirts, a handful of cargo shorts, a few polo shirts (for semi-formal wear), and a couple of pairs of jeans. On one of the two shopping trips, my wife and I picked up a few button down shirts, a couple of jackets (that can go with the jeans), and have inherited a few ties. Also, one time, I did pick up two pair of Carhartt work pants–ostensibly for ‘civilian’ work, but I rarely wear 'em. Over the years, I’ve amassed a collection of the “one timer” pants/slacks, but again, I rarely wear those.
Thus, my closet is full of t-shirts, underwear, olive drab/black socks, a dozen hockey jerseys, half a dozen polo shirts, two pairs of jeans, two Carhartts work pants, two sport coats, some ties, and some quasi-dressy pants (all of which are notwithstanding my uniforms and such). I have two pair of western boots that double as my ‘formal shoes’. With this ensemble, I am to piece together an outfit for just about any occasion–and I figure I do well.
I mean, you’re talking to a guy who’s not afraid to wear his boots, jeans, and a nice shirt and tie to a relative’s wedding. [sub]My wife is now screaming.[/sub] I despise Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein, Versachie, etc. and figure I can do just fine with some LL Bean polo shirts and some Wrangler jeans. Other than that, I think I’m pretty run of the mill. But yet, something tugs at me that I’m supposed to go shopping or something, but I don’t know why. Seriously, if it weren’t for my wife’s insistence, I would probably still be wearing the same old khaki shorts I somehow inherited a few years ago, with an equally old (but not as worn, and always cleanly washed) t-shirt. So, guys (and gals), am I in the norm?
Yes, some of my t-shirts are eleven years old, and I’ll never let go of them.