I wear a suit most days, and a tie some. Its not really a preference, more of a tool. In the course of a normal day I may have 5 or 6 meetings, sometimes with my boss, sometimes with my boss's boss, sometimes with vendors or ad execs, and sometimes with my staff. All of the big shots tend to wear suits, so I play that game. All of the little shots wear whatever they effing want, but when I have to be a boss (which sometimes means being a dick), I respect them enough to dress like one (a boss, not a dick).
Also, when you boil it all down, I am a commodity, like a racehorse or a car or a watch. I'm a commodity that somebody spent a decent amount of money on, and when somebody spends a decent amount of money on something, and they have to look at it every day, they usually want to feel good about their investment. Sure, my car runs well, and the blinkers work, but I also want it to look good when I toss the keys to the valet. So for all of these reasons, I wear a suit.
Now on an average commute, I'd say about a quarter of the people on the train are wearing suits. If you're on an early
peaker, the ratio goes up to maybe half. So I see alot of effing suits. Old, new, cheap, expensive, too tight, too long, ill-fitted, bad-ass, pin-striped, peak lapeled, glen plaid, three button, two button, unbuttoned, missing buttons, out of style, overstyled, had it since college, should only be worn to a funeral, brown, blue, black, searsucker, cotton, wool, chino, Prada (for the younguns), Polo (for the grownups), Brooks Brothers (for the lemmings). You name it, I've seen it. But there is one suit that I rarely see. A suit so unique that I sometimes go months or even years without a sighting, and then, when I've almost completely forgotten about its existence, I catch a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye as I ascend up the stairs and out of the station. There it is, in all it's denim magnificence. The Jean Suit.
A dude in a Jean Suit is a dude who is saying eff you to the suits of the world. I will not be a slave to your fashion laws, your shackles of style. I will go my own way. The way of the Levi. The way of the Wrangler. A dude in a Jean Suit lives life as a free man. He wakes up and says "today, I will wear my jeans, because they are comfortable and I enjoy them", and then, without even the slightest hesitation, he says "and I will also wear my denim jacket, because, it too, is comfortable". And then finally, just because he knows he can, he throws a metrosexual leather satchel over his shoulder and strides confidently out the door. Point, set and match.
Walk on Jean Suit man. Walk on
That's called the double jean faux pas
ReplyDeleteWearing a Jean Suit is about as bad as wearing Jeans when going skiing.
ReplyDeleteso say the victims of fashion
ReplyDeleteDo you take requests? You're making me miss the train (and I really thought that was impossible). You're a great writer. A multi-hyphenate in NYC.
ReplyDeleteA friend sent me to this blog (hint: you work with her). Effing hilarious. I haven't done Metro North in twenty years yet it seems like the same yahoos are still commuting. Don't forget to tackle those who groom on the train: the nail clippers, the hairspray/perfume sprayers, and the make-up appliers.
ReplyDeleteNothing like a good jean suit to get you through a rainy day. He probably wanted to spare his Brooks Brothers get up.
ReplyDeleteLive free or die, Jeanie McJeanerson.
Dude, I remember seeing YOU in a jean suit in the office one day. Meanwhile, great writing here.
ReplyDeletewe call that the Texas Tuxedo.
ReplyDelete