RickinNYC
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,870
This morning, I was in a rush to get ready for work, I just yanked things out of the closet. Shirt, check, underthings, check, pants (YES pants) check, belt, shoes, socks, all check. I guzzle a cup of coffee and take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was as it should.
Well, it seems full length mirrors are evil. There I said it. Some folks have fat mirrors, others have skinny mirrors. I apparently have a "you look like your father and there is nothing you can do about it" mirror. I actually did a "what the..?" doubletake. I was wearing chinos, loafers, a plaid shirt, webbed belt, the works. I looked like I bought an outfit out of the Eddie Bauer window at the mall. Where the heck did I even get these clothes anyway? My fancy, schmancy, all-black-wearing New Yorkers would be horrified. And I didn't have any time to change.
So, off I went. Looking like my father. Somebody should hand me some waders and fly fishing rod and send me off to stand in a river, pondering what my idiot son was up to.
Sure enough, I got asked to stop by a trendy joint in the Village for a cocktail after work. I politely declined. No excuses. I told them I was dressed like my father and wouldn't be welcomed into such a fine establishment. They'd pelt me with last year's LL Bean catalog and refuse entry.
Paging Mr. Bauer, Mr. Eddie Bauer... Please pick up the white courtesy phone.
Well, it seems full length mirrors are evil. There I said it. Some folks have fat mirrors, others have skinny mirrors. I apparently have a "you look like your father and there is nothing you can do about it" mirror. I actually did a "what the..?" doubletake. I was wearing chinos, loafers, a plaid shirt, webbed belt, the works. I looked like I bought an outfit out of the Eddie Bauer window at the mall. Where the heck did I even get these clothes anyway? My fancy, schmancy, all-black-wearing New Yorkers would be horrified. And I didn't have any time to change.
So, off I went. Looking like my father. Somebody should hand me some waders and fly fishing rod and send me off to stand in a river, pondering what my idiot son was up to.
Sure enough, I got asked to stop by a trendy joint in the Village for a cocktail after work. I politely declined. No excuses. I told them I was dressed like my father and wouldn't be welcomed into such a fine establishment. They'd pelt me with last year's LL Bean catalog and refuse entry.
Paging Mr. Bauer, Mr. Eddie Bauer... Please pick up the white courtesy phone.
. Everything I'm wearing today except for my Adidas and "unmentionables" is from Eddie Bauer. Even my coat 
. 
. I felt it on my birthday last month as I climbed into that dreaded next age bracket on surveys. Towncrier even said he could see the glow from my birthday cake candles all the way up in Ohio 
! 
. And my wardrobe proves it.
.
