This is the only thing Taylor has ever worn of which I've been jealous.

(News! Sweaters!)²

Our apartment building continues to get 2* newspapers delivered to the front stoop every morning. One of them is mine. The other is not. Are you listening creepy guy upstairs‽ THE OTHER IS NOT. Now get off my back.

This green v-neck is a recent purchase out on its maiden voyage today. Leslie wanted me to get it in grey. As usual, I didn't heed her advice and got the green one. This strategy usually works out pretty well for me. She did find me a sweet jacket though.

*Don't be confused by the 4 you see here. That's just an effect of digital photography.

Thrifting in Out of the Way Locales

This afternoon I rode over to The Bethesda House of Thrift  out on the eastside to do some perusing of previously worn garments and to continue my support of the sharing of Christ's love. I was in search of some Halloween accoutrement: a suit, some skinny ties, a pocket square, some un-nyloned socks to go with my sock garters. And there was great success, including a $1 suit (an orange tag special!) and my very first cardigan of my own. I think this trip was not only the highlight of my day, but also that of the little old ladies who work there. They really appreciated how good I look in a suit, even if it's one that was made in the '60's. 

On the way home I got caught in Madison's first snow flurries of the season.

This is my bike handlebar.

Tommy, Your Pants are Ready.

Early on in our relationship Tommy saw me sew a button back onto a shirt of mine. This was during the hallowed days of 420 W. Gorham, so there was probably a Kings of Leon album playing in the background. Also, there's roughly a 45% chance that Rishi was cooking fish in the kitchen and Alex was either on the phone with his crazy ex-girlfriend or on the phone talking about his crazy ex-girlfriend. Anyway, this seems to have turned me into the guy who knows how to sew. Or, alternatively, Tommy's personal seamstress seamster. Over the years I've worked on a number of projects for him, including a jacket of which I'm particularly proud. The latest being these jeans, which had worn out in the "sensitive area".


As you can see I am no master sewer [watch your pronunciation here], but more of a utilitarian one. Besides, I'm better known for my dog covers.

On a related note, is the fact that I mend another man's clothes something I shouldn't share with the world?

That's How We Roll?

Last weekend was spent in Chicago, courtesy of Sysco Food Services. That meant cocktails and dinner at Petterino's Saturday night, VIP passes to the Doobie Brothers concert at the House of Blues Sunday, and a room at the Sheraton Towers until Tuesday. As a result, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night were all marked by open-bars and we didn't make it back to Madison until Tuesday afternoon. The extended time spent with Leslie (and her family) basically turned us into a married couple, albeit one that still sleeps in separate beds. We even seemingly had children for a time when we (both 6'3") meet another friend of mine, Kate, and her boyfriend Tate (really), both of whom are 5'1" (literally). One of the great achievements of the trip, and ostensibly the whole reason for me going to Chicago, was the purchase of a suit. I learned two things from this experience:

1. I look really good in a suit. (I may have already known this)
2. I'm the same size as a mannequin.

Besides for the snide remark about how long I wanted my jacket to be from the hyper-fashioned salesman at Barney's with a disturbingly short tie, the whole suit-buying process was surprisingly easy. The dark charcoal Hugo Boss number with a subtle light blue pinstripe was just what I was looking for. Perfect for upstaging the brothers in June, and it fit like it was made for me right off the rack.