It’s almost over, party people: the week, the month, the year. We can do this. In the meantime, our friend Jim Williamson has some woes he’d like to discuss with you. You have been waiting for weeks for a designer tuxedo to arrive for a fancy destination wedding. It finally arrives, and you put it on, and it looks like you are swimming in a sea of black wool. What do you do?
First you think, “I have got to call the tailor and do some major begging.” But then you look again and realize that the entire thing just needs to be recut. And that’s not going to happen in the next six days. So then you simply panic. That’s what I’m doing at this very minute. I’m also clawing at the bottom of my briefcase in search of the crumbs of a smashed Xanax.
You might think I have a closet full of clothes, and indeed, I do have quite a few items that hang in a much smaller closet than the one prior to my cohabitation. But that’s another story. But prior to my move, I donated at least 13 running feet (in a double hung closet) of clothing and shoes to charity. My plan was to replace many of the articles, and that just hasn’t happened yet.
Last decade was my time of cocktail attire. In those days, I would go to the opening of a roll of toilet paper. These last 10 years have been about keeping things more casual. In trying to mix things up in the wardrobe department, I actually decided to wear a tie the other day. The responses were not the best: “Is someone important coming today?” “Is there something wrong?” “Did someone pass?” “Do you realize you look like a cast member for the Book of Mormon?”
So there’s that. Plus, every time I buy some beautiful article of clothing, nine times out of 10, it gets ruined. It’s usually through no fault of my own other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. This week, I had on one of my favorite Viktor and Rolf shirts. I was feeling pretty cute when I remembered I had to pick up Big Ray and give him some ear medication. Cats don’t like you to put things in their ears. But as I was also equipped with a can of food, I figured I had nothing to worry about. Then something outside made a loud noise and spooked him, so he clamp down with those hind claws vaulting himself off my chest and down the stairs leaving me with a gaping hole in my shirt. Another designer piece gone down the drain.
I can’t forget the time I had just purchased a beautiful summer-weight Prada suit. I had it on no more than an hour when a loose piece of metal on a client’s coffee table went RIP across my pants. The real kicker, the client didn’t even offer to buy me a new pair of pants after his evil cocktail table accosted me. But you can rest assured that that particular table never harmed another piece of designer clothing or held a cocktail again. Can you say wood chipper?
So that has been my luck with designer clothing and why I don’t want to spend money on a tuxedo that will just hang in the closet until the next event in probably another decade. So please, wish me luck and at least a 65 percent discount on my frantic search for a tuxedo this weekend. Maybe Tim Rogers has a few suggestions. It’s too bad we aren’t the same size because I understand his tux is rather indestructible. With that, I wish you all a very happy holiday and the merriest of New Year’s.
