The Suit
The Spouse is a casual guy, a jeans-and-t-shirt guy. He has one suit, which is not even a proper suit, that he has owned since before we were married. This “suit” is trotted out perhaps 3 times a year. Being a typical straight guy, he is not a fan of the shopping. Aside from replacing his tennis shoes every six months and a slight fetish about coats, he confines his
wardrobe spending to the once-every-two-years spree at JC Penny’s for a new pair of Dockers and a few polo shirts.
The upcoming Wedding seemed a very good reason, in my opinion, to spring for a new suit. The Child and I are both going to be looking super fantastic and he is, after all, an usher. He did not necessarily give a flying hooha and in fact, when we were trying to find a time to go shopping offered many variations on the “What I have is fine” theme. I persisted. On Monday he called into work “exhausted” from his movie-making weekend. The opportunity was seized.
There are any number of places we could have gone but I maintained that Nordstrom was the best spot. The Spouse has lost a nice bit of weight over the last few years. He doesn’t even really know his actual size anymore. We needed a store where the salespeople are knowledgeable and helpful, as opposed to the salespeople at Macy’s, for example, who are paid to ignore you.
Sure enough, a very nice man named Brett approached us immediately to offer his assistance. He listened. He understood that we were looking for one good suit of timeless design that would serve Mr. Jeans & a T-shirt for the next 15 years. He pulled a jacket from the rack and it fit like it was tailored to The Spouse’s specifications. It was a light grey wool and looked terrific. Brett showed him a few other jackets but none of us liked them more than the first one. So off we went to the back room. Brett got The Spouse into a dressing room and settled me in a big chair with a bottle of Perrier. (I felt a little like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” at that point).
There was another woman in there with me. A well-dressed, coiffed and perfectly made-up woman. (I too was well dressed, coiffed and made up but she had an airbrushed quality that is not easily duplicated by the average housewife). Her husband/boyfriend/pet kept coming out in various ensembles, which she would then loudly critique with comments about how the color washed him out or how the jeans looked like they were up his butt. The husband/boyfriend/pet did not seem to mind these comments but I took it as a cautionary tale. Getting The Spouse into a serviceable suit was one thing. Emasculating him in the process, not so much.
Not that there was any danger of withering comments anyway because The Spouse looked, in the words of that bard Paris Hilton, hot. A very proper German tailor was introduced, who asked The Spouse some questions and then marked the suit with a few deft strokes of his tailor’s chalk. He shook our hands, told The Spouse it was a pleasure to work with him and left.
Meanwhile, Brett had brought in some shirts and ties. The Spouse does have some definite opinions in this regard (pale colors, stripes not checks). He decided on a basic white shirt (for now) and picked out a really gorgeous tie. And then a little metrosexual chip clicked on in his brain. After saying something about coming back “after the wedding” for some other shirts, he mentioned that he would need a belt and “as long as we’re at it” a new pair of dress shoes. (Terrific Cole Hahn loafers. With tassels. I’m kvelling). Oh, and don’t forget the 2 new pairs of dress socks, one black, one grey.
The final tally was, shall we say, impressive. Although, the cost amortized out over the life of the suit was a mere pittance. I can do more damage at Ann Taylor in 20 minutes. The Spouse is now ready for The Wedding, as well as any other special occasion/dinner/meeting with executives that could come his way in the foreseeable future.
He is now being very Norwegian and “no big deal, it’s just a suit” about it all. He will likely look oddly at anyone who makes too emphatic a compliment when he is in it. But I’m glad he got some new duds. He deserves them. And did I mention that he looks hot?
wardrobe spending to the once-every-two-years spree at JC Penny’s for a new pair of Dockers and a few polo shirts.
The upcoming Wedding seemed a very good reason, in my opinion, to spring for a new suit. The Child and I are both going to be looking super fantastic and he is, after all, an usher. He did not necessarily give a flying hooha and in fact, when we were trying to find a time to go shopping offered many variations on the “What I have is fine” theme. I persisted. On Monday he called into work “exhausted” from his movie-making weekend. The opportunity was seized.
There are any number of places we could have gone but I maintained that Nordstrom was the best spot. The Spouse has lost a nice bit of weight over the last few years. He doesn’t even really know his actual size anymore. We needed a store where the salespeople are knowledgeable and helpful, as opposed to the salespeople at Macy’s, for example, who are paid to ignore you.
Sure enough, a very nice man named Brett approached us immediately to offer his assistance. He listened. He understood that we were looking for one good suit of timeless design that would serve Mr. Jeans & a T-shirt for the next 15 years. He pulled a jacket from the rack and it fit like it was tailored to The Spouse’s specifications. It was a light grey wool and looked terrific. Brett showed him a few other jackets but none of us liked them more than the first one. So off we went to the back room. Brett got The Spouse into a dressing room and settled me in a big chair with a bottle of Perrier. (I felt a little like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” at that point).
There was another woman in there with me. A well-dressed, coiffed and perfectly made-up woman. (I too was well dressed, coiffed and made up but she had an airbrushed quality that is not easily duplicated by the average housewife). Her husband/boyfriend/pet kept coming out in various ensembles, which she would then loudly critique with comments about how the color washed him out or how the jeans looked like they were up his butt. The husband/boyfriend/pet did not seem to mind these comments but I took it as a cautionary tale. Getting The Spouse into a serviceable suit was one thing. Emasculating him in the process, not so much.
Not that there was any danger of withering comments anyway because The Spouse looked, in the words of that bard Paris Hilton, hot. A very proper German tailor was introduced, who asked The Spouse some questions and then marked the suit with a few deft strokes of his tailor’s chalk. He shook our hands, told The Spouse it was a pleasure to work with him and left.
Meanwhile, Brett had brought in some shirts and ties. The Spouse does have some definite opinions in this regard (pale colors, stripes not checks). He decided on a basic white shirt (for now) and picked out a really gorgeous tie. And then a little metrosexual chip clicked on in his brain. After saying something about coming back “after the wedding” for some other shirts, he mentioned that he would need a belt and “as long as we’re at it” a new pair of dress shoes. (Terrific Cole Hahn loafers. With tassels. I’m kvelling). Oh, and don’t forget the 2 new pairs of dress socks, one black, one grey.
The final tally was, shall we say, impressive. Although, the cost amortized out over the life of the suit was a mere pittance. I can do more damage at Ann Taylor in 20 minutes. The Spouse is now ready for The Wedding, as well as any other special occasion/dinner/meeting with executives that could come his way in the foreseeable future.
He is now being very Norwegian and “no big deal, it’s just a suit” about it all. He will likely look oddly at anyone who makes too emphatic a compliment when he is in it. But I’m glad he got some new duds. He deserves them. And did I mention that he looks hot?
Labels: shoes
cobbled together by Moi at 9:14 AM
10 Comments:
Welcome, Sass. Drop by any time.
"Bard" is probably the nicest 4 letter word Paris has ever been called.
I think it would be lovely if you and The Spouse both posed for blog photos.
JP, There will be photos. I promise.
Yes, Charlie, a little male prettification now and again is a good thing for the world.
Can't wait for the post with pictures after the wedding.
He sounds so much like My Spouse, who is also a jeans and t-shirt guy and whose "dress" wardrobe consists of Dockers and polo shirts as well. We had a similar shopping experience a few years back, and I was also struck by how hot he was in nice duds. I can't wait for pics of the three of you all duded up! :)
I haven't owned a suit for many years, infact the last neck tie I wore was a western longhorn and I've never been 'fitted' for anything. Unless you count my parents taking me shopping when I was a kid...:P
Guys really do like to dress well...We just don't like the whole shopping deal.
That's why God invented wives.
Gina, This parallel universe thing has GOT to stop.
Grish, Do I know what a longhorn tie is? Do I want to know?
Sling, I suspect truer words were never spoken.
How fun is it that after all these years we still find our husbands "hot"? Very lucky we are.
And then there is this type of couple: http://www.hatchetphoenix.blogspot.com/
Lorraine - straighten this little twerp out, would ya? Your marriage advice for the Bride and her Prince was totally on point and worth re-reading every once in a while as a reminder.
Well what I call a Longhorn might be called something else up North but its just a fancy piece of leather you put around your neck and it has a fancifull dobble in front to cover the top button. Kinda like this - or this of course in the south families often times make up their own names for things and my wife being from from farther north said it was called a Bolo tie. Her's is probably correct...:)
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