Today was an exercise in cheap luxury: a bunch of cheap gear brought up by a few luxury accessories...which were also cheap, score one for the good guys.
A Burberry scarf, 50% wool, 50% cashmere(heisted from Mrs. G., $1.99), goes well with a Lands End down vest, $12.50 at end of season sale last year, military issue khakis, $5.49, and a vintage wool varsity sweater.
Completed by a grey herringbone driving cap I bought eight years ago.
Indoors, the luxury carries through in the tie by Mr. Sid, $0.99, coupled with a uni stripe oxford by Ralph, button down collar pinned in a fit of hopeless affectation. I know, its an egregious affront to a million things, a shameless aping of a trick found on Polo mannequins and in Polo ads...but our boy Fred Astaire was known to be doing it at least 30 years before Ralph launched Polo, and that's good enough for me. I pull this trick about three times a year these days...besides, admit it, this foolish detail makes the outfit, doesn't it?
If I seem to be flexing my less than ripped "fashionisto" muscles today, it's because I can't help it. Old buddy Pasquale and I are traveling to New York this weekend, to visit some ex-patriot Bostonian friends, eat, drink, and attend the Pop Up Flea on Saturday. I'll be traveling in the clothes on my back, plus an extra large tote bag containing a clean shirt, tie, socks, underwear and shaving kit. I'll be honest with you, the prospect of running into Michael Williams, Mr. Mort, the Sart and even Tin Tin in the same place scares me to death, and already has me on my toes. I've been thinking the matter over for weeks.
Cripes, I might as well be a teen-age girl...yikes!
