As I was dressing for school this evening I decided to wear my new double-breasted gray flannel chalk stripe suit. It looked great, but as I sat in the car, I felt a rip, followed by a cold breeze, in my posterior. The pants had torn clean open. Further inspection revealed that the previous owner had paid for some pretty shoddy tailoring. It had nothing to do with eating cookies at 1:00 a.m. in front of the computer.
Anyway, I ran back in the house to change. Now I was in a hurry. In a pinch this is what I came up with.
I love these Black Watch slacks, but I'll be damned if they';re not a tough match. Tonight, I tried them with a burgundy foulard bow tie, navy blazer, white oxford, brown suede shoes and grey tweed cap.
Sometimes I'm a fan of the look of things that maybe don't match, except maybe they do. In such a hurry as I was, any sensible person might have reached for grey flannels, navy blazer and striped tie, a no fail combination. But for some reason, this outfit threw itself at me. I felt comfortable in it, and I'm about 85% sure I pulled it off.
Every time I wear these pants I get a lesson in what the phrase "Go To Hell Pants" means. I catch everybody staring at them, but no one dares say a word...because they all know they can go to hell.
