Suits My Style
'...and how is the fit Sir, do you like the cut?'. I'm at a suit store today trying the ranges of Pierre Cardin, Hugo Boss, Versace ( that costs the same as a Vespa), Gazman and what have you for, count them, three upcoming weddings and maybe a day at the Melbourne races. I have no idea what this guy has just asked me but I feign understanding and casually look at the price tag on the jacket sleeve.
' I'll go for something a little.....'
' Cheaper?' offers the salesman guy after looking me up and down for about the eighth time. I dress like I've lost a bet.
' Excellent.' I reply as he steers me towards a range of suits more in my price range. I'm expecting weirdly stitched suits that are the fabric equivalent of Frankenstein's Monster but they are actually quite elegant looking. Not bad at all.
The suit salesman guy has the demeanour of a Maitre d' at an upper class restaurant that serves endangered animals for the main course. One of those unflappable personalities that can come across a group of hooligans stabbing each other with shrimp forks after a disagreement over who ordered the Dodo Flambe and cough gently. Suddenly everyone will be at ease and be back to Sorry-Old-Boy mode and even help cauterise wounds inflicted. A calming influence- just what I need because I get a little defensive when I go to purchase things that I know nothing about and costs a bit over a months rent.
I'll admit I get a bit tetchy with buying expensive things. It basically means that I'll have something important that might break/ burn/ get stolen one day. But a nice suit is worth it I think. After all these weddings are over, and if I live longer than the guys sharing nupitals, then I can wear the same suits for their funerals. With appropriately dark ties of course.
I settle on a Dom Bagnato and a Van Heusen shirt in the end. I lob my bank card at the salesman guy so I can complete my purchase. And pray really hard that I've got enough money in the bank to pay for these things.
My, what big teeth you have,
Fatman
' I'll go for something a little.....'
' Cheaper?' offers the salesman guy after looking me up and down for about the eighth time. I dress like I've lost a bet.
' Excellent.' I reply as he steers me towards a range of suits more in my price range. I'm expecting weirdly stitched suits that are the fabric equivalent of Frankenstein's Monster but they are actually quite elegant looking. Not bad at all.
The suit salesman guy has the demeanour of a Maitre d' at an upper class restaurant that serves endangered animals for the main course. One of those unflappable personalities that can come across a group of hooligans stabbing each other with shrimp forks after a disagreement over who ordered the Dodo Flambe and cough gently. Suddenly everyone will be at ease and be back to Sorry-Old-Boy mode and even help cauterise wounds inflicted. A calming influence- just what I need because I get a little defensive when I go to purchase things that I know nothing about and costs a bit over a months rent.
I'll admit I get a bit tetchy with buying expensive things. It basically means that I'll have something important that might break/ burn/ get stolen one day. But a nice suit is worth it I think. After all these weddings are over, and if I live longer than the guys sharing nupitals, then I can wear the same suits for their funerals. With appropriately dark ties of course.
I settle on a Dom Bagnato and a Van Heusen shirt in the end. I lob my bank card at the salesman guy so I can complete my purchase. And pray really hard that I've got enough money in the bank to pay for these things.
My, what big teeth you have,
Fatman
posted by Fatman | 5:31 pm
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