A Friday Meeting in March Style. . .

The upper half on this chilly Friday afternoon.

And the lower half, featuring a pair of well-worn olive corduroy pants and some suede Allen Edmonds brogues. The unseen suede belt matches the shoes.

A close-up of today's pocket square in use. Now, the funny thing about this particular pocket square, which gets a lot of use, is this. . .

It's really a small lady's silk scarf (Surprise!), but at about 17" square, it's just the right size to masqerade as a pocket square. Not really that much difference between the two items when you think about it though. I stumbled upon it six or eight years ago in a thrift/charity shop for 50 cents or a dollar, and it works nicely in repurposed form.

Normally, I am not on campus most Fridays since most of my courses are of the Monday through Thursday variety. Occasionally, however, there is reason to make the 15-minute trip into campus for some committee meeting, faculty learning group, visiting scholar presentation, or similar event, all of which provide a nice excuse to shower, shave, and make myself somewhat more presentable than the usual rugby top and corduroy jeans for Fridays at home between late October and mid-May each year.

Here's an example of today's get-up for very early Spring. Once you reach a critical mass of sorts with classic menswear, it's really easy to mix and match and toss on an interesting combination of clothes without too much thought. And voila. . . Instant semi-responsible and capable adult! Or at least the appearance thereof.

We know otherwise, don't we?

-- Heinz-Ulrich

Comments

Avoid Careless Chatter. . .

E specially about the personal details of our lives. There is a lot that OUGHT to be kept more private in 2022 than has become the accepted norm for many. With the conscious and intentional cultivation of classic style in mind, however, we want to avoid oversharing and keep a bit more of ourselves to ourselves. Exactly what personal information and how much of it to keep private seems to be a slippery concept though. Here’s my take based on what I was told and observed as a child and young person at home. Basically, one should keep oneself to oneself in all respects (finances, personal worth, accomplishments, politics, sex, dirty laundry, etc.). As my late father used to advise when we were very small, and I am talking preschool and kindergarten, there were particular subjects that were not discussed outside the immediate family. There is a time and place for sharing certain details of one’s life, but most of the time, those should be played very close to the chest,

Chilly Late April Wednesday Attire. . .

Y ou know, if it is going to remain this cold and blustery, I need about eight inches of snow for some more cross-country skiing. But since the white stuff is long gone, it was time to fish through the cedar closet down in Zum Stollenkeller and pull out some cold weather attire for a seasonal reboot. But I decided to forgo the usual gray herringbone jacket from J. Press (my go-to tweed sports jacket) and instead opted for this number from Hart, Schaffner, and Marx plus the tan cords that hang on the same hanger, so strenuous mental effort was not required. Pressed the shirt after tucking in the Young Master last night at 8:30, grabbed these shoes, and socks, and Bob is your mother's brother as they say. Occasionally gazing through the large library window to my immediate left this morning, and I keep hearing that old Jobim tune drift through my mind this morning (aided by the windmills), as sung by Astrud Gilberto ( together with Leonard Cohen and Paolo Conte, the musi

The Pleasaures of a Well-trained Dog. . .

A few final photographs from my visit to my sister in Washington, D.C. last week. These include one of 'Mr. Beau,' my sister's meticulously trained and truly wonderful Doberman, another of my sister, second cousin, step-father, and yours truly on the steps of the church outside Lexington, North Carolina just after our late mother's interment service, two of me solo at the National Cathedral, and a final one of my sister and me hamming it up during a long evening walk the day before I returned to Michigan. My sister routinely walks to the cathedral, about three blocks from her place, to enjoy the grounds and gardens. The Bishop's Garden, in particular, is a place she likes to sit for quiet contemplation and internal dialogues with our late maternal grandparents and mother, very much in keeping with the Episcopal side of things. Our grandfather, who was raised Methodist, became an Episcopalian when he married our grandmother. Before you ask, I am not sure tha

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