Summer Weather Is Almost Here!

Staying cool with a vintage Madras sports jacket in early September 2018.

A selection of personal photographs today, from various late spring and summer seasons gone by, that illustrate how to beat the heat while looking somewhat more presentable than most men traipsing through life in 2019.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

A selection of warm weather neckties. The three at far left were purchased new over several years. The rest were thrifted or, in the case of the four cotton Madras numbers at center, purchased from a vintage clothier.

A nod to my North Carolina roots. Yours truly barbecuing two pork shoulders during Memorial Day weekend in 2008. Red slaw and hushpuppies with copious amounts of sugary Lipton iced tea completed the meal once the pork had cooled enough to pull for sandwiches. This was back in the days when The Grand Duchess and I could still find the time to ride 200 miles a week on our road bikes between May-August, so we were able to inhale as much of the stuff as possible in a sitting without worrying about the sheer number of calories.

Yours truly in his old basement office just a month of so before we decamped for Mid-Michigan in June 2015.

A few pairs of shorts that see considerable wear between May and late September each year barring the odd chilly, rainy day or two.

A selection of my warm weather short-sleeved shirts: Madras, seersucker, twill, and knit polo.

One of the vintage Madras neckties shown above. This one, by Rooster, was actually made in Sri Lanka.

A linen sports jacket from Southwick that is usually paired with a lighter colored pair of odd linen pants.

The upper half of vintage seersucker suit from Abercrombie & Fitch before it became the purview of the junior high school set, as cool as the Polo linen suit that hangs next to it in my wardrobe.

A Belvest cotton suit worn with a panama hat. Yes. I could be an extra in the hotel lobby scenes from The Maltese Falcon.

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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