Mr. Young Master helping his students settle in on the first day of school by describing for them what the summer session will look like.
And Mr. Young Master's class. A real menagerie before he called class to order.
Sartorially, not much going on here at Totleigh-in-the-Wold. Summers are pretty quiet here attire-wise. However, The Young Master and I do toss on decent looking, casual though collared shirts of one sort or another daily when we dress each morning along with with (my) chino, Bermuda, or Madras shorts and (his) jeans.
The Young Master sports a recent acquisition above, one of a number of new polo shirts his mother, The Grand Duchess, purchased for him last month given his rapid growth since January. Children grow like weeds as the saying goes.
As for me, otherwise known as 'Bad Dad' around these parts, I'm wearing a new seersucker number this morning, a Father's Day gift yesterday, with tiny navy, light blue, red, teal, and white checks. On the bottom half, very light khaki shorts with a 9" inseam, an olive green surcingle belt, and my usual very well-worn leather Sebago dock-siders on the feet.
I simply cannot fathom, as I remark so often here, why so many men walk around looking like shambling mounds of wrinkled, soiled laundry in 2020. It's really not that difficult -- or a hardship -- to present oneself well and pull oneself together. Even at home in warm weather.
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