Classic Style

  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

A few more photographs, taken by my sister during last week's visit to the Washington, D.C. branch of J. Press not far from Dupont Circle.   While I really like and enjoy our Michigan home (and how lucky we are to be within easy reach of major cross-country skiing areas in the winter), there is just no arguing that most national capitals have a level of sophistication -- in dress, behavior, interaction, institutional, and cultural outlets -- missing from daily life out in the provinces.   That's not a moral judgment you understand, but rather a feature that leaps out at you when meeting and observing people on the street, in restaurants, or frankly any other establishment.  My brief visit provided a much needed breath of fresh air.   How nice it is to dine out in a few places where most men sport either suits, blazers, or sports jackets with neckties and decent looking dress shoes.  The women were dressed correspondingly, the few children present were well-behaved, and people c

    L ast Thursday, among the other errands we had to address before leaving for North Carolina, my sister and I dropped by the D.C. branch of J. Press to have a look and for a little necktie shopping.  Sis lives about five minutes away by car, so we combined the trip with a jaunt down Embassy Row, which was interesting in and of itself. At J. Press, we were assisted by two delightful associates, one of whom has a Spanish-speaking father and an Italian-speaking mother.  Before I realized it, my sister and he were chatting away in, first Italian and then Spanish, before I asked a question about ties, and the conversation returned to English.   I knew already that my sister has an impressive command of Spanish, but I had no idea she was also highly conversant in Italian!  It makes sense since the two languages are in the same family. All in all, a fun side trip, and I will certainly drop in again on my next visit to the city and my sister.  Just the right kind of sales assistance, from t

  I 've got a few more photographs that I will share in the next few days, but here are three from my recent trip to Washington, D.C. and North Carolina, where we were finally able to inter our late mother's ashes almost two years after she left in August 2020 (not Covid related).  The attire shots were taken as I waited yesterday in the gate area at Dulles International. The memorial stone photograph at bottom is from Clear Springs Methodist Church in Lexington, North Carolina, started by three long dead great, great uncles (Uncle Curt, Uncle Croll, and Uncle Gurney).  Ol' Mom is finally at rest with our grandparents and amid several generations of cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other people who are somehow related.  A quiet, calm service -- what Mom asked my sister to arrange before she passed away -- on an early summer's day . -- Heinz-Ulrich

  I n full summer mode here at Classic Style , so that means various Madras, twill, seersucker, or pique knit tops and various shades of chino shorts (I like an inseam of between 6" to 9") with a ribbon belt of some kind.  Here is today's example thereof as I see to a few small things outside before the really hot weather arrives.   A nice feature of life in Michigan is that it never stays that hot for that long before a cooler front moves out of Canada and across The Great Lakes to our west and northwest.  As someone told us the first year were were here, "The summers are actually very pleasant." But the main point of today's post is neither as a promotion of Michigan, nor the new mulch underfoot.  Rather, it is to illustrate one more time that even the performance of domestic chores does not mean we have to appear looking like a methamphetamine addict, or the most down and out street person.   Nope.  Some faded old shorts and a polo shirt, as long as they

  A fter two months, Blogger has decided to allow me in the door once again, so I can add a long overdue post documenting my take on classic male style.  Since we are almost in the throes of summer, let's go with a warm weather theme this morning. Now, the items above will not be to everyone's taste:  Deck shoes without socks, shorts, pleats, skinny pale legs, etc.  All invite tisk-tisking and debate in certain online fora, but that's ok.   I wouldn't wear attire this to campus Monday through Friday, or to church.  But for relaxed, comfortable warm weather-wear around the house during the weekends, with maybe a quick trip down the road for a gallon of milk at the super market, this will do nicely, thank you very much.   It's certainly preferable to the wrinkled, torn, stained sloppy alternative we see everywhere in 2022.  Neither is it at all far removed from how the various men and boys across three generations of my extended family presented themselves during even