A Sunny and Temperate Madras Tuesday. . .

A delightful late summer's day here in Mid-Michigan. I dressed accordingly for another jaunt to campus, where I was able to get in a few hours of uninterrupted preparation work for the upcoming semester plus a meeting with a (Turkish) colleague. We are serving together on a couple of different committees this year.

A very pleasant way to spend the first half of the day, made even better with a vintage Madras jacket from Corbin and a Land's End 'Signature' oxford cloth button-down collar shirt among other items. A fantastic collar roll today, if I do say so myself, by the way.

You have to be comfortable with sticking out like a sore thumb when wearing a Madras sports jacket. There are no two ways about it. But then, if you are dressed reasonably well in most places outside of very large city centers in the United States in 2022, you already stick out like a sore thumb anyway.

It certainly helps if one develops and approaches the rest of the world with -- to borrow from the Yiddish and Spanish languages respectively -- a certain amount of chutzpah and brass cajones. Indeed, one commenter advised as much in a recent discussion about double-breasted navy blazers in the Ivy Style forum a day or three ago.

Self-confidence is key in all things.

-- 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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