National Seersucker Day +1. . .

 

Sadly, I always seem to miss this one since we are over a month into the summer lull by the date, I am home most of the time, and have shifted to shorts and various short-sleeved sport shirts of one kind or another.  Although yesterday there was apparently some kind of BIG seersucker event at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac (pronounced 'Mack-i-naw) Island in Northern Michigan, of all places, sponsored by Haspel.

Go figure.

While nowhere near as dandy as yours truly sometimes is, my late father had and wore a similar suit during the summers when he was an exec for the brokerage house that at one time was bullish on America as the TV commercials used to say.  This was, of course, back when many more men wore suits and in colors beside navy, charcoal, and (shudder) black.  

At one time, you actually would see nicely dressed men attired in taupes, tans (during the summer), subtle patterns, subtle stripes, and the occasional tasteful brown in addition.  Mind you, that was in Manhattan, and to some degree the Philadelphia area, but I suspect the male corporate scene was similar in large U.S. cities elsewhere too.  At what point did suits become limited to navy, charcoal, and black?

Encouragingly, I spotted a number of men, of various ages, in taupes, tans, and various shades of gray suits while navigating Washington's Regan National airport last week.  It can be done, guys.  Contrary to popular wisdom, the suit ain't quite dead regardless of whatever the t-shirted and terminally hoodied crowd might like to tell themselves. 

However, I digress.

In honor of the recent National Seersucker Day 2025,I thought I'd repost photos from late August or early September 2022 of my own garb.  A vintage number from Abercrombie and Fitch from a time when that still meant something.  This is the point in the late summer each year when I sport my own seersucker suit and Madras neckties a few times before the weather cools enough for flannel, tweed, and corduroy to make a reappearance. 

Needless to say, I stick out like a sore thumb here in Mid-Michigan, which means that I am not well-dressed if we follow strict sartorial orthodoxy.  You can't win 'em all I suppose, but I'll live.  Somehow.

-- Heinz-Ulrich