The Dark Things That Hide In The Back Of Your Closet. [August 25th, 2010]
Oh, Hell Yeah, you knew this post was coming. And don’t you sit there and look at me like I’m the only one, either! We all have our share of wardrobe ghouls and goblins that hang mummified; with a vintage coat of spiderwebs on them. I was doing a little spring cleaning and found these K&G suits that I bought before law school. Doing the math, that means that just 3 years ago, I was walking around looking like the charitable beneficiary of an unfortunate wardrobe that once belonged to someone much bigger, and with terrible taste. Only, these were clothes that I bought with my own money, thinking I was getting a great deal. We all have to start somewhere. Many of us don’t know any better, so we cobble our pennies together, and march into the local K&G or Men’s Warehouse. After all, they guarantee that we’ll love the way we look, right? Stores like this might as well be called “Fisher Price My First Suit.” In a way though, I think these big-box stores are actually necessary. Much in the same way that its necessary for an addict to hit rock-bottom before he can begin making his way towards sobriety. One agonizing step at a time; and only after apologizing to everyone that he hurt on his way down. Part of me thinks that I had to first look ridiculous, before I could truly appreciate, and yearn for, the feeling of looking good. So let’s hear it for the bones in our closets. The sartorial versions of the relatively unattractive girl you first made out with in junior-high. You know, the one whose eyes would meet yours, years later in the high school hallways, while you said furtive inward prayers that she would never speak publicly of your intertwined past. Take solace in the fact that the best looking person you know once looked like a train wreck. And if you still find yourself tied to the tracks, that’s alright. Things can only get better. Just put your hands up. And step slowly…away…from the square-toed shoes.
Editor’s Note: I considered doing fit pics in these items before I donated them, but I have too much pride, and refuse to give you such satisfaction at my expense. Needless to say, they all look hideous. Also, I’m not actually sure if donating these things counts as charity, or a disservice to my fellow man. Either way, charitable tax deduction holla!