So I've been reading The Sartorialist lately. Starting with the first article back in 2005. I really want to see this man's evolution with his blog and himself. And I'm plowing through it. Goddamn is it inspiring. He talks all about style and quality. Not fashion and labels. I could listen to talk of Italian wool crepe, suiting finishes, and dimple vs. pleat on the double windsor for ages. He writes so knowledgeably and articulately about clothing, style and craftsmanship without ever being condescending. It's a fucking revelation.
Anywho. It all got me thinking about A. Why do I know so much about menswear and suiting? B. Why do I give such a shit? And the answer, surprisingly was my mother. If you were to ask me point-blank if my mother was a stylish woman, my knee-jerk answer would be no. The reason being, she doesn't dress that inventively for herself. She lives in black jeans, black boots and black sweaters and when she has to wear a dress, well let's not go there.
But for years [35 years this June!] she's been dressing my father. And boy has she. The man has been donning slim cut, slight break, cuffed 3-piece [pocket watch with chain looped through the vest hole] tweed suits, with flawlessly shined mahogany colored wing tips, brooks brothers shirts, single windsor tie with the perfect pleat and [weather permitting] jaunty tartan scarf, trench, and coordinating irish donegal tweed hat. And that was for relaxing on saturday! Did I mention my dad was a pipe smoker? Most days dear old dad looked like Bertie Wooster.
But with a far less nit-witted grin.
[Jeeves and Wooster is a family favorite and a must for any sartorialist]
It seems my darling mother has real passion and know-how when it comes to menswear and little interest in what passes for women's wear these days. Personally I think she should just pull an Annie Hall and rock the suiting herself.
My mother has a real eye for quality and detail. She gets excited about good craftsmanship and attentive construction. I may have inherited a trait or two from the lovely lady.
Reading The Sartorialist, as he writes so passionately and with such vim and vigor about the little things. He just brings me back.
I could go on and on about the style, etiquette and savvy that my mother has passed on to me over the years. And I will, in this section I'm going to call, Thanks, Mom.
So it needs to be said. Thanks, Mom. I think you did real good. xoxo