Greenery-Yallery

Not sure how this yellow theme manifested but it began yesterday. Our weather remains the twain of moderate-chilly-wet-dry…wreaking havoc on the sartorial decision model. I threw on green cords yesterday with yellow wool socks and Ralph shell cordovan tassels. 

While walking to lunch I began channeling the line from Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience…."greenery-yallery, Grosvenor Gallery". Ever get a line intractably stuck in your head? The more you attempt extrication, at least for me, the more recalcitrant and embedded the mutha becomes. The greenery yallery line quickly became tenaciously sticky-more so than echoes of bad 1970’s songs and admonishments from LFG’s mom that used to hang on forever.

I loved learning about the genesis of The Grosvenor Gallery-late of Bond Street in London. A serious retort to the establishment centric and traditionally ensconced Royal Academy. The infamous Whistler-Ruskin spat manifested courtesy of a Whistler exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery.

Ruskin was a crotchety mutton chopped crank by the time he and my boy Jimmy Whistler had a run in. Proof positive of my assertion is reflected in the Vanity Fair image of Ruskin.

As opposed to the jaunty ass style of white forelocked Whistler...here captured for Vanity Fair by Sir Leslie Ward "Spy". Whistler's mama was from North Carolina.

Ruskin said of this Whistler painting…. “For Mr. Whistler’s own sake, no less than for the protection of the purchaser, Sir Coutts Lindsay ought not to have admitted works into the gallery in which the ill-educated conceit of the artist so nearly approached the aspect of willful imposture. I have seen, and heard, much of cockney impudence before now; but never expected a coxcomb to ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face”

Nocturne in Black and Gold – The Falling Rocket

Bottom line on the controversial painting-at least for me is this…If you can’t see that this is a view of Battersea Bridge then you are flat out not smoking enough dope or drinking enough hooch. I mean come on-anyone can see it. WTF was up with Ruskin?

The Freer Gallery here in D.C. had a brilliant show many years ago that faithfully reproduced two rooms of the Grosvenor Gallery and displayed authentically the identical Whistler works in the exact locations on the same yellow washed Grosvenor Gallery-esque walls. I visited the exhibition three times.

Read At the Temple of Art: The Grosvenor Gallery, 1877-1890 by Colleen Denny if the late 19^th century London art scene and its key players interests you. No, you can’t borrow my copy-I don’t lend my books.

Yellow ... and Green-who knows-I sure don’t. I do know that yellow isn’t a flattering color. Wait till I muster the courage to finally post my senior prom pictures and you’ll see what I mean. I looked like a damned banana. Not sure what yellow evokes but it seems to evoke something.

I love my Macintosh and actually had the Flusseroids create one in a shade brighter than the de rigueur yaller offered. Shut up. 

It's obvious that I like women in yellow. 

Big women and regular sized honeys. I just like women...damn.

Since I accidentally contrived yesterday’s rig-I’ve seen green and yellow…mostly yellow… everywhere.Gearshift knobs included.

 I think I’m coming down with something. 

Shit man-malaria? Yellow Fever?

I'm seeing it on LFG-Halloween

LFG-Yellow Pajamas

LFG Caricature of Me-Daddy in Yellow

Yellow and Green Merkin

I unknowingly began the yellow and green thing years ago it seems.

Yellow shirt-baseball hat from two weeks ago...help me. Shut up.

Oh...and we've got green suede Flusser shoddings over here as well.

Even my two sartorial mistakes…or at least one of the two lands in the “greenery yallery” realm…

“….many a smile you put on my face. But I paid dearly with the tears I taste….” 

Marvin Gaye

My Mistake….I can remember the song playing on the jukebox at the fratty house. Three in the morning, soggy waxed paper cup of draft beer in hand, navy blue Weejuns on the south end of my contrivance. I'm belting out lyrics with Marvin, Diana and some date. I was, at that moment, seriously in love with my date. Can’t remember who she was but I’m sure at that instant I wasn’t thinking about making mistakes.

My regrets are few. Hindsight is breathtakingly arrogant methinks. I do have two rather pricey clothing gaffes. I wish I could take a mulligan on these two sportcoats. Seemed like good ideas at the time. Funny how that changes when they arrive from the tailor. Both of these sartorial boondoggles come from Mssrs. Flusser et al. Not blaming them in the least for these indiscretions. My bad. They just executed my requests.

Mistake Number One-Bottle Green Flannel Blazer

I'm a walking snooker table in this thing. Alan Flusser did an article a zillion years ago highlighting best dressed men. Phil Miller, then CEO of Saks was featured in a bottle green blazer. I’m thinking I gotta have one of these. It also harkened back to the days of the green flannel staple at Brooks Brothers. They offered this alternative to the navy flannel blazer for years.
Part of the tragedy of this one is the fact that it fits better than almost anything in my closet. Something about how the fabric and thread came together for this one that just fits like a glove. My “house” model-single breasted peak lapels. Three button rolled to the second. Open patch pockets. Side vents. Simple enough alternative to navy right? I don’t know. It’s departed my home maybe three times since I took possession of it in 2000. Bottom line on both of these babies is that I can’t accessories them. Don’t know how to rig it up and trust me-riggin’ ain’t a defined weakness of mine.

The guy who wrote this was lying his a*s off.

Mistake Number Two-Orange Sherbet Shady Acres Retirement Sportcoat

What a cluster fox trot this one turned out to be. This thing just begs a complementary Full Cleveland. Ditto the model and almost ditto the fit of the abovementioned Green Hornet. I wanted a solid color summer sportcoat. Something a bit less wrinkly than 100% linen so out comes the wool-silk-linen swatch book. Seems to me that in swatch ganders past; the size of the cloth scrap was large enough to be representative of the impending creation. This one showed up and was much more “orange” than I figured it would be. Bottom line, it’s too “resorty” looking and I don’t hang out in South Florida enough to warrant this one. Powder blue cotton lisle knit shirt and white linen trousers knock this one out of the ballpark. But only if you are chairman of the social committee at Club Del Boca Vista. And I ain’t ready for the Del scene yet.
This one also has a vaguely redeeming element. The hand felled button holes are stellar. LBJ Gallbladder keloid and then some.

Ralph Colony Model cream gabardine couldn't resurrect this retirement party rig. Oy.

Alas, I’ll keep them both and who knows, one day I’ll have a breakthrough and suddenly land on a reason, destination or rationale for rigging these bad boys up again.

Enjoy Marvin and Diana….