Monday, March 29, 2010

1930’s Riviera Homeless…..Courtesy of Liberty-Target

I don’t think I could have contrived a better description of my Liberty of London inspired rig. That was the response I got when I emailed a picture of my contrivance to ….a girl…for an opinion. Girls. How much of what a guy does is tethered back to girls. Sounds like a topic for someone more grounded and sage in their blogging posits. I nominate Toad. Speaking of nominations-awards-contests etc. … I’ll be posting later this week about a rampant scandal-rip-off going on in the blogosphere. Don’t panic, your hard drive is not in peril but there are a few less than ethical things abounding out there right now.

So my LFG weekend begins with the usual fun and frolic. About an hour of it was spent at this photo caricature website. Go there-you know you want to. We endorse it and will go back again for sure. Here are our before and afters.
And her Liberty of London twenty four dollar Wellies….a home run of immense proportion. Do home runs have proportion?
Tell me that this isn't my child. The randomness of this contrivance seems to be compelling evidence to support that sartorial GTHeckness is inherited. I love you LFG.
To the movies and then Target, Jeeves!
Target. Am I the only one who says that regardless of the reason for walking in-there’s a one hundred dollar cover charge? I could go in there to buy one lightbulb and end up with a cart full of random shitake. It’s an ADD person’s nirvana-nightmare. So after LFG and I see the brilliant Alice in Wonderland in 3-ADG, we walk over to Target for some odds and ends. I have a cupboard full of delicious home made jam that my favorite Aunt makes but LFG prefers good ole Welch’s Grape. We also needed some ghastly non-butter spread, peanut butter and a new measuring cup. I blew my other one up-literally-when using it to boil the remote control. Amazing the germs that accumulate on the TV remote.
Now I’m not trying to get too far above my raising here folks but I’ve spent enough money on clothes since college to retire the national debt. I actually did a little projection a few years ago that looked at how much money I’d have today if I had dollar cost averaged my clothing spend into a couple of fairly aggressive funds…I threw up a little bit in the back of my throat-god forbid the emesis actually landing on the three hundred dollar Flusser shirt I was wearing. After boiling the calculator I swore I’d never do that again.
Howsoever-as my stepfather used to say, I never in my life thought that I’d be purchasing a shirt that in transition from being theirs to mine, would ride a rubber conveyor belt to bar code Ellis Island with peanut butter, jelly and a Pyrex measuring cup. Damn. Shut up. Damn again.
LFG and I looked at the Liberty of London 100% cotton shirts and at $19.95 LFG said “get one daddy”. And so I did.
Twenty minutes later and I’m figuring out the appropriate rig for this shirt-as if appropriate is ever a criteria for my sartorial assemblage. I know I promised to get rid of these linen trousers last summer but I just can’t. I can’t do it and nobody’s gonna make me.
I remember wearing these trou …drinking too much at The Columns one night in New Orleans with a date who later climbed through the little zip down window of my weekend car-a Miata-shut up…and scratched the sh_t out of the rear trunk lid I the process.
I remember also that her level of intake was such that further activities involving zippers and scratching were not in the cards that night. That’s how old these britches are. Stubbs and Rootin' Tootin' Wootton  needlepoint shoddings from at least as many years ago. When you could buy the things for a buck ninety five-before they got so proud of these cheaply produced girlie shoes from Spain and started axking three fifty for them. Please, that's the price of a pair of Belgians. Shut up.
So for $19.95…go get yourself one…if you can pull it off-after you put it on. Stay tuned for Spring Break antics with LFG…including the train to Gotham for almost front row seats to see Phantom of the Opera.

Adios…from my little Riviera. Homelessly ADG.

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