The 2011 L.L. Bean Go-to-Hell Boat and Tote

I’ve usually engaged my GTH trouser cache full-force by this time of year. But since that darned Dermatologist waived me off of my usual sun consumption, my enthusiasm for GTH pants has been dimmed. More on this issue in another post.

But that didn’t stop LFG from going over to the L.L. Bean website and creating our first ever GTH Boat and Tote. “I can pick all the colors, right?” To which I of course replied yes.

So here we are. Our inaugural fuzzy diced GTH Tote. I’m thinking we’ll kick off each new summer with one.

Besides, who in God’s name would ever steal this from us? A voice of reason posited that it should at least have a navy blue enclosure. Kinda like putting a Blazer on a turd.

Onward. Fuzzy is as fuzzy-does. And committed to the ongoing practice of beginning sentences with And or But. Butcept when I choose not to.

ADG, II

“…he favors pants that can stun small animals at 50 paces…”

Trad Week Wrap Up

I’m blessed to be busy and haven’t had much time to read blogs, write posts or post comments. And wouldn’t you know it; I missed a bit of fun over at G-Man’s blog…An Affordable Wardrobe. Seems that a couple of his devotees really threw the lumber to me the other day. I’m honored to incite such reaction to my garish-fuzzy diced oeuvre. Young Fogey…animal stunning at 50 paces indeed…Indeed. I’m honored by the characterization. 

And regarding the three pounds of brass on the Wiley Brothers belt…you are off by a pound. It requires four ...just the right ballast to counterweight...my stones. Khaki Bill…I essentially have two modes…work/client interaction where my dress is appropriate or I’d starve and Trad Homeless…where quite frankly, as you’ve discovered, I could give a damn.

Young Fogey said...

All you need is Belgian loafers and a bunch of silly stuff wrapped around your wrists and you'd look just like ADG, though perhaps your pants are a bit too subdued for him. (He'd probably wear a belt with about 3 pounds of brass on it, too, but we'll ignore that for now.

y'see, uh... well, he favors pants that can stun small animals at 50 paces. He likes clothes that would make Liberace say, "now that's over the top!"

Khaki Bill said...

I'm with the Fogey on this one (I really liked the Liberace line!). Other than style, the only difference I can see between ADG and that tool over at WASP 101 is that at least ADG knows his clothes are garish.

I just don't get how someone who cares as much about clothes as ADG, who spends as much money on clothes as ADG, can still manage to look so bad.

Having said that, I'll say he can look really good when he wants to, but it seems he almost never wants to. The main reasons for going to his blog are either to get tips on how NOT to dress, or for the rubberneck gawking fun of it all…

My wrap up actually encompasses last weekend…my LFG weekend. Soccer is behind us and the lessons learned were huge. Two of the most talented gals from last year went on to play at a higher level and the notion that we would show up and win all but one game, like last year, was disabused early. One Win-Five Ties…a shall we say… “developmental year”. LFG was so tired last Saturday morning. She could barely muster enough energy to dress and buckle in for the journey.

I forced her to give me a smile…she’s my child and I think she looks beautiful in any circumstance. Shut up.

Nothing like another tie game and a trophy to muster LFG’s facetious elements. It was, as Neil Simon so aptly characterized, “Africa hot” last weekend.

I was subordinated to logistics and finance on Sunday afternoon. Chauffeuring LFG and two of her bffs to Eastern Market and Old Town. Great friends...great fun...I enjoyed my role.

I budgeted three dollars each for LFG and her friends at Eastern Market. And wouldn’t you know it—they decided to adorn their wrists with a bunch of tacky garbage. I was allowed to opt out of this hat trick.

My wage earning efforts landed me back in Philly this past week with no breakthrough discoveries, surprises or sartorial assertions worthy of note. I'll be in Miami Beach on business most of next week and am certain to unearth some blog worthy observations from Bling Central. I'm under no assumptions that Miami International Airport will be anywhere nearly as elegant as Philadelphia's train station.

High water seersucker trousers and monk straps shrouding bare ankles...for the ride up to Philly. Homage to Thom Browne...not. I'm more of an Ed Grimley devotee my damn self. 

 The Hulme bag is fast becoming my go to satchel for travel. It's an ADD guy's dream. Just throw and go...

Perilously overdressed for my meeting. Unfortunately I'm not kidding.

Interestingly...I did find nourishment while in Philadelphia. Martinis are kinda like New York Strips. When travelling and you desire either...the variance in the deliverable can be huge. However, both are safe bets because even when placed before you, contrived in a manner contrary to your request, palatability remains virtually assured.

Hitchen's bio arrived moments before I decamped for Philly and I left it at home...pert near kilt me to do so but I had too much work stuff to read. I'm on it now though. 

Ok, y'all have a safe and blessed weekend. Onward...with four pounds of ballast.

A D G

Trad Week In Review

My LFG weekend (code nowadays for driving LFG to various parties and activities) is about to begin and I couldn't be happier. Certainly, I'll have other things to post after the weekend but I wanted to close out this week with a dose or randomanalia. My collection of raw material is strong but none of it represents for me, enough fodder for a stand alone post. Therefore, strap in and get ready for the randomnest of randomness.

First let's take up the issue of J.W. Hulme and Company. I had a long talk this morning with one of my best buddies. We covered, and to our satisfaction, solved most of the pressing problems of the world sans how to plug the offshore oil leak. We talked at length about buying American made goods and how it's almost impossible to find anything purely American made. Orvis Battenkill luggage is my go-to carriage for personal and business travel. One of my commenters made me aware that Hulme no longer makes for Orvis so my latest admonishment is....Orvis NO....Hulme YES. 

The Hulme zippered tote is a great way to demonstrate your patriotism and commitment to fueling the economy. AllieVonGDP and I can't do it alone. Jump on in...the water's fine.

Look what rolled in over here ...destination Old Town.

I carry a ton of materials to meetings and this baby will be just the thing to accommodate my props. And I've got an ass load of props.

Tons of space for gadgets.

The portfolio is Hulme-Orvis from fifteen years ago. The good news is that the canvas fades fast and the leather develops a quick patina. Quick Patina...sounds like something from the KamaSutra. I dated a gal named Patina years ago.

So the new tote sits in the sun today...fading. Gotta get some of the new off of it before I show up on the train or at DCA with it.

Anyone else get the Powell catalog? Not sure how I ended up on their mailing list. I've never bought anything from them. Seems like a nice enough bunch of people and the goods are really high quality. Still, I don't see every buying any of their stuff. And please, if I ever pay a buck ninety five for a baseball cap...just slap me. 

Remember the Gremlin? An AMC car right? Wrong in every way. Detroit made laughable attempts to thwart the breathtaking flanking moves by Japan. Remember...Toad drove a Vega at one time. Butcept it was a Cosworth. Shut up. We also had the Pinto and the Duster as defensive ordnance. I almost fell out of my car when I saw this baby the other day. A Gremlin with an antique car designation plate. Oy.

Ok...I've lifted the patch madras ban.

GTH socks keep multiplying at CasaMinimus...I swear I didn't buy these. But I will be wearing the hot pink paisleys this weekend. Shut the.......

The Georgetown Flea Market provided great fodder for my upcoming Geezer Chic post.

So lets talk fried chicken. I love it and only eat it when I'm in South Carolina. So I figure two or three doses of this clucking fried infarction won't kill me. Remember, I can rationalize anything. LFG and I always stop at Bojangles when we are south of Richmond en route to MamaMinimus in S.C.

Good thing that don't have Bojangles north of Richmond right? Wrong. I've been living here forever and had no clue that my lipid levels were in peril courtesy of 'jangles. Someone mentioned to me last week that there was a Bojangles in Prince Georges County and I said no. Then they said yes. Then I said no again. Then I went online.

 6.9 miles....we've got trouble...just over the Potomac. So close but so far...given that the 'hood is kinda dodgy...I'd never have risked going over there. Especially in a Swedish Muscle car. A Saab convertible in P.G. county just screams...."whip my ass-whip my ass-whip my ass". Drive over in a pair of Belgians to boot and there's no telling.

So I get in the car at once because I'll risk my life for fried chicken.

"For here or to go?" Are you kidding me? I don't mind risking life and limb but additional peril, courtesy of the Bojangles dining room is beyond my scope.

Safe and sound back on the veranda...fried nirvana...with a cloth napkin. Kinda like putting lipstick on a pig...or a chicken.

The outcry of ridicule and concern about my other white trash caloric indulgence...The Hungry Man dinner motivates me...especially after the Bojangles confession, to let all of you know that I can and do cook better things. 

Remember my Brussels Sprouts appetizer on Boston? 

Well I replicated it to about the eightieth percentile the other evening. One more go and I'll have it mastered. Shut up.

Now this isn't quite as healthy but I made it...from scratch...butcept the ribs from Christmas. I thawed those babies out as well as reheated some gumbo that I made the other week. If you tasted this corn-you'd want me. Ladies only...ok.

Flat fronts. Kinda defeats the purpose of wearing this latest trend if you've got a big ass belly cascading over a Ralph creation such as these. Even with my level of white trash cooking intake, I avoid the beer belly calamity. Shhhhh.

Jealousy doesn't become you so either head over to Ralph and have some made...after you run five miles and do a few sit ups...or zip it.

You can buy that eleven dollars a pound stuff if you want to. When you come to my house, you'll be drinking this.

Today is Ride Your Bike to Work day in D.C. I drove the thousand yards to my office...in honor of the event. Fossil fuel and fried chicken...and I'm not even a Republican. Both parties repulse me. 

White pants, old RM Williams kangaroo belt and the Paul Stuart table cloth from the other night. Yes, we recycle dress shirts if they aren't dirty. At 17.50 per shirt, we try to wear them twice before having them laundered again.

And monk strap suede shoes? I don't know. I just had a monk strap craving flung my way this morning. Shut up.

I test drove the other pair of O'Connell's bleeders the other day. This is for the ladies. With a backward monogram.

Max Beerbohm, Lord Hawke and Fred Archer await the hanging committee. Hurry.

How do you assure that you'll like your Father's Day gift? You make certain that LFG requests the SKU number and other requisite information for said gift when you are assisting LFG in the procurement of said Mother's Day gift. Bam!

Obsequious customer service folks whose second language is English crack me up. I couldn't resist taking a snap or two of my interactions with a Comcast customer service person...probably assisting me from Bangladesh. 

Here I am having trouble with the service quality and while I'm waiting for Krizza to find a solution, she tries to sell me some more stuff. Stunning.

After my issue was resolved I tried to make a little small talk. Krizza likes Viking movies too.

Just to let everyone know...LFG and I are going steady. She's wearing my ring now.

And finally...Have a Good Day!

Randomly...ADG