Friday, November 12, 2004
I just purchased my third pair of Ferragamo loafers, and I think my wardrobe is nearly complete! Looking into my closet makes me harder than I get when I smell the deep, earthy ink aroma of a fresh WSJ. My seven Burberry scarfs, folded neatly and stacked one on top of the other create a pillow of heavenly checkeredness, are my personal flair, my “je ne sais quoi,” if I may. I have aggregated one Brooks Brothers shirt in every single color and in all three of their styles. I get a little nervous about wearing anything not from The Brooks, but I also got a couple Thomas Pink shirts. Apparently, it’s very British; and I like to be worldly.
For those kick back in the Hamptons with a vodka-cranberry kinda days, I have a Lacoste polo in every pastel color and, of course, my trusty pair of Nantucket Red khakis. I also made sure to purge any undershirt that didn’t have a little horsie on the lower left because I don’t feel secure if he’s not there protecting me with his mallet, compensating for the lack of love I received as a child because I went to prep school 2000 miles away from my parents.