Fashion Statement

by
Mark Balson

I read an Esquire Magazine today while waiting for my wife Jan to have her cataract surgery. Since I haven’t read an Esquire in so many years … probably 40 … it was like something foreign. I am not their demographic and no amount of striving, money, working out, etiquette lessons and scheduling appointments for a manicure can make me one. I learned that I do not understand how to make your slacks pop by selecting the correct complimentary shoes. Apparently, a man needs a minimum of eight pairs of shoes. Some of the things I wear on my feet would not coincide with their definition of “shoe”; no, most of my footwear would be called “orthopedic appliances”.
    
I had no idea that there were so many critical characteristics that need to be evaluated when buying a belt. All belts should fasten on the second hole. So, why are those other holes there? Making new holes with an awl was not discussed … but I bet they don’t like the very thought of it. 
    
The new “hip” (or is it “hep”?) …thing in socks is light pastel, solid colors. I don’t know where my socks with a dinosaur adorning each … or my Ruth Bader Ginsberg socks … would fit into their fashion hierarchy. 
     
I have concluded that if I were dropped into a roomful of “the in crowd” I would not blend smoothly in. I am pretty sure the “in crowd” police would immediately cordon me off and erect screens. In doing so, the fashion elite would then not have to gaze upon what they would consider an escapee from the dankest … darkest … dreariest Walmart in existence. 

No more Esquires for me.