For Everything There Is A Season
I HAVE OFFICIALY RETIRED MY SWEATSHIRTS UNTIL FALL. My colorful array of Pseudo-Hawaiian shirts is taking the field. I call my shirts “Pseudo-Hawaiian” because they’ve never been any closer to Hawaii than the package of Hawaiian Dinner Rolls that shared the shopping cart at Wal-Mart.
The High Fashion houses in New York, Paris, and Milan have their wardrobe creations for each season – and so do I. In chilly weather it’s Sweatshirts. In cold weather it doesn’t matter because I’m not going out, so I can wear anything. But in Warm/Hot weather it is time to break out the brightly colored synthetic fibers of my “Hawaiian Shirts.”
I’ve never been to Hawaii. I lived in California for 25 years, but I never made that last jump to get over to the Islands. Silly me. It would have been considerably cheaper than if I decided to take such a trip now that I am ensconced in the bosom of the Midwest.
I know some people who are living in Hawaii and love it. Of course, I’ve known some other people who lived there and hated it. Luckily this has nothing to do with my choice of shirts.
Believe it or not, there is some thought that goes into selecting one shirt over another. It is not just a random act of couture.
There are some Hawaiian shirts out there that could almost be looked upon as works of Art. I avoid those. They tend to be expensive and I don’t want to spend any more than needed. My solution? I shop almost exclusively at Wal-Mart for my shirts. I admit that I do have one shirt that I got at a supermarket in Texas. Aloha – oy vey.
I shop at Wal-Mart for two reasons – the shirts are cheap – $10 max – and they are made from some sort of synthetic fiber that cleans quick and easy. Their shirts also have designs that range from “Butt-Ugly” to Holy Cow, did they mean it to look like that?”
No one steals an ugly shirt. I can take them to the laudromat and then go for coffee secure in the knowledge that they’ll still be there when I return.
Another thing – the expensive, almost Art, shirts usually need ironing. That’s just wrong in my mind. My Wal-Mart Wonders resist ironing, and with designs and patterns that resemble the aftermath of an explosion at the Stained Glass Window factory, any wrinkles are beautifully camouflaged. The designs are so frenetic that I think you could hide a seven course Italian dinner on them.
Price, Convenience, and Misdirection – three important factors in my wardrobe purchases.
So, if you are ever in my neighborhood, courageous person you must be, and you see a devilishly handsome fellow sitting in the corner typing madly, I urge you to look in a different corner to find me. I’ll be the guy in the Hawaiian shirt, slumped over his coffee. My shirt may look wrinkled, but I assure you that the shirt is smooth – it’s me that has all the wrinkles.