My husband is a professor of English and spends very little time thinking about what he is going to wear. Twelve years ago we bought a Hickey Freeman jacket for him, it was specifically for our engagement party. He has worn that thing to every fancy event we have gone to in our entire 12 year marriage. He has also worn, without shame, the same jacket in every Christmas card we have ever sent as a couple. The good news is it still fits him. He has been known to mix it up a bit pulling out his navy sport coat from college. That still fits him too.
I hadn’t really paid much attention to his paltry wardrobe until I stopped buying clothes for myself. Just last week we were invited to a fancy Newport Beach charity event. In my not so distant past life, I would have racked my brain, called my sister and flipped through magazines in an attempt to put together my own fabulous event wardrobe. After serious contemplation and long distance discussions I would have run over to South Coast Plaza, (2 miles from my house) for a spontaneous jolt of fashion. But this time I stopped, took a deep breath and pondered my existing apparel options.
With all the free time I saved ruminating, talking and running to and from SCP I had the brain space to think about my husband’s tiring wardrobe. What followed was a trip, with my husband in tow, to South Coast Plaza. We bought a great Italian hound’s-tooth cashmere jacket and some pants (no pennies were spared). Oh, and of course the overpriced Italian Ferragamo belt was a must-have (as far as my husband is concerned Ferragamo may as well be a brand of pasta). I had such fun lecturing him on the good-quality, clothing investment strategy, “you’ll wear it for a lifetime,” I told him (it’s the age old lecture I give myself when faced with an expensive clothing purchase). I didn’t’ have the heart to tell him that in my fashion world a lifetime is six to eighteen months max.
Well, I definitely got my shopping hit in for the week. But, while the anticipation, the selling, the strategizing, fabric fondling and flirting with the Nordstrom sales guy was exhilarating, it wasn’t the same as buying something for myself. It did feel good, however, to think about someone else’s wardrobe rather than my own for once. Good to know that I can be in Nordstrom for more than an hour without breaking into a sweat. I guess TGAAD is going to be a good thing for my husband!
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