I wanted this suit for years. Every summer edition of the J. Peterman catalog, there it was. Pale tan seersucker. Much more subtle than the blue seersucker suits of my past. I could not imagine any summer suit more elegant. But, rather expensive. So every year I would plan my courtship. Wait until the end of summer sale with its huge reductions. Every year, it sold out before I could make it mine.
Until this year. I took possession of my dream summer suit two days ago. The fabric is marvelous. The tailoring impeccable. The jacket fit me like bespoke. But. When I put on the trousers, there was....well.....just too many stripes. All over me. I gaped at myself in the mirror. How could this happen? This was my ultimate summer suit!
Then an awful epiphany. There apparently comes a time where one is neither young nor old enough to wear seersucker. The brashness of youth is past. The solid confidence of golden years yet to come. With a sigh I took off my long-pursued summer tans. Placed them reverently back in the container. And shipped them right back to Kentucky.
Sometimes, the chase is the thing. Not the capture. At least I have a very dapper black linen suit which remains to carry the Epic sartorial flag until Labor Day.
Remembering ... Daphne du Maurier
9 hours ago