Wear and Tear

People should take care of their things. It's the only decent thing to do. But there are times when a bit of roughness around the edges is the best medicine:

Recently we had a little discussion going on the merits of the classic canvas tote bag. I love these things. I have a bunch of them , but clearly this one is my favorite, and sees an awful lot of active service. Jammed into this little bag are two rolls of paper, a tube of drawings, a full kit of drafting supplies, two hardbound books, a bottle of wine, a gift for Mrs. G, a Stanley tape measure, a scarf and a pair of gloves...a fairly heavy load for a one handed carry bag.

Note the ragged state of the handles. The older and more beat up this thing gets, the more I love it. Buying things that are "pre-worn" or "distressed" is downright silly, but getting something new and wearing the hell out of it yourself over the course of many years is just the opposite, a mark of character.

Good thing I live in a part of the country where these admittedly purse-like bags are completely acceptable for men.

The Slightly-Less-Than-Rumpled Architect

Warning: This post may contain a fair amount of unrelated content, but since this is supposed to be some kind of clothing blog, here are the customary vanity shots for the day:

Repp tie, tweed, white oxford...a nice classic look.Punched up a bit with penny loafers and bright red socks.

Now for the unrelated bit: I think this is the first outfit that I wore to work in architecture. As of tomorrow, I am part of a four person team of students who will be proposing a few new designs for the expansion and renovation of the school library. It's a federally funded work study job, part time and tax exempt, running for the next ten weeks. Our supervisor is an award winning architect who cut his teeth in I.M. Pei's office working on the Mt. Sinai Medical Center in New York. This was also when they were designing the pyramid addition to the Louvre in Paris and the famous China Bank Tower. You may or may not now about architecture, but believe me that's pretty damn prestigiuos.

We'll be helping the library staff to reach a decision about how best to incorporate most of the floor below the existing library into their program. The final design will then be sent off to an actual firm to be tweaked and eventually built. Not bad for my "get your feet wet" position. Beats hell out of starting in the mail room, anyway.

The whole thing sort of dropped out of the sky at me. Thursday, I chanced upon a meeting with the man in charge of federal work study positions. We talked, he found out that I have a love of hand drafting over computers, and said I'd be perfect for this job, since the architect loves to work in the old fashioned way. Monday, I emailed him my resume. Tuesday night I got an email asking me to come to a meeting today, and tomorrow I'll be crawling around the fifth floor with a tape measure so we can get started on the "as built"drawings. So just like that, after two years of searching and only having one interview, I find myself working on a real project to be constructed within a few years. Best of all, the duration of the job coincides with Mrs. G's maternity leave.

So from now until the end of May, I'll be taking two classes, one of which is a studio, and living with a 2 1/2 year old, a newborn, and my recuperating wife. I saw a cute thing today that said "stress is when you're gut says 'no way' and your mouth says 'sure, no problem'". I think I get that now. Our supervisor laughed when I told him what was on my plate, and said something about how so many good architects have a habit of handling what ought to be too much all at once, so I must be on the right track.

Don't be surprised if the posting here grinds to a crawl in the near future. I'm sure you understand, dear readers.

(p.s. Before I get a ton of comments asking if that's a stain on my lapel, it's not. Just a bad photo.)

Pleasant Surprises

A couple of weeks ago, I found this belt for $1.99. It's cut narrow, just how I like them, and the leather is butter soft. Besides, my old brown belt has been with me for 16 years and was really showing it's age, so this was two bucks well spent:

This evening, as I was putting it away, I caught a glimpse of the nearly worn off label embossed into the back side. Turns out it's a Coach belt, an old one, presumably from the days when that brand meant something more than trashy label encrusted sneakers and cell-phone covers.Sometimes I turn up the good stuff by accident, without even knowing it. (Shameless bragging)

In other news, the new goofy tote bag from L.L.Bean arrived recently. The label bears another pleasant surprise, the magic words: Made in U.S.A.

I knew the boots were still coming from Maine, but I wasn't aware they were actually making the old "Boat and Tote" up there. It may be too bad that American manufacturing of quality goods is so rare that finding it prompts a gleeful sort of surprise, but the bright side is that of all Bean's many products, two of the most iconic one's are still being done right.

Bright Red Plaid

Yours truly, age three:
Just to show you all that I didn't just start dressing well yesterday.

I was reminded of this picture today in an odd way: This morning around 7 a.m., while searching the channels or Curious George for the boy, I came across "Mr. Ed". Remember that show? I used to watch it in reruns all the time as a small kid. I called this coat my "Wilbur Post jacket", because it looked like something Alan Young would have worn on that show. Come to think of it, Wilbur Post was an architect, I'm studying to be an architect....weird.

I think I might have hated that coat at the time, but I'd probably be wearing it this afternoon if it were a 40 regular.

Gourmet Hangers

Some people are willing to spend $24.95 each for wooden hangers to keep their suits on, such as these from the much lauded "Hanger Project". (these tend to be the same people who can justiy spending $60 for a fifth of vodka, preferred booze of drunks the world over).


Further proof that the rich are easily separated from their money by clever folks every day. For it is in the ostentatious display of excess that they can continue to inform us of how rich they are. But, to be fair, the Hanger Project proffers this compelling argument for the exorbitant price of their wares:

"What man of style wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to retire cardboard and plastic hangers with hangers that are not only beautiful but will protect and prolong the life of his wardrobe? Quality hangers, like shoe trees, will protect the life of your suits by providing proper support."

I agree completely! I'd even go so far as to ask "What man of style would even dream of using plastic hangers in the first place?" That's why I buy these jobbies in bulk at (gasp!) IKEA:
Wooden hangers, $3.95/ 8 pack. They are of exactly the same quality as the hangers we sent our clothes out on at Simon's.They may be cheap, but somehow (maybe it's magic) they manage to keep my clothes suspended from the pole in my closet in a very similar manner to the expensive ones. (Snark, snark, snark...)

And all this time, I thought I was being a bit snobby by simply insisting on wooden hangers at all.

In case you're wondering, the Hanger Project also offers a shoe horn for $15, which I'm told performs it's duties in a manner far superior to the metal shoe horn they give you for free at the shoe store.

The Country Gentleman Strikes Again

I've decided to roll with the "country gentleman" vibe for another day:

Polo shirt, Polo bow tie, Brooks Brothers cotton sweater, vintage Rogers Peet sport coat. ~$35 total.

Frayed khakis and vintage English Clark's chukka boots in green suede.

The country gentleman rides into the village on his Raleigh three speed bicycle. After negotiating the sale of some hogs, he enjoys a shepherd's pie and a pint of bitter for luncheon at the local pub before buying some fine silk ribbon at the habberdasher as a gift for the Mrs. and returning home for the evening.

Or...

I wore this into the city on my Raleigh three speed bike to complete some decidely mundane tasks, but I'll be damned if I didn't cut a casual-but-smart figure while doing it.

I like the occasional rich plaid sport shirt worn with a patterned tie. It's not always an easy look to pull off. The trick is balance. In this case, I cooled it down with the sweater, a heavy solid piece. All you see of the plaid shirt is a dash at the collar, and a whiff at the cuffs. Anything more would be too much.

Everywhere I went today, someone chuckled at me. It reminded me of being in high school. Back then, when they would try (unsuccesfully) to hide their derisive laughter, I would say something like "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a man in men's clothing before?"

When did we become a nation of teen-agers? Why is laziness respected and attention to detail reviled? (smallest violin again...I'm getting to be a virtuoso on the instrument).

Gentleman and Squire

What with the recent acquisition of the boiled wool vests, the boy and I decided to strike a decidedly Anglo-philic country pose this afternoon:

Argyle, plaid and corduroy for the Squire,Plaid+plaid+wax cotton+ stripes+ tweed...+flannel+yellow socks+suede shoes for the Gentleman (term used loosely).

If only we had a rifle, a hound of some sort, and 400 acres of woods, I'd dress exactly like this every day. Instead we ran some errands and picked up Mrs. G from her doctors appointment.

Sale Alert!

I suspect some of you may have one of these L.L. Bean $10 gift cards laying around which expires today. Use it! Here's a free shipping code for you.

I looked around the site a bit last night and didn't find anything too exciting, and then I remembered: tote bags. Who can't use another tote bag around the house, especially when we're all trying not to use plastic at the supermarket. I picked up this little number:

When you live in Massachusetts, you can't have enough stuff with lobsters on it.

They've got a lot of good one's right now, including patch madras, green cloth embroidered with dogs, an expensive one made of patch tweed with leather handles, and a new "choose your own colors" tote. There are also some really great coats in the hunting apparel section, but I think I'll wait for those to go on sale in the summer.

Don't waste your gift card.

All You Have To Do Is Ask...

Just this morning, I lamented the loss of an old reversible riding vest with brass buttons. Incredibly, mere hours later, these two lovely items found me at the thrift:

Red boiled wool vest with brass buttons, $3.99

Black Watch tartan boiled wool vest with brass buttons, also $3.99

Both from Pendleton, both made in U.S.A.

Incredible good luck, that. Maybe I should just write a bout more stuff that I lost, or want. Maybe it's magic. Did I ever tell you about the Mercedes diesel station wagon that I lost(just kidding).

I also managed to pick up a few interesting neck ties:

The striped one is from " Reis of New Haven". I failed to find anything about this store on the internet. Any of you Yale boys remember this place? I suspect they were murdered quietly by J.Press.

The madder silk paisley is from "Beau-Ties" of Amherst, New Hampshire. No website to be found, but apparently Beau-Ties is one woman in New Hampshire who makes men's and boy's neckties by hand for mail order. Fantastic! I must contact this woman for a catalogue.The skinny bow tie is vintage 1960's, no visible brand name. $7.97 for the three of them.

But clothes aren't the only things to be found at the thrift. I also got this terrific book:I remember watching "The Victory Garden" on PBS as a small kid. I think I liked it so much because my grandfather took such pride in his fabulous vegetable garden. What's great about this book is that it goes month by month, beginning in March, listing what to plant, what seedlings to grow in the house, when to prune, everything. And it was written around Boston, so it's geared toward what thrives here, where I live. I had a pretty modest garden for the first time last year. I grew some flavorful, juicy tomatoes and some Italian green beans but little else. Hopefully, this book will help me be more ambitious in the coming season. The forecast doesn't seem to have a job in it for me any time soon, so I should have plenty of time to putter around the backyard this Spring.

Not a bad haul for $17.94.

Whatever Happened To...

Ever thought of something you used to have, but forgot about, only to realize that you haven't seen it since God-knows-when and you can't for the life of you remember where or how you lost it? Drives me crazy.
I used to have a boiled wool tattersall vest, like the one in the photo, but with brass buttons. It was reversible, bright red on the inside, also with brass buttons. Clearly this vintage masterpiece must have been part of an equestrian ensemble at some point, but it looked great with flannels, a tweed jacket and a knit tie. Lately, I've been searching for a new one.

How could I lose such a thing? Oh well, to quote Frankie: "Regrets, I've had a few...."

On Bow Ties and Architecture

Architecture schools have an old tradition of holding something called "charettes", or "sketch problems". Today I spent ten hours in schools participating in one.

The idea is simple. Students are given a brief lecture in the morning involving some design problem and by evening are expected to have produced a model and a set of drawings to represent their quick solution to the problem. It's a tradition the has it's roots in the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and it is intended to build the sort of quick thinking and decision making skills so often needed "in the field", as they say.

Today we were given a free standing one room building, 24ft. X 24ft., to be used as an artists studio. We were to figure out a way to light the building naturally, both directly an indirectly, through the use of skylights and the situation of the building on it's site. I passed. My project was on the high side of the middle. There were some that blew me away, and others that were just junk. I'm pleased with the results.

So what does one wear to a "charette"? Khakis, blue oxford, bow tie and penny loafers, of course. ( the camera needs new batteries, so use your imagination). I was advised to dress comfortably, so I wore a sweater instead of a jacket.

Recently I posted about bow ties have been the neck wear of choice for architects in the past, and today I finally realized why: bow ties don't hang down into all the cutting and gluing and drafting, messy work to be sure. A long tie most certainly would not only be destroyed, but more importantly would be forever in the way. This must also explain the former popularity of v-neck sweater among the design set.

Once, a friend's grandfather, who was a butcher, gave me a similar reason for his own penchant for bow ties.

Of course, these days, the preferred neck wear for an architect is:none, the preferred method of shaving is:none, and the preferred thickness of drafting lead is:laptop. (smallest violin...)

And so, in closing, I leave with this photo, of two architects dressed like architects. (Gotta love that checked jacket and those round horn-rims):

Guess Who.

"Putting The Knee In"

Back when I worked at Simon's in high school, PBS was re-running "Are You Being Served". I really thought this show was hilarious, and working in clothing retail made it all the more so.

The other day for some reason I randomly remembered this little bit about "putting the knee in" a suit to jacket to get a better fit. Funny as hell. Skip ahead to 5min30sec. to see what I mean.

The funniest part is, I've actually seen this done in real life. I think this show hit closer to home than many viewers not conversant with clothing retail may have realised. Things like leaving with a pair of pants and returning a few minutes later with the same pair and saying you've found another, or talking a customer out of a checked sports jacket only to find that's all you've got in his size and then talking him back into it. It's all true, don't kid yourselves. At least it was true in a time when stores were staffed by people who attended to their customers (a dying art)."The sleeves will ride up with wear." Pure Comedy Gold!

If you've never heard of this show, I may have just sent you on an hours long Youtube expedition. You can thank me later.

Those of you who may have had similar experiences in clothing retail, I invite your stories.

Polite Society

Tonight, we infiltrated Polite Society. We played some Les Paul style versions of Beatles and Bob Dylan. Two guitars and drums, on the mezzanine of an archaic members only library across the street from the Massachusetts State house. They actually serve punch in plastic cups out of a bowl that belonged to Thomas Jefferson in this place. Debauchery!

A tiny drum kit, like so.(Note the floor tom used as bass drum)And some old guitars played through amps full of tubes, like so.( Note the Klein Tools bag used for cables and the like. Heavy Duty Ivy all the way.)In a room full of very large oil paintings like this.Wearing penny loafers and argyle socks like so.
Sitting in front of books like this. (The Savage Gentleman?!?! This book was actually on the shelf right by where we set up, among books about Burma and Siam, in the days of British imperialism.)

We played to a room full of button down collars, bow ties and tweed. I think they enjoyed us.

I'm working on a membership bid. Wish me luck.

Pattern Mixing

As I was dressing for school this evening I decided to wear my new double-breasted gray flannel chalk stripe suit. It looked great, but as I sat in the car, I felt a rip, followed by a cold breeze, in my posterior. The pants had torn clean open. Further inspection revealed that the previous owner had paid for some pretty shoddy tailoring. It had nothing to do with eating cookies at 1:00 a.m. in front of the computer.

Anyway, I ran back in the house to change. Now I was in a hurry. In a pinch this is what I came up with.

I love these Black Watch slacks, but I'll be damned if they';re not a tough match. Tonight, I tried them with a burgundy foulard bow tie, navy blazer, white oxford, brown suede shoes and grey tweed cap.Sometimes I'm a fan of the look of things that maybe don't match, except maybe they do. In such a hurry as I was, any sensible person might have reached for grey flannels, navy blazer and striped tie, a no fail combination. But for some reason, this outfit threw itself at me. I felt comfortable in it, and I'm about 85% sure I pulled it off.

Every time I wear these pants I get a lesson in what the phrase "Go To Hell Pants" means. I catch everybody staring at them, but no one dares say a word...because they all know they can go to hell.

Francesco

My father's father, Francesco, was a tailor. A real one, the kind who could conjure suits out of raw fabric.

He worked in a clothing factory in Boston's "Garment District", back when there was such a place. He worked at a sewing machine making sleeves for police dress uniforms. (or maybe they were just the regular uniforms. This was in the 50's and 60's, when police wore coats.) He was extremely proud of this, since the sleeves were very hard to make.

He used one of the old fashioned sewing machines, the kind with the iron foot pedal and knee operated brake. Once he broke his leg, and had to teach himself to work the machine with his other leg. His productivity never dropped. He was pretty proud of that, too.

He got my dad's aunt Mary a job in the factory as a "finisher". They would heap completed garments on a table and she would go through them looking for loose threads. Good thing, since Aunt Mary couldn't sew a button on a shirt to save her life.

When my dad needed a suit or a jacket, Nonno Frank (as we all knew him) would take my dad to the factory to pick out the fabric and the lining, then take him out to lunch downtown. A week later my dad, then in high school, would own another piece of custom made menswear to add to his collection.

Once my dad wanted a sports coat with no lapels, like the Beatles wore in 1965. My grandfather refused to make it for him, because he felt such a coat was only for savages.

Every weekend he would visit our house and bring a box of Cannoli.

Nonno Frank drank Seagram's 7. Nonno Peppino, my mother's father, drank Seagram's V.O. They were always arguing about which was better.

He made the white suit I wore to my First Communion. He altered it for me, but my two older cousins had gone through it first. Alas, it was the only chance I got to wear a piece of his work. He died when I was 8 years old.

Nonno Frank was always sharp as a tack. What a cool dude.

(stories via my Dad over coffee this evening)

The Basics

While it's true I often promote a relatively small wardrobe stocked with only choice pieces, a well dressed man can't have enough white and blue dress shirts.

$6.98 for the two of them.

The Tiny Architect

Problem: This morning I had some architecture homework to finish, which was due tonight. But I couldn't just go down to the basement and finish the work at my drafting table, because I was watching the boy.

Solution: set up shop on the dining room table and let the boy join in! I taped down some paper for him, and gave him his very own ruler and 30/60/90 triangle. Of course.

Remarkably, I drew a complex and precise axonometric rendition of the Vanna Venturi house in this way. Best of all, not only did the boy not mark up my work, but he produced a great piece of toddler art while sitting in the chair beside me.
I wish I could always work this way. (By the way, I slayed them with that drawing in studio tonight. )


In other news: One of my best friend's mother passed away this morning, after a long fight with cancer. Please keep Elio and his Dad in your thoughts for me.


I'll be back to my usual needless pontificating on the subject of menswear soon...promise.

The Jams

I used to be a drummer. Actually, I guess I still am, but I just don't get the chance to do it much anymore, what with children and school and all. Tonight I'm getting together with old friend (and sometimes commenter) Pasquale to lay down some jazz....on this beautiful old thing:

1964 Slingerland, blue sparkle finish, with matching 1958 snare drum

This drum set is possibly the greatest thing I own. As you may well have already guessed, it too was acquired at a criminally low price by an unusual set of circumstances. Clothing is far from the only thing to be found on the cheap for the tenacious and creative shopper.

I started playing the drums when I was in the sixth grade, about 11 or 12 years old. After about a year of taking lessons with only a snare drum to prove I was serious, my parents bought me a second hand drum set. It was a basic level Gretsch from the 1980's that they found for $200. Nothing to write home about, but certainly a decent set of drums. I immediately stopped practicing my lessons and began to teach myself every song on my Dad's Beatles albums by ear.

Fast forward 15 years. I'm playing in a gigging band, the fourth or fifth serious one I've been in, on the same drum set. By now I'm pretty damn good and deserving of a better instrument on which to practice my craft. Ebay and the like are loaded with vintage drum sets, with vintage price tags of a couple grand or more. I call it "drum porn"; I know I can't afford them, but I keep tracking these things down just the same. Then one day I come across a cryptic ad on good old craigslist, which says something like "old Slingerland drums $325". I sent an email, expecting for that price some junk form the 90's. What I get is an email from an angst-ridden teenage goth girl in the suburbs, saying "they're kinda old and crappy, you probably don't want them" with a number if pictures of the above beauty attached. I nearly passed out.

Four days later, I'm at her house in a certain exclusive suburb of Boston, with Pasquale and a pick up truck, $350 in hand. The young girl says she promised to hold them for some lady from Rhode Island who's coming in two days, so I offered her the $350, $25 above the asking price, and practically ran out the door with the drums. Her Mom seemed awfully glad to have those damn things out of the house. Her Dad, I suspect, was getting toasted on single malt Scotch while reading the paper in the study.

It's exactly the same drum set Buddy Rich used to play:

The last time I played was at Pasquale's wedding at the end of August (where, incidentally, we played "I Should Have Known Better", one of the very Beatles songs I taught myself all those years ago.) It'll be good to see my old girl again tonight. Next Tuesday, I'll be sitting in with Pasquale and an as yet undetermined horn player for a cocktail gig at the Boston Athenaeum...we'll see how that goes.

The Professional

Despite messy, wet, wind driven fat flakes of snow, today I donned the full business professional get-up and trudged on down to Joe Banks for a job interview:

I dare you not to take me seriously in an outfit like this.

So Mrs. G took part of a day off to come home and watch the boy, and through no small effort I made my way down to the "Financial District" as its know. As I got out of the subway, I checked the time. 10 minutes early, perfect. So, brimming with rare confidence I strode through the door and annouced my arrival. "I have an appointment with (x) at 3:30"

The woman behind the couter looked up and said "Oh yes. (x) is not here. He told me to call and let you know, but I lost your phone number. Sorry."

Well, at least she apologized. That's something these days, I guess.

Since I was already downtown in my business best, I decided to pop in to Brooks Brothers across the street and pick up an application. The fellas there were more than happy to chat, but had nothing but grim news about the currect state of business.

Then I went up the street to the Allen Edmonds store and picked up an application. The fella there was more than happy to chat, but had nothing but grim news about the state of business.

On the way to Downtown Crossing, I passed Thomas Pink. They actually had a help wanted sign in the window (who does that anymore?) So I got an application there.

On the way home I stopped by the Andover Shop, where I had an enjoyable conversation with the old guys about the old days, and our mutual dismay over the current state of acceptable dress. Then they gave me some grim news about the state of business.

Next I went to J.Press. The fella there remembered me. He said he kept my resume and really wanted to hire me, but because of grim news about the state of business, there was just no need of an enthusiastic young fella such as yours truly.

The outlook in the architecture world lately says it will be at least a year or two before most firms will be able to expand again, because of grim news about the state of construction.

Sheesh, a guy just can't catch a break in this town! Maybe I should just drink whiskey under a bridge somewhere and write blues music.

Bits and Pieces

In assembling the Affordable Wardrobe, one sometimes finds it necessary to make a trip to (gasp!) Target, or even the dreaded mall. Such was the case today. I had to pick up a few bits and pieces to finish off my professional look for the job interview this afternoon.

White handkerchiefs from Target, $4.99/ six pack

Black leather gloves from Kohl's, $12.50 on sale.

One thing I couldn't find anywhere were rubber overshoes. I went to seven stores with no luck at all. As luck would have it, it's raw, windy and snowing today...perfect weather for wearing ones finest clothes. I guess I'll just have to wear my dress shoes and step carefully, because I'm certainly not wearing Bean boots with a blue suit and a Chesterfield coat. Last chance is the shoe repair place, which is kind of on the way to the subway, or else I'll stuff some paper towels in my pocket and do my best to wipe up before I walk inside.

The Rumpled Architect

The weather here in Boston was unseasonably warm. Perfect weather for a Macintosh style Burberry raincoat and some tweed:

I call this look the "Rumpled Architect". Note the big tote bag and tube of rolled drawings. The only thing missing is a tweed bucket hat.

(This look is known alternatively as the "Rumpled Professor" , the "Slightly Disheveled Writer" or the "Newspaper Man on Assignment".)

In such an outfit, I could easily convince any client to allow me twice as much money as their budget allows to carry out my designs of vain hubris...or maybe all the pictures of John Updike (r.i.p.) that have been floating around the internet are just rubbing off on me.

p.s. today at school someone asked me "What are you all dressed up or? Work? Job Interview?" I said " I'm not 'all dressed up.' If I was, I'd be wearing a suit.

Young Men in the Old Days

Today the Affordable Wardrobe was joined by this sporty little number:

Vintage 1960's 3/2 sack sports jacket, with 2 button cuffs and those old fashioned shallow side vents. $7.99Made of this gorgeous and unbelievably soft piece of fabric. Too soft to be just wool, maybe part Alpaca? Who knows? Who cares? This label is priceless. I guess I'll have to pass this one on when I get too old for it. Can you even imagine a time when this would be considered clothes for a young man? Seems like it was a million years ago.

I sort of remember Cricketeer being something you could get at Filene's men's department. Apparently it's a brand that was produced by Joseph & Feiss, who now manufactures things for Hugo Boss. Sometimes at Simon's we would get a chance to buy some stuff from them and have our labels put in. That was always a big deal, a special occasion.

Picture this one with dark grey flannels, a blue button down shirt and a navy wool knit tie...or better still a black merino wool turtle-neck...gotta get me a turtle-neck.

In other news, I've got an interview tomorrow at Jos. A. Bank on State Street for a part time job selling menswear. Do you think I can sell menswear? Looks like the navy suit and white shirt will be going out for another spin this week. Just for luck, I bought this tie:

I used to be sent out to spy on these guys back in the days at Simon's. The funny thing is, the State Street location actually occupies the very space that was once Simon's State Street.

Not exactly the kind of work I was looking for, but anything beats being on the dole. Maybe I could even get some clothes out of it, but my thrifting gene will probably never let me pay the exorbitant sum of $249 for a suit. At the very least, it's good interview practice, and of all the innumerable resumes I've sent out, these guys were the only people to even call me back. Wish me luck.