The Virtues of Perseverance

Back in the 90s, my Dad had a subscription to GQ. This was in the end days of GQ being a publication for professional men interested in adult topics, rather than a pop rag full of twenty somethings in clothes that don't fit. I read it back then, and even though I may hate to admit being influenced by a magazine, I was. All those now famous Polo ads from the heyday were there, and the clothing photo spreads featured some pretty great stuff. Sure, the models were young, athletic, and handsome, but the clothes fit properly and it was obvious that the demographic was grown ups.

I'd see an outfit like the one pictured above. The model would probably be photographed descending a flight on stone steps on the front of an old official looking building, briefcase in one hand while checking his watch or hailing a cab. Or maybe he'd be in the park buying a hot dog from a street vendor while an attractive young lady in a business suit admired him from behind a newspaper. The caption would read something like this:

Dashing and simple, you can't go wrong with a good grey suit and blue striped shirt. Suit by Polo Ralph Lauren, $1295; shirt by Brooks Brothers, $149; tie by Robert Talbott, $125; belt by Coach; shoes by W.S.Foster and Sons.

I lusted after those things then, and I did my best in my teenage way to fake it with bargains and thrift shop purchases. In retrospect I missed the mark by a mile, but I was a kid and still just learning. I stuck with it, kept what was good and discarded the rest, in terms of both clothing and knowledge.  All these years later, I finally have the Polo suit, the Brooks Brothers shirt, and the Robert Talbott tie, albeit for a lot less money. I sometimes buy hot dogs from a street vendor, though I'm not sure how many attractive young ladies in business suits are admiring from behind a newspaper.

Perseverance is a virtue.

Late to the Party, part 2 (or, history)

So, I've always said that it is important to ignore "seasonal" shopping if you're going to thrift shop successfully. But I'll be damned if I haven't been turning up a somewhat inordinate number of hot Summer goods, in this the week after the end of Summer clothes. First, the white bucks, now these. A pair of seersucker trousers, and a knockout pair in navy and white gingham. Just in time to go into storage.

The seersucker pair has no tags, and was likely half of a suit once. The gingham pair wins extra points for being a relic of bygone, pre-brand name history. Often, with old stuff, the provenance leads one to discover an extra degree of un-quantifiable value in the thing itself.

So, internet homework reveals Jack Krawcheck to have been a fixture in Charleston. Besides apparently having founded and owned a great store, he was also quite a guy. This is the kind of thing that meant quality in the days before brand allegiance. I won't get all sappy, or cantankerous, and pine for a bygone era that simply ain't comin' back, but I will reiterate that people who don't value old things, let alone buy and reuse them, tend to miss a certain kind of vital importance to be found in them.

p.s. thanks for the link, British GQ.