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I’m going with Patrick to this wedding today, some people he works with or one of his bosses or something. He’d sort of been on my ass for the last couple of weeks to make sure that my suits still fit, to which I procrastinated a lot about. I basically decide to not bother with the suits and just wear a shirt, tie, dress pants, etc, which I figured wouldn’t be much trouble.

Just for the hell of it I decided to try on the suits anyway. Both jackets are large enough to hold two of me, and the pants are large enough to hold one and a half of me. It’s almost one of those weight-loss commercials come true, lol. It’s astounding to realize that I actually fit into them at one point in time approximately two years ago.

When I’d asked my brother Matt to return the suits I sort of assumed that my ties would be in the garment bag too, I was wrong. I figure, oh well… I can stop on the way and get a tie, no biggie. I at least had a pair of very nice black pants and a similarly nice shirt.

So, on my way up to Harrisburg I stop in Carlisle and find myself a nice Kenneth Cole tie among other things that were more toward the line of impulse buying, but none the less problem solved without wasting too much time along the way.

Wrong.

I very carefully lit a cigarette once I returned to the car from the store, very carefully being because cloves have a tendency to spark/explode, etc, when being lit… hell, they do it the entire time, but lighting is the worst. I start to drive out of the shopping centre and feel this intense and horrible burning on my chest, I look down and see that I’ve burnt a hole through my shirt. I also figure that it went right through the undershirt as well considering the level of pain.

So, stop, turn around, back to the store. With some irony I did look at shirts while I was there originally, but didn’t really see anything spectacular. I then go to the store nextdoor to look. Hmm, plenty of nice shirts, plenty of them not my size either! You see, I have a very big neck as far as dress shirts go, it’s somewhere between 17.5 and 18. A size 18 shirt is VERY, VERY, BIG. My body is much more like a size 16, of course I’d choke to death if I tried to wear one that small. It’s such a pain in the ass having a non-conventional body! I’ve already convinced myself that my next suit will be hand-tailored, I just do not fit into stock at all correctly.

They didn’t have any 17.5 shirts, a few 17’s and a few 18’s… I opted for the 18 and granted it is a very nice shirt, Kenneth Cole’s “Reaction” line, but as I figured it is VERY, VERY, BIG. I just didn’t want the 17 to end up choking me, lol. I guess I’m going to need to go in for hand-tailored dress shirts also.

At this point though I’m totally stressing… I really didn’t need to be, I had plenty of time to get to Harrisburg, but, bugger, I just spent $60 I didn’t really need to spend and ruined a very nice shirt.

I call Patrick and wake him up, lol, I expected him to be awake though, which was the funny thing about the fact I woke him up. I tell him that it’s after five in central Europe and ask him to please have a very strong alcoholic beverage waiting for me when I get there, which would be in about eight minutes. Sure enough a vodka tonic was waiting for me on the porch, I start to guzzle that…err, sip that, and explain to him my little bits of fashion disasters and emergencies that had befallen me all morning.

He then says to me that he’d checked with the people getting married and they said that it was going to be a ‘business casual’ kind of event. AHHHH!!!! I’m the king of business casual, lol, practically everything I own fits into that category with the exception of, err, two pairs of jeans(since I only have two pairs of jeans that actually fit these days, lol)! All of this ‘dressy’ business being totally unnecessary was the little drop of extra icing on my fashion hell for the day, lol.

Oh well, I’m still dashing, perhaps more so than I originally intended. If only I’d worn my Kenneth Cole pants I’d be practically drenched in his stuff, but no… I wore DKNY pants instead, haha. …and yeah, when it comes to wearing something less than casual I do tend to be quite the label whore it seems.