Ahem

Ahem - The Fraters' Saint Paul commented on last week's secret meeting between he, King from SCSU Scholars, and me:

"It was a fine time and both gentlemen proved to be entertaining and provocative conversationalists. I left the 90 minute meeting with even more respect for the amalgamation of intellect brought together under the Northern Alliance banner.

So far, so good. I agree.

But then he swerves into the weeds:

I also had the honor of participating in a kind of sartorial devolutionary line up. As we stood up and walked to the exit, I noticed King was wearing a bespoken suit, I was wearing Stillwater casual office slob chic attire, and Mitch was wearing sweat pants.

Saint's powers of observation are as dissipate has his sartorial sense is natty. I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt - which, if "clothes make the man", is probably approriate. I haven't worn sweatpants outside of a weight room or my own yard since college.

The Saint continues:

I also noticed that height positively correlated with dressing down. Not sure what that says about Darwin or the ascent of man, but as I walked into the cold January St. Paul night, I had renewed faith for the theory of creationism."

When I'm on my own time, the post-Sinatra, GQ ideal of the perpetually-Docker-clad male bounces off me like Hesiod's spittle. I dress for the occasion; at work, I'm businesslike; On a date, I try to impress. Out for a drink at a neighborhood bar with a bunch of bloggers? I try not to smell like cat litter.

That is all.

Posted by Mitch at February 5, 2004 05:01 AM