Yesterday I was deciding what to wear to work. After careful consideration, I selected an old favorite — a camel-colored, nail head-patterned suit.
As I was removed the suit from its hanger I noticed some wear and tear along the seams . . . and then I saw, to my horror, that the fabric of the pants had worn through, at about the point the keys in my pocket would occupy when I sit. Apparently, during my last wearing of the suit — at least, I hope it was the last wearing, and I haven’t been walking around oblivious to a hole in my trousers for months — the fabric had endured all the keychain and wallet-induced tension it could stand.
I’m sorry to lose this suit. I’ve had it for at least 15 years, and it’s been a faithful member of the Webner suit rotation, hauled out and donned every week or so, winter, spring, summer, and fall. I knew which shirts and ties and belts and shoes “went” with it. That helped make getting dressed in the morning into more of a comfortable routine, where I could let my lower brain make the familiar shirt and tie selections as my higher brain focused on the day ahead.
A good suit becomes like an old friend, capable of gently giving you important guidance. This suit fit well, and if it started to feel a bit snug I knew it was time to push myself away from the table and work to lose a few pounds. Now I’ll need to find another suit to fill the not-gray, not-blue spot in my closet — and to let me know when I should start that diet.