white on white

It's a cliche amongst gardeners that each spring we fall in love with a new plant or flower, a plant which takes over our heart at the exclusion of all else. Last year it may have been ubiquitous, but unseen, this year it is all we lust for. Deep in the midst of the winter that never was, my fleur de l'annee is white on white seersucker.

Not long ago, I had no idea such treasures existed, now I see it most unexpectedly, everywhere. While passing through Mrs. T's office, the television on, this handsome gent stopped me cold in my tracks. I know that suit, I'm having a very similar suit made.


I met with the alchemist last week and ordered a casual, white seersucker summer suit. He'd never seen white on white either, which I attribute to his growing up far away, but was excited to give it a go.

After our tete a tete, I believe I've figured out why so many men are disappointed with the clothes they have tailored. They simply don't put enough work on the front side to be able to articulate what they truly hope to receive on their backsides.

Men have floating memories. By the time a man leaves his tailor he can barely remember what was discussed or more importantly, decided upon, but in his own mind he is certain he knows that he and his tailor are of one mind. A month later he can barely remember showing up, much less what was agreed upon. Is it any wonder he becomes disappointed?

I spent a week prior to our meeting, stealing ideas from sources far and wide, measuring my favorite clothes, then making, bringing and leaving a copy behind, with photos, of my list of wants, to ensure that nothing significant was left to chance. I have little expectation that it will work, but I'm learning as I go along. I hope I'm not disappointed if all goes as well as planned.

Happy Birthday Lou J.

Toad

Photos are from 2/6/12 airing of the television program: Hart of Dixie