Tuesday, April 5, 2011
It may look like I left you out to dry on Thursday, with nary a peep from the ol’ word processor, but rest assured we’re square. If only you were clairvoyant, you would’ve known I had planned on abandoning you later this week, but with two posts simmering on the range, we’re basically even. What’s more, these posts are being produced under the dreamy, ethereal haze of Zyrtec-D, so I can’t wait to discover what I’ve written when I finally proofread this shit.
As I near the halfway mark in my quest to acquire 10 blazers, I thought it would be timely to record some of my more worthwhile findings. 10 may seem like a wholly arbitrary number, but I assure you it isn’t. It’s nice and round, and more importantly it’s exactly how many days there are in two work weeks. That’s the most extreme scenario I’ve projected, anyhow, where I’d need to don something different for 10 consecutive business days. Statistically improbable, sure, but you can never be too prepared.
The first takeaway is location. You’ve got to find your place. I’ve probably canvassed all the brick-and-mortar locations that ostensibly carry sports jackets, from Gap to Marshalls to Jos. A. Bank to Steinmart to JCPenney and heaven knows where else, and department stores seem to work best for me. I thought I would have the most luck with Jos. A. Bank, but the atmosphere was wretched with what I assume was a commission-based sales structure. Marshalls boasted some recognizable brands, but damn it if their jackets weren’t all shimmery. I guess that’s stylish? To sparkle like a tween vampire?
I didn’t fare so well at Banana Republic. For some reason, I always feel like I’m attending a funeral as a guest–or the main attraction–whenever I try on their clothes. I’m also wary of the store name, because I prefer my republics to be founded on conceits such as liberty and the rule of law, rather than fruit. I’ve spent the most money at Belk, undeterred by my run-in with his douchebag grandson a few years ago.
Ultimately, though, it comes down to the jacket itself, and here are the things I want. No polyester, first and foremost, for durability’s sake–cotton or wool, all the way. Minimal to no shoulder padding is also a must, unless you’re going for the Hillary look. And finally, fit is important, which means you’ve got to try them all on. Sure, you might have a numbered size in mind, but you just won’t know until you wear it. But when you do find a good jacket, feel the right amount of weight flush against you, you’re golden, and then it’s showtime.