I’ve hit my winter pasty phase early. Late February is generally when I’m sick of winter-begging for some vitamin D and sun damage and generally seek it out. The early arrival of epoch-paste is largely due to the incessantly chilly temps here in the DC area-or for that matter-the entire U.S. And to make matters worse my Polo camel hair overcoat that they made me buy at half price is not yet ready. I had to have the ego let out on it just a little bit.
My twelve days of LFG holiday bliss culminated with an absurd Mini Cooper Convertible test drive this past weekend. One might be able to bargain with the car people when browsing convertibles in twenty five degree weather but let me tell you my friends, you ain’t even gonna get into the stratosphere of the top down Mini experience with tundraesque crosswinds blowing your ass to and fro. I’m a small guy and LFG is certainly little but I felt like we were Chiclets…in the gum package. So I’ve done my duty to LFG and looked at a Mini. It’s too small to be one’s primary buggy-kinda like me.
After the tundra treat, LFG and I ventured over to Middleburg for lunch. The Coach Stop diner was especially crowded so we sat at the counter-no worries. We then learned that it was their final day in business. Another tradition-another family owned endeavour bites the dust.
Middleburg offers a nice little shopping niche that includes a rare supplier of my favorite salad dressing. Don’t argue with me and don’t balk at the price. Call the Crane Crest folks and try this stuff-you’ll thank me a million times over for it. My former friend Anne Dougie gave me my maiden jar of this liquid gold about two years ago. It was long gone so LFG and I pounced on a double dose of it while in Middleburg.
So what is Proper Dressing? To paraphrase my ultra trad buddy from home, W.A.H. … “I be damn if I know”. Not "Damned" but "Damn". Say it with a Southern accent and you've captured the essence of W.A.H.
Country Classics is kinda proper...leastways I think so. A Middleburg based outfitter of all things tweed-tattersall and covert.
Lots if right angles in this joint.
As well as a delightfully surprising supply of brightly coloured socks-a nice unguent for the pasty sorts like me.
LFG insisted on these two pair for me and who was I to argue.
Country Classics is chock full of hacking-windowpane-corduroy-moleskin…all the things that I can’t get without heading to Cordings in London-which I’ll be doing soon.
Around the corner is another nice shop whose stock includes socks from the Smart Turnout line. LFG didn’t fancy those however.
Amazingly though, we found a little Harris Tweed sportcoat for my wanker.
Not sure how this happened but somehow we ended up in that Polo Chevy Chase fitting room. Again. Homeless French-Preppy Man with Flusser camel hair sportcoat over a heavy wool turtleneck draped with Flusser silk finished off with flannel lined LL Bean khakis and Red Wing boots. Our weather remains too sever for the attenuated but more elegant version of Red Wings….my R.M. Williams boots. Not improper but not too proper either-I’d say.
Wouldn't you know it? That damned wool-cashmere-angora blend flat front trouser suit was still there.
And I don’t need any of these shoddings folks but please-shell cordovan boots at half price. Somebody buy them. Now.
Proper dressing in this weather is wide ass open for interpretation and I’ve lately interpreted it …. Loosely...
...With Holiday Tartan Socks
Onward. With a Harris Tweed Wanker Coat.