…Clothes that is.
LFG is back with her mom. I loved every minute of my week with LFG and my mom but I’m ready for some selfish time. To that end, I’m headed to the shower and then into Old Town. There’s a Stoli-Dirty-Dry-Olives-Up with my name on it. Then it’s over for Sushi.
Ok…I can take all of your bullshit about my go to hell clothes but cut me a break on my picture takin’. This blog is a solo act. If you see me out tonight in Old Town-this is my rig. Nan. Red belt and black suede Gucci Bits. Shut Up.
I’m not certain that there is one truly correct answer regarding the origins of Go To Hell Clothes. Methinks that a big part of the genesis comes from two sources-the 19th Hole at the Club and the Fratty House. Whatever-I just like an element of GTH clothes in my closet. As I’ve said regarding other sartorial items that push the envelope, you’ve gotta have a healthy measure of don’t give a shitake to pull any of these looks off. Also, you have to know your terrain. You don’t want to wear a home jersey to an away game.
We even have a subtle-ish (shut up) version of GTH in khaki.
And we have the yin-yan. Day-Evening GTH trousers over here. Shut up.
You have to be able to stand the ridicule. I think the moment that closed the deal on my respect for Toad was when he referred to my winter GTH trousers as “looking like the seat covers on a 1973 Maverick”.