Saturday, September 11, 2010

All Is Right…

…in my world again. Not that things were particularly wrong before yesterday but I’m amidst an LFG weekend—and that makes things extry all right. And to that end, I’ll posit a load of randomanalia and disjointedalia to atone for the recent heaviness. So why not start with my hairy damn chest. And a Brooks Brethren white oxford cloth button down that was made in America. I know it's post Labor Day but the first few days of this week were freakin' hot in the linen Ralph...fifteen year old sportcoat was a must.

Don’t for a moment though, think that heavy is over. For I’ve discovered that this blog is now a most efficacious therapy couch and you, my seventy two readers each day, are unwittingly—my collective shrink—thank you. In addition to purging about my father, you’ve yet to process my angst regarding…three abusive stepfathers, two wives previous to LFG’s mother, my addiction to buttermilk and of course, there’s the Belgians thang.
And another for the record—a level setting thing…I churn this stuff out like sausage…in a keyboard stream of consciousness which in process, does not accommodate editing and rewriting. I have a day job and don’t have the time or interest in doing much beyond using, courtesy of Microsoft WORD, the spell-check function that’s just an F-7 away. Grammar-syntax-editorial polish be damned. However, because the story about my father was important to me, and because LFG blew me off last Sunday for a pool party, I actually took the time to print, proofread and edit my story. Hear me and hear me clearly…don’t get used to it. My inner Maxwell Perkins has now gone back-to-ground. Shut up.

So strap in for the disjointed randomanalia. I’m excited already. Are you?
Last Sunday also saw me swing by the Georgetown Flea Market for a moment. Even if you don’t buy anything—I didn’t—I’m on spending lockdown, it’s a great people watching venue. But there’s always something worth a consumer pounce. 
Vintage deco cuff snaps are always there in abundance. And they, at least in my humble ass opinion, deliver quite the visual treat for less than forty bucks. I used to snag them from the same dealer twenty years ago for fifteen clams. Got my studs and cufflinks here that many years ago. Stud—cufflinks…that’s me.
I don’t think I’ve ever shared the ADG Tie Bar Rule. It’s consistent with what others have declared regarding this little accoutrement…angle it slightly. It creates visual interest…not that horizontality isn’t interesting…just not in this context. Also, consistent with George Frazier’s admonishment to Richard Merkin and the world for that matter…DO NOT wear a tie bar AND a collar pin. You’ll be over—accoutrement-ed. And that’s coming from Mr. Fuzzy. Frazier correctly asserted that if you wear a flower in your lapel…forgo the pocket handkerchief or vice versa. Yep.
I always check out the linen lady’s stuff. Ten bucks can usually land you a pretty nifty linen rag for your breast pocket. I actually bought some small-ish linen dinner napkins from this lady one time—to use as pocket handkerchiefs. Shut the f___ …don’t question my motives or techniques. As Sun Tzu said… “there are walled cities not meant to be attacked…” You don’t want to spar with me on the style—dice fuzzy issues.
Speaking of dice fuzzy…I gave the Belgians a rest on Tuesday and wore my Flusser bottle green suede babies to the office. And as punishment, forced myself to wear socks. Pink ones. The pink badge of whateverishness.
But the Belgies made it out the next day…it was still in the nineties so the top pocket—side flap seam mongrel Flusser togs seemed to be a decent choice. These are a one-off folly and they are showing their wear. That’s what happens when you foolishly select a silk-linen blend for odd trousering. Odd trousering…sounds like something you could get arrest for…especially if accompanying said behavior with pink socks.

Speaking of one-off follies, I have a confession. Years ago when Flusser was on the fifth floor at Saks in Gotham, I used to trade my American Express points for Saks gift certificates to finance my Flusser threads. It was a great gig while it lasted. And folks, as much as I travel, I had at one time, a staggering number of American Express points. Almost one million…and I’m not saying that I accumulated and used a million over a fifteen year period. I’m saying that four summers ago, my points balance was eight hundred and ninety something thousand points. Not bragging…trust me…I pay a high price for the amount of business travel I do. The mainliest thing or toll that it’s exacted on me is bad skin. Flying dehydrates you and couple that with the amount of hooch I drink on the plane and I’ve got Phyllis Diller skin. Hold me.
Ahh…Merkin. My Richard Merkin lithograph from RISD framed nicely…thank God…in a standard sized black frame from Michaels…and they were forty percent off. Add an acid free piece of foam core to the back and we’re in business. Onliest problem now is that I literally have no wall space left to hang it…without taking something down. I’m thinking about rotating my collection.
And yes, we need to tidy up the bedroom a bit. My housekeeper fired me. Either shut up or come over and tidy it yourself. And if you do roll in for some tidying, could you wear one of those little French Maid outfits? Sorry...girls only. I wear pink socks and Belgian loafers admittedly…and publicly. But the idea of Darnell Burgess, Roxanne’s brother, in that little outfit, feather duster in hand, ain’t my game. Sorry but I don’t swing that way.
So I pick up my baby, Miss LFG, from soccer practice yesterday afternoon and you guessed it, she needs cleats. Funny thing happens when you feed these kids…their feet grow. So it was off to Modell’s and then to Cactus, you guessed it, Can-damn-Tina. Ninety something degrees early in the week and chilly enough for my date to need a wrap last night.
My palm pilot…A.D.D. coping techniques do not have to be high-tech. I had to pick up LFG’s overnight bag from her mom.
I’ll report in later on how our first soccer game goes. But LFG is already having a bit of trouble with this year’s team moniker. Their new uniforms are black and white and their coach let them vote on a team name. “Dad, we are the Oreos”… LFG said last night in resignation.
“I wanted us to be the snow leopards…Oreos aren’t fast and they get dipped in milk.” That's my girl.
Onward…time to wake my little Oreo and get ready for soccer. Bliss.



Anonymous said...

As much as I enjoy your blog, fuzzy dice and all, I am really drawn to the idea of some new blog, written expressly about you by three ladies of your acquaintance. That would be something altogether different.

(With a little luck, they could be looking at A Major Motion Picture.)

ilovelimegreen said...

I think I've been snubbed - first, you buy cleats for LFG catecorner from where I work and then you go to dinner up the street from where I live - all in one day. Not so sure what to think of all that.

Mr. Blue said...

Buttermilk? Oh, no. I've always been a Marlon Perkins man myself . . .

James said...

The reason I began my site was to release thoughts that I had trouble expressing. I admire your courage in writing about your father. I wish I could exorcise some of my demons that well.
The photo of LFG's petite fingers around your manly hand almost choked me up. A moment you must keep forever. Happy soccer day, by the way did the beauty in the yellow raincoat ever come back?

Laguna Beach Trad said...

ADG, that photo of green suede tassel loafers, pink socks, and camel trousers is magnificent. Really well done.

Okay, your interest in VF prints has finally rubbed off on me. I'm interested in a few designs to brighten up the stark living room walls of Schloss von AC. Can you recommend a dealer? I'm wary of online merchants.

'Oreos'? WTC?! (=What the Cuss?!) There are several better names: the Orcas, Penguins, Zebras, etc. I suppose though, b&w theme be damned, it's better than the Fig Newtons or Cheese Nips, though the Better Cheddars and SnackWells would have been an improvement.

I'm glad you feel better after your post concering your father. When mine died last summer, I wrote a post about it, in which I was quite honest about certain touchy issues, and I found that it worked. Now I rarely think about it and have moved on, which is either good or bad depending on your perspective.

Anonymous said...

Pondering the pink pig-eared sock puppet on your bedside table......

Anonymous said...

ADG, for some time now I have considered you a genius both sartorially and as a wordsmith. BUT I must respectfully disagree on the angled tie bar. At this point it no longer adds visual interest. To the uninformed person it looks sloppy, and to the informed person it looks as though you've lately been reading all the same style advice as every other clotheshorse out there.

Preppy 101 said...

Since I'm old enough to be your mother, you don't want me in that French Maid outfit, but I'm now on the look-out for you. Oreos - your daughter is way too chic for that group - that I know for sure. I'm gonna be in DC this fall. I'll be the one carrying a pic of you, hoping to run into the famous Maxminimus. xoxo

Lisa said...

Other issues aside: Houston, we’ve got a problem: “my addiction to buttermilk” (huh??? wah????) So all of the 'staged’ photos of drinks in hotel lobbies were just a cover for an addiction to buttermilk? That’s it, I quit! I’m no longer your “collective shrink”. The task is hopeless. Buttermilk?? Three abusive stepfathers and three previous wives I can handle, buttermilk is a totally different animal. I wouldn’t even know where to begin unless to advise making some Ranch dressing with said buttermilk for dipping some vegetables or chicken nuggets. If that’s too much, there are always the bran muffins . . . (think of the fiber, and at your age . . . . . . . .)

PS. Living in the Midwest, I NEVER put my linen blouses away (pants, yes – I do have some standards) it’s a year-round sort of “screw you” to the rules of Memorial Day to Labor Day. Life has too many rules already to be bogged down with the sartorial ones. And as I’ve often been called a ‘cafeteria Catholic’, I guess I’m a cafeteria sartorialist. I’ll pick and choose what I damn well like!

PSS. Never thought I’d be in Virginia two weekends in a row. Three weeks ago I spent a wonderful 5-day stay with two of my kids. Upon arrival, the eldest announced that he did NOT want to attend school in Virginia as planned, but wanted to move home. Spent the rest of the weekend figuring out logistics. Flew home that Monday and drove out the following Friday to pack him up and move him home. Really like Virginia but the traffic sucks with a capital “S”!!!! Have ordered two pairs of Belgians for compensation as my husband’s last words as I drove out that Friday morning were “Glad it’s you and not me!”. That’ll get him (I think : p )

Richard said...

ADG - You have far more than 72 readers a day. Come on, your blog is great!

Anonymous English Female said...

ADG - Did you get that tie bar at Staples?

Gretchen said...

Game On, ADG! Silly stuff or catharsis, reading your entries is as much reward for your minions here as it is for you, you know. Write what you need to and we'll reinforce and support you, and tell you (like the anti-horizontal tie clip...erm, NO) when you're being just plain silly. Gotta tell you those camel linen trousers and that RL coat are some of my favorites of yours that, were I male, I'd be coveting pretty fiercely. Hope LFG's soccer game went well and you two are living high on the daddy-daughter hog. FYI, just to tick off the dimwits who came up with the team nickname, you can always holler, "GO O's!!" which, of course, annoys anyone outside of!

Anonymous said...

LISA !!!!!! I LURVE you.

Matt said...

OK ADG -- Exposed chest hair and a gold too chain?! Very, very fuzzy.

Anonymous said...

AEF ~ LOL!!!

ADG said...

Anonymous...don't discourage her.

Gretchen....thanks. We won the soccer game. Gonna be a tougher year but it's all good. Oh, and I hollered Snow Leopards the whole time.

AnonEngFem...The Dollar General Store

Richard...ok. 74.

Lisa...ok, the buttermilk thing was a blunt the impact of the former wives and other daddies. The linen makes sense. When I lived in New Orleans, I wore poplin/cotton 52/365. Your twice trip to Virginia is a TRIP in itself. I'm sure all of that will work out. be sure and let us know when you are in town. argument from me my friend. I don't wear them often enough to care deeply about that particular set of rules.

AnonymousPinkPuppet...her name is Piggy Pie and it's none of your business what she does.

LagunaTradMon...yeah...I screamed go Snow Leopards during the soccer match and the girls won. Vanity Fair's some top line scoop on them and then I'll either do a post on them this week for more info or you can email me at and I'll take a deeper dive into a primer on buying them. Don't be afraid of eBay...there's some bargains there. The challenge is that an old MP or Clergy caricature...guys in black suits sell for five bucks each. Some of the colourful military images for thirty bucks and some of the cricketers go for three hundred bucks. All pricing examples are fair and accurate so you do need to know a thing or two. There is a guy on eBay who has a shop, somewhere in your area, and his stuff is legit. I've bought from him on eBay. Emporio Leopardi...I think. Also John Wilkes at the Original Vanity Fair Print Company is the most respected seller on the internet. And finally, I have some for sale.

Re Fathers...I hear you. I ruminated on that post for a year before growing the necessary balls to write it. The day after I posted it, I might as well have taken the day off because I was anything but liberated via catharsis. In day two however, I felt like a new person. Thanks.

James...thanks. I like it when you comment on my stories. And no, I've never seen the yellow raincoat lady again. To that end, I simply dress others up in MY yellow raincoat. And regarding the throat lump when seeing the picture...I've come at accept that that phenomenon is one that dads of little girls simply have to learn to manage. No?

Mr. can do better than Marlon Perkins. My Wild Kingdom memories are tainted. Even though the show was usually interesting, it came on on Sunday nights and the pall of Monday morning school was a strong as any programming seduction that any network could have offered me. The scene where the anaconda almost whipped and drowned his ass is an indelible memory though. Do you dress up in a safari shirt when doing your Marlon thang?

AnonymousThreeLadiesBloggingMe...the WORST idea I've ever heard.

Matt…the chest hair is the only hair that doesn’t seem to be vanishing.

Anon…don’t encourage AEF

Female Admirer said...

It's more likely to be 3000 ladies and an attorney for the major motion picture script, surely?
After Liberty for Target and Tintin for Ralph Lauren, ADG for Staples would be a surefire winner.

SouthernProletariat said...

"two wives previous to LFG’s mother, my addiction to buttermilk"....Hmm...never took you for a polygamist, but given the addiction to buttermilk and the Carolina connection- I suppose it all makes sense now. You'd better quit the stuff cold turkey or denim overalls are in your future, my friend. That stuff is hard core....

Patsy said...

OREO = Other Real Estate Owned. Wala, now the team of shrewd real estate moguls, no longer the lame cookie team.

Easy and Elegant Life said...

Agree with LBT, great shoes, socks, trouser combination.

I rather like the randomnalia. But Oreo's? Ooof. Tell LFG to keep fighting the good fight.

Anonymous English Female said...

Southern Proletariat - I didn't know buttermilk is a Southern White Trash thing (I know ADG is). At my first job in NYC - 14 hour days with 5.30am starts - my haute WASP employer's idea of breakfast was to ply us with buttermilk before handing round the Mimosas and we'd be set up for the day.

Young Fogey said...

The Oreos? Whisky Tango Foxtrot? Are the majority of her teammates well-off black girls who don't be talkin' no Ebonics? Regardless of who's on the team, even if they were only thinking of the Nabisco brand sandwich cookie, it's a grossly inappropriate name. It also illustrates the importance of adult supervision of children, and what happens when adults are foolish enough to think that the little darlings, as darling as they may be, have any sense whatsoever. Collectively, anyway.

Fuzzy chest, fuzzy shoes, fuzzy dice--this post is a veritable fuzzy overload. I think we're going to have to start calling ADG The Fuzz-Man or sumpin' like that.

SouthernProletariat said...

AEF- Re buttermilk as a "Southern White Trash thing"- I don't think that you can equate buttermilk strictly to southern "white trash" however, buttermilk is intertwined with southern in my mind- probably more so rural, but rural and white trash are not always the same. There are rural and proper (what I would call southern aristocrat or perhaps known as WASP up north), and rural (aka "country") and then rural and definitely not proper at all (aka "white trash") Now that is just my obervations and opinion on it, which of course is meaningless..

Back to buttermilk- Perhaps I commented as such because it is one of the three main ingedients in biscuits, and recall my grandmother drinking it, and I do equate it with more "country" origins. (I personally find it disgusting, but then I don't eat tomato sandwiches either so they just might pull my southern card for that one if word got out!)

I was just attempting a jab at ADG, but apparently it didn't translate well...

SouthernProletariat said...

Oh, and Anon English Fem...I don't know ADG any more than what I see on this blog, but darling...But ADG? White trash? "shut up"

NCJack said...

Okay, held off as long as I could: THAT'S A GOLD CHAIN SHOWING VIA AN UNBUTTONED SHIRT!!

What next? A peacock proud shot of a pair of white patent square toed shoes? Trou up to the armpits? POLYESTER?

Oh, the ignominy (sp?) of it all.

ADG said...

NC Jack...100% natural fibers in the picture my man. I undid the shirt for affect-effect. Come on man, I'm an artist, an entertainer! And the chain has a cross on it. Take it up with Jesus. If you dare.

SouthernProle...Cat fight! Over me! I love it. Thanks for defending my honor. grandparents were Rural-Proper...that's a good way to characterize that segment of the Southern strata. And you best be eatin' a tomato sandwich this week or we're shipping your ass to Flint Michigan.

AnonEng...and that makes you what? Cockney Builders Tea drinking...upstairs or downstairs help? love.

Fogey....LFG's team is truly, a delightful blend of every color, ethnicity, temperament, dialect. But the onliest attendee who's throwing anything around vernacularly-jargonly that's remotely akin to Ebonics or Old School is me.

Patsy...Other Real Estate Owned...I dig it.

Female Admirer...there hasn't been three thousand. I track my conquests on an excel spreadsheet and we aren't quite there yet. didn't invite us to come see you.

Elegantinimon...We ARE the Snow Leapards my friend. I've declared it.

SouthernProletariat said...

ADG...don't flatter yourself. No cat fight. She, or any other of the 3000 can have you, as I am quite happy in my own right, my dear. I simply didn't want her to misunderstand white trash vs. fuzzy dice-isms... (go snow leopards!)

Summer is a Verb said...

Those are NOT down pillows sir...XXOO

Anonymous said... your blog and your cousin's too! I have a Belgian shoes question...what do you do to make them more sturdy/hardy/less fragile. I know you mentioned that you would post something about how to resole or double sole Belgians. I just can't find it in your blog.
I have 2 brand spanking new ones and I'm afraid to wear them. I figure they'll last about one day...maybe two. Help!? Thanks. Brigid