Maybe Fashion Ain’t for Everybody
The latest metrosexual fashion statement for the business elite is men wearing pink shirts. Note that usually by the time I find out about a fashion craze it’s already been and gone. As high-tech and avant-garde as I may sound sometimes, I often proceed with caution and let others test the waters before jumping in.
An example, speaking of water and jumping: I remember a time years ago when I traveled with some friends through the interior and we made a pit stop at Rock Creek. We watched a group of kids jump off a bridge into the water to counter the sweltering heat. A twenty-foot jump would scare the socks off most people, but these kids did it with no fear. There was, however, one little guy no older than 8 who was scared to jump in.
I asked him, “Can you swim?”
“Yes,” was the reply.
“All your friends are jumping off and none of them are getting hurt. If you don’t do it, you will wonder for the rest of your life ‘what would have happened if only I did...?’ You owe it to yourself to do it at least once.”
He stared down at the water for a moment which I’m sure must have felt like an eternity. Quizzically he looked up at me, “Are YOU gonna do it, mister?”
Not one to refuse a challenge, I switched to my trunks and jumped in.
I say all this by way of introduction that I would not even have considered jumping off that bridge had I not the empirical data to support doing so posed no serious hazards to my health. Had some kid smashed his head on a rock, broken an appendage, or gotten snatched by an undercurrent I probably would not have been so secure in my decision.
This morning I was in the herd of office workers stampeding from the train, forming an inpentrible wall at least 10 people thick racing for the station exits. Some poor soul in his mid-20s looking all cool and business-like with his business briefcase, business slacks, business shades (indoors, no less), business sport coat hung over his business shoulder, and business pink shirt was slammed into the wall at every attempt he made to get on the train we just left. Eventually he managed to work his briefcase on the train before the doors slid shut on his arm.
I now have empirical data to support that nobody takes seriously a man wearing a pink shirt. I think I’ll stick with blue.