Clothes Make the Man?

As the nuptials of The Nuke and Tuttle approach, a decree came down from on high that Your Humble Scribe, not having sufficient decorative apparel for such an occasion, must be taken forth and directed to acquire sufficient habillement for the occasion of his daughter's wedding.

As much as the Sarge would like to wear his old uniform to the affair, after all Tuttle will be in uniform, perhaps even mess dress, it seems that the bloody thing has shrunk since it was last worn in 2006, upon the occasion of The WSO's commissioning into the United States Navy. I guess thirteen years hanging in the closet has had a deleterious effect on the material.

Damned the bad luck.

Without the benefit of uniform to fall back upon, it must needs be desirable for the Sarge (that's right, moi) to obtain an actual suit. The Missus Herself declared that the standard outfit of navy sport coat and khaki trousers were insufficient for the solemn duty of "giving my daughter away." An ancient custom I'm sure, I have done it once before when The WSO got hitched to Big Time some nine years ago. (For that occasion blazer and khakis were "fine" as the wedding was at a golf course and a number of naval aviators would be in attendance. Surprisingly they didn't wear their flight suits, though I'm sure they wanted to.)

As to the "giving away" bit, apparently The Nuke decreed that she desired both parents to walk her down the aisle and toss the reins over to Tuttle at the end of that walk. Hhmm, looking at that last sentence, I can see why The Nuke wants Mumsie on hand to control the baser instincts of her pater familias. After all The Nuke was in attendance at her baby sister's wedding and perhaps recalled her father asking The WSO, in a faux-Asian accent, "Where is your farm?" Causing The WSO to nearly lose it, it was quite a struggle for her not to laugh and to give the appropriate reply. If you have ever seen (and remember) the film Tropic Thunder, you might know what I'm talking about.

I may have also threatened Big Time with serious bodily harm should he ever harm my daughter in any way, shape, or form. Which occasioned an odd look from the justice of the peace presiding, and a slight chortle from the bride.

Anyhoo, I digress.

Now I have never owned an expensive pair of shoes before, those shoes in the opening photo (being representative of one of the two pair I purchased on Friday last) meet the classification of "expensive" in my book, your mileage might vary. One pair is in black (to honor the SWOs out there, and black goes with anything), the other being brown, as can be seen above. (Which, I am assured, will look simply marvelous with my dark blue suit.)

The black ones look just like those above only, as you may have guessed, are in black leather. Most comfy are these shoes and, truth be told, I was in need of a pair of shoes that would actually look out of place on the sideline of a sporting event. My all-round, go to shoes for the past twenty something years look, to me, rather like coach's shoes. They are comfortable and you can run in them. Can't do that in those pictured above. Well, you could but I suppose it would ruin 'em.

So shoes were purchased, as were shirts, ties, and suits, two suits to be precise, one in black, one in blue. 'Tis only the second and third suits I have owned where the jacket and pants were made of the same material. I had a lovely dark charcoal pin-striped suit some years back, but I was a smoker back then and a stray ember burned a small hole in the pants at some semi-formal affair I attended back then.

Bloody things also shrunk in the closet. (Mayhaps I should look into lining my closets with some anti-shrink substance, do they make such a thing?)

At any rate, Your Humble Scribe shall be suitably caparisoned when the wedding occurs. I also have a "back up suit" as well (buy one get one free sort of thing), so I am well-equipped for semi-formal events in the immediate future.

But the one in October is the one that matters. For this happy couple -

Lovely aren't they?