I admit it. I don't know how to put together an ensemble.
So, generally, I resort to uniforms. Suits for dressy occasions. Jeans and a button down (tucked) or a polo shirt (untucked) for casual wear. Mostly I pull it off. It's the in-between affairs I can't manage. At the DMI Benefit Tuesday night I tried to combine my uniforms, for what I hoped would be a neat but laid-back about being neat effect and probably wound up looking like I'd just shopped at the Salvation Army, with my eyes closed. Tonight I'm going back to the City for a book party. What does one wear to a book party in the City these days?
Actually, it's not in the City as in Manhattan. It's in Brooklyn. Does that matter?
I feel like wearing a car coat over a white T and cuffed jeans with penny loafers, but I've had The Wanderers on my mind lately.
Advice? The object, remember, is to avoid self-consciousness, allow for fade-into-the-background-ability, and yet, when trapped into a conversation, particularly with an attractive woman, not look like either A. if she's youngish, her father or B. a guy her father's age who thinks he can pass for someone close to her age or C. if she's closer to my age, a guy who thinks she's too old for him and believes he could be and ought to be talking to a much younger babe or D. someone who should be taking her drink order or E. the guy outside on the sidewalk she gave a buck to for a cup of coffee on her way in.
By the way, bad as I looked at the benefit Tuesday night, I was still more sharply dressed than David Simon. I'm also in better shape and have more hair.
Guess which one of us was surrounded by attractive women (and men) all night though.
That's right. Both of us. But there were a lot more around him. And Naomi Wolf totally gave me the air.