You’ve been warned: You will probably see the word “corduroy” in this post at a significantly higher rate than in normal. It’s just the nature of the beast. I promise I won’t overdo it too much.
Today is a bad outfit day. There is no way around it. I couldn’t think of anything, I wasn’t inspired, I just stood in front of my closet and dresser and stared at my clothes. Nothing stuck out at me. I threw on a grey cami (no idea where my white ones went), a sweater and my eggplant colored corduroy pants. Eh. It’s acceptable, but not an outfit I’m proud of. No one is going to tell me I look fashionable today, let’s just leave it at that.
I didn’t realize until I got off the subway and was walking to work that I had on a corduroy-esque jacket as well, in off-white. It’s demin, but it’s got the same pattern as corduroy (which, I learned, was called the “wales” of the fabric, thanks to Wikipedia). Eep. Cords on cords (sort of). That was surely too much, right?
Feeling badly about it, I took to the internet, hoping the answer was “no, it’s fine, do your own thing, there is no such thing as too much corduroy”. But even as I type that sentence, I know it’s wrong. There is such a thing, I’m sure of it, and I demonstrating that today. Perhaps I can get away with it since the jacket is demin, but the wales. The wales!
The all-mighty internet had varied opinions (of course). Answerbag had some encouraging words: corduroy suits are, after-all, at least two pieces. Comforting for a moment, until I realized I certainly wouldn’t be caught dead in a suit like that.
The Corduroy Appreciation Club made me a little nervous, honestly. I decided not to look to them for any sort of guidance. Magnificent Bastard said it could be pulled off…by Yves Saint Laurent. Who I am clearly not. They also mentioned it being acceptable in suit form, but again, I’m not wearing a suit.
Long story short, the reassurance I was looking for was not to be found. I wore too much corduroy today, folks. Too much! I can pull off stripes on stripes, but this was a no-go. At least it’s Friday, and I can drown my superficial sorrows at happy hour after work!