bloggie blog

Some months ago, I met with a color specialist and learned what colors look best on me. Since then, I’ve bought brown not black, cream not white, gold not silver. No royal blues, no grays, nothing cool. Warm, warm, warm.

But here’s the thing. Most uniforms (literal or figurative) are cool. Waiter, cop, Maytag man, lawyer: the trend is for cool colors. Sure, some cops and lawyers wear brown, but you know what I’m saying.

So why did I buy a black shirt? Because the choral group I’m in wears all black, and I didn’t have a black shirt, and black is the uniform of large on-stage ensembles.

It’s for this. Which is, shall we say, cool.

This coming weekend, I will be in Moab with my family.

I am learning that nobody that I know in LA has ever heard of Moab. This is surprising to me. I always figure that outdoorsy stuff is widely known, but even when I follow “Moab” up with “Arches National Park” I get lots of “huh”s and blank stares of incomprehension. People, just search the word moab on Google images, and you will behold nature’s wonder.

Bought some new shoes in preparation for the trip. My local Runyon Canyon hikes will also benefit from these lightweight hiking shoes, as the old shoes are, well, old. Let’s be honest, they’re just brown cross-trainers … but oh so comfy!

P.S. If I were buying a boot, not a shoe, and were anticipating cooler weather, I would be in love with this fine, fine piece of footwear.

This evening, I am out and about in my suit. I’ve got an audition as a lawyer and then I’m going to the opera, plus the weather is ideal for wearing a jacket. I must look the part: two older gentlemen told me so in plain English. On the Red Line platform he even said I looked “Beverly Hills.” Downtown awaiting the DASH B Line, it was just, “You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” These men were probably a little crazy and a little needy in a way that I couldn’t help them. Or maybe they just wanted to chat. I was terse in my replies, but at least I replied — which I normally do not do at all to street people — so I guess I took these comments as compliments.

Yesterday, I shared my apartment elevator one floor with a guy who complimented me on my clothes. Actually, what he said was, “Mmm, J. Crew, right?” As I looked down to see what I was wearing (no need to look down, but it’s an almost involuntary response, isn’t it?), I realized that I had on pants, tee, dress shirt and sweater vest from Banana Republic. Four from BR, but no J. Crew. I sized him up: well-dressed and chatting me up, probably gay. But not gay well-dressed, no gay mannerisms or stereotypes at all. Plus, what gay man doesn’t know the difference between J. Crew and Banana Republic? So, straight.