Because I’m an Old Guy now, it seemed to me that I should have some Old Guywear. Nothing as frightening as Pat Boone shoes or mid-chest-level pants or anything. But you know, maybe something a dude who was trying to pass himself off as being moderately mature might wear.
You know, like a sport coat to throw with a nice pair of jeans when you go out with your other adult friends, who also aren’t dressed like they staggered out of a goodwill store bleary-eyed one morning.
(Come on, I’m a software guy by trade. We’re not exactly known for our fashion sense.)
Anyway, since I’m not good at picking out presents anymore for special occasions—like, say, a 40th birthday*—I figured asking the Puddinette to keep an eye out for a nice, casual blazer sport or coat for me wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Yesterday, she sent me a link to one, wondering if I’d like it.
It was a nice coat. You can kind of see it in the screen grab of the website I posted below. Yep, it’s almost what I’m looking for, even(although between you and I, I feel like it oughta be tweed and have those dusty Masterpiece Theater-esque elbow patches, if you know what I mean). I might have really liked it if, you know, it hadn’t made me suddenly relive everything that was wrong and awkward about my elementary school years.
Yes, that’s right, anyone who falls within the incredibly broad range of sizes above is henceforth “PORTLY”.
Congratulations, sir, you’re a portly fellow.
Look, I’m not sure who in production and/or marketing thought would be a good idea to plaster the label “Portly” all over this retailer’s website, but somebody did. And just like that, they magically teleported me back to the days of living “Husky”.
As you might recall, I’ve had very specific thoughts about the use of “husky” in the past. In fact, my very first “Questions I Want Answers To” post was all about that very term. Not coincidentally, I found myself rereading that post today.
Gee, I wonder what triggered that idea?
Anyway, in case you were wondering what I think about “husky”—and by extension, this new “portly” business—why not check out that post yourself? It’s always a good time to go swimming through the archives, right?
Several things have plagued me since my youth, but there’s only question that I can recall having all the back in first or second grade: could they not come up with anything better than the term “husky” for boys’ jeans needing, um, a little extra room? I mean, really, when you’re a little dude kickin’ it up in the early elementary grades, life is rough enough without having to carry a label that’s simultaneously synonymous with dogs and pudginess. Your formative school days are spent trying to figure out why anyone needs to understand the “schwa” sound and then later having to dodge little Jenny on the playground (because she’ll kiss you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if she catches you), so clearly, no one needs to have to the carry the additional burden of a label that basically means “rotund”.
All that said, at least, if nothing else, you know that us portly folk still tend to have a decent sense of humor about things.
Oh, and hey, if anyone knows where I can get a nice jacket—you know, maybe without all the derision—let me know!
*I mean, we all know what I really want, but that’s got to be earned, not given.