The London Lounge

Over the years I've come to prefer trousers that just shimmer on the top of my shoes. The virtually no break crowd. Fair enough, many do. But lately, when an idle mind drifts from the better imponderables, I look at my older trousers that do hang with break, and I think to myself. . . egad how can I wear those! Madness! I should take them boldly to the tailor--who already mutters something that I swear sounds like "high waters" now when making something up for me new--and announce in an authoritative tone worthy of Adolphe Menjou "the length must be changed!" But wait, poor fellow, he's got enough troubles without my sneak attack. Maybe give him one pair at time, now and again, trying to not reveal a deliberate plan and distaste for the old make, and he won't sigh, but rather think maybe I've shrunk with age. Why not? He knows well that familiar fluctuation where a jacket needs help, because sometimes "the stomach is coming out" as he says grinning, in a broken, accented English. "There's something wrong with your tape measure," is my usual reply.

But really, trouser length and other obsessions. Shouldn't I have a drink of sake instead, while wearing trousers with a full break?

How do you make peace with your older pieces?

JCH wrote: How do you make peace with your older pieces?

Same way I make peace with that older piece I see everyday on the other side of the mirror: I utter timeless classic.

“I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.”

That's great, NS! Is that T.S. Eliot? What's it from?

"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

Excellent!!

The LL should have more of this.....