I went drinking with some work people last night. It was a post-work wine and chat about things. One of them revealed that when they first spotted me they thought I looked like an eccentric, the sort of person who has cravats and pocket watches.
I wasn't wearing either of these items at the time. Or anything even mildly outlandish so it seems that I've now reached the point where I don't need foppish affectations to come across as the sort of berk who frets about socks too much.
My wardrobe is returning to form. Every time I go to Devon I pick up more items, the last trip involved my first suit. I don't wear a suit for work. Most people don't even wear shirts, which isn't to say they run around topless, but that T-shirts are the usual thing.
I'm not sure what I'll wear this suit for, I suggested that once a month we have 'bitching suit day' where a chap can wear something lilac or a solid tweed. Pipes were also mentioned, so we could discuss matters of importance while loading up some nice clay pipes. The suit I brought up was a light-weight tweed number, perfect for spring time. Now I just need an good excuse to break it out.
I think it's a sign of how I'm feeling more comfortable in my job that now the suits are starting to reappear. Relocating up here required a lot of changes, and I initally thought that I was going to leave all the dandy-style misadventures behind.
Now I know that is wrong. It's just that the part of you that makes you want to invest in waistcoats and cufflinks travels slower than the rest of you. So it takes a while to catch up with the rest of you. It's here now, and judging by the misadventures of last night it's just as potent as it ever was.
I wonder if they are ready for it.
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