i was a child of the 80s but thank god there are no pictures to prove it. even without the general fashion faux pas that were the 80s, i was the guy who`s mother dressed him, well she was paying so i really didn`t have much choice. although i`m still not sure how i convinced my mother spring for the powder blue suit and espadrilles for my high school graduation.
after i began making my own money, my first serious girlfriend made it a point to find me a tailor. when you have an ass as high and round as mine it`s extremely difficult to find pants off the rack. my other problem at that age is i was tall, thin, with no shoulders; so i also needed to find shirts. all psychoses aside she helped shape my wardrobe and what she didn`t help with, my first wife finished the job.
over the years, i`ve grown; in more ways than one; my shoulders have filled out, i no longer have `bert` arms and i`m more comfortable in my own skin. i can actually dress myself without embarrassing or causing my companions to have some sort of ocular failure. although vic loathes the bright orange t-shirts that i possess, but i think that`s more via association with UT sports than anything else. the orange shirts are a holdover from 2000 when i decided that the navy, grey, black and khaki that primarily made up wardrobe needed to be changed for a more colourful look.
