Regular readers will remember two stories about buying a watch and buying a heater in the middle east. Both sounded like episodes from Seinfeld at the time. Well here's another one.
This is the story of the cardigan.
Be prepared for bewilderment, tears, angst, condemnation, and redemption (I hope).
Bits you need to know first: I wear suit pants to work. Sometimes I wear a full suit.
Well since 2000 I've been in situations where this has been a requirement of my (senior management) position in a school. It was also a uniform requirement when I worked in the Middle East.
Last year, when I returned to middle management at Woodford House, I sometimes wore a black cardigan that I'd bought in the Middle East. This was as an alternative to a suit jacket.
Because of my, now long established, habit of wearing suits, I don't like jerseys over shirt and tie. Feels off for some reason.
Upshot was the black cardigan got a lot of wear in the winter of 2013.
A few weeks ago SWMBO and I were in Palmerston North meeting Jade.
We arrived early and while we were waiting to have lunch with her SWMBO asked if I needed anything clothes wise.
Another thing you need to know about me - like many blokes, I hate clothes shopping with a passion. SWMBO knows this, so from time to time I arrive home to find a new business shirt, a new jersey, or...ahem...smaller items laid out on the bed for me to try on.
So when she said, "Anything you need?", and we had time to kill, I knew I was sunk. "Um", I said, "I wouldn't mind an alternative cardigan - I wear the black one a lot".
What was I thinking?
It meant we now had to visit every men's clothing outlet in Palmerston North in an illusive search for a snow leopa...sorry - dressy cardigan to go with my suit pants.
We ended up in Farmers. Weary and dulled into submission I tried on a variety of things and ultimately opted for, I thought, a smart grey cardigan. SWMBO assuring me, btw, that it would be fine for work. Yes, she did!
Forward to Monday this week - first day of term 2.
Final thing you need to know - I work in an all girls' school and the staff are overwhelmingly female (I am one of five blokes on the teaching staff).
Not only that - they are an especially fashion conscious bunch.
So, I'm at my work station in the staff room - waiting for briefing to start - when I get my first comment from young Katrina - "Where are the slippers granddad?".
Oh oh, I think - this isn't good.
Next person walks past me - "Warren! You need a pipe and a rocking chair".
Oh oh daddio.
This cutting edge, state of the art banter goes on all day long. [And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. And Friday - even Friday night during after school drinks!].
The only bright spot during the day was young Toni asking me if I was wearing my target pants. YES - I WAS!!!!! (you'll need to go back to the gluten free post to understand this reference to target pants).
Wounded, bloodied, limping, bent over, with my tail between my legs, I drag myself home on Monday night and tell SWMBO my sorry tale.
She laughs! Tells me to ask the women at school what I should wear!!?!?
Support? Respect? A consoling shoulder? Ha!
I've now, of course, followed her advice and consulted our style guru on the staff, young Ange, for some tips. She's thoughtfully provided me with a range of websites to check out, thanks Ange!
Now I'm ready to get back on that (clothes) horse and make a more suitable purchase. The Wozzashank Redemption, I hope.
Watch this space for how I get on. Will it pass the Woodford House fashionistas??
Love and peace - Wozza