Friday, December 5, 2008

They can buy, but can't put on my clothes

I bought corduroy pants yesterday. Yes, you may point and tell me I'm an old geezer.

Granted, they're Carhartt, and they're baggy-ish cargo pants. So they're at least supposed to be in my style. But still. Corduroy. Not sure how to feel about that.

Then again, it might not be until I wear a corduroy shirt and beige slacks that you need to start worrying...

So now I'm walking around the office, announced by a soft swishing sound. Swish, swish, swish. Who's that? Beardo, can't you tell from the swishing?

Mah Girl came to the conclusion that these are not pants for assassins or ninjas. Stealth is out of the question.

I'm not far from applying for a membership here. I mean, come on. A membership card in a corduroy swathe. How can you beat that?


Eva said...

Manchester väcker minnen hos en 70-talist *ler* Minns bredspåriga skogsgröna manchesterbyxor (hade även ett par i diarrébrunt) och det var INGA smyga-runt-brallor *flinar*

Jesus Jones trillade jag på igen när jag spotifiyade (märkligt hemmameckat uttryck jag drog till med där då)igår. En klassiker.

beardonaut said...

Ja, jag kände mig typ tio igen när jag hade dem på mig. Swisch swisch.