Men In Pink

 

F.A.S.H.I.O.N.=

Fendi

Armani 

Saks Fifth Avenue

Hermès

Issey Miyake

Oscar de la Renta

Nina Ricci

Ever since I had the opportunity to sit front row, wide-eyed and star-struck, at the Marc Jacobs Fashion Show during the ever elite Mercedes Benz Fashion Week in New York City when I was 18 years old, I’ve been hooked. My therapist prefers to refer to it as a ‘closet addiction.’ (She’s SO funny with her play on words!) Ta-mate-o. Toe-mot-o.

Now that I have that all cleared up, I’d like to go on record as saying that I have zero expectations when it comes to the way my dates dress. That’s not to say that I don’t desire him to take some sort of pride in his appearance, but I’m definitely not shallow or overly picky by any means…which leads us up to my latest dating encounter. Mr. Richy McMillionaire unquestionably lived up to his nickname. This guy was L-O-A-D-E-D! He had made his millions in the stock-market industry, and was educated enough to pull his investments when the economy was taking a turn for the worse…which left him with a rather substantial fortune. (What in the world did we gals do before Google?!) He had a huge home in the foothills of Park City, located in an exceedingly prestigious gated community. He owned 4 very nice, very expensive vehicles/sports cars…two words; Bugatti Veyron. Lots and lots of boyz toyz…a boat, wave runners, 4-wheelers etc. etc. etc. But I believed the very best part was that we were being set up by mutual friends which I figured was a fairly safe bet because apparently we both had good taste in people, which hopefully meant that we were bound to have other things in common. 

He picked me up almost 30 minutes early, but I suppose when you’re driving the world’s fastest car, it’s to be expected. As I opened the door I hurriedly did a head-to-toe scan of Sir Richard 'Virgin' Branson and was in awe over his well planned, understated, subtle, look that he had put together. (And when I say "he" I of course mean "his assistant.") He was wearing a fairly fitted, pink Affliction shirt that did have some slight embellishments on it, but wasn’t overly done or excessively disdainful. It was fitted to the point that you could see he had a pretty ripped, comparatively cut body. I guess that idiosyncrasy that they say is true...real men really can pull off pink. He was sporting some True Religion jeans that he happened to fill out quite nicely, (wink wink) and almost instantly I caught a whiff of what I knew immediately to be Clive Christian cologne. (I only knew this because I had recently traveled to NYC where I attended an exhibit for ‘The World’s Most Expensive…’ and this latest Clive Christian cologne had been show-cased there, retailing at almost $2,500 a bottle! Sheesh.) I was in love. Well, almost.


The date went remarkably well so when he asked me if I’d be interested in racing Go-Karts the next evening I was excited for the possibilities. I spent the day mulling over and contemplating what I would wear that night…his sense of fashion seemed so effortless and I didn’t want him to think that I was over thinking it so I played the casual-but-cute card to make sure it didn’t seem like I was over doing it. The doorbell rang and as I raced to answer it, my heart skipped several beats due to my excitement. I opened the door and there he stood…in the exact same outfit as the night before. I’m sure the perplexed look caught him off guard but I was quick to greet him with a hug to cover up my state of confusion. Again, the date was borderline majestic and as he walked me to the door he once again proceeded to ask me out for the following night. I once again acquiesced. He mentioned he held season tickets to the Opera and asked if I’d be interested in attending with him, I readily agreed and figured that this would be a prime time to show him the eccentric classy/lady-like side of me…formal gown and all. I flung the door open in an anticipated moment of sheer elation, when much to my bewilderment, there he stood in the exact same fitted pink Affliction shirt. Those unchanged True Religion jeans. That identical friggin’ cologne. For a moment I literally thought I was in that classic, cheesy, Bill Murray movie ‘Groundhog’s Day.’ How could this be? How was it possible that a guy thought it totally fitting to wear this invariable outfit to a movie, and then to race Go-Karts, and finally to attend a formal Opera?! I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it but thought it best not to utter a single solitary word on the subject and just go with it.

Mr.Wierd-o McNeverChangesHisClothes was out of town for the next couple of weeks on business but made sure to contact me methodically through phone calls, email, texts and Facebook. Late one night I received a notification that he had written on my wall. As I clicked on his profile and started going through some of the pictures of all of his recent incredible world-wide traveling adventures, I became painfully aware of the fact that in every one of his pictures he was wearing the subsequent outfit mentioned previously. Including to his own Grandmother’s funeral.

If your date wears the same clothes every day of the year…

UNDATABLE!