rags

My good woman meets me in front of Baker’s Delight at Eastland at 3 pm. For three days she has been looking at men and the clothes they wear. We have a deal that we will upgrade my wardrobe.

Driving to Eastland I think of some ground rules. We will regard today as reconnaissance with actual purchases made at a later time. All thinking about garments must be predicated on getting the shoes right because shoes are the item I have greatest difficulty obtaining.  

I’m feeling hassled and put upon when I arrive at Eastland after a conversation with my mother. My good woman wants to rush into the first shop but I ask for five minutes grace to compose myself, and plonk my arse on a park-type bench in front of a hot biscuit vendor. I’m short on most human virtues right now.

My good woman walks ahead of me into the Myer store. Not ten metres from the ground floor entrance is a rack of clothes with the label Rodd and Gunn, a thinly disguised ruse suggesting its buyers are hunters and big-game fishermen. I’ve seen the name before, regard it as clothes for wankers. I’m about to join them.

A dumpy blond woman with most of her rubicund cleavage on view asks if I’d like to try on the armful of garments my good woman has acquired in the space of two minutes. We make our way to a fitting room. A jacket—price tag $400—is draped on my shoulders. As far as jackets go—and I’ve never thought of myself as wearing a jacket—it looks pretty good. At 30 per cent off it’s a snip.

A pair of long pants follow. I don’t wear long pants, no matter the season, no matter the weather. This concession is part of my attempt to look the part for my job, seeing as the income has assumed a new importance now I’m about to have two mortgages to deal with.

To cut to the chase, we never leave Myer, visit two other fitting rooms and I try on another 20 articles of apparel for the spiffy gent. I amuse myself by entertaining the dumpy cleavage with my wit. Nearly two hours later my good woman and I stand in front of the till with two shop ladies.

I buy two tee-shirts of superior quality, three button-up shirts with collars, two pairs of long pants made by Rodd and Gunn and Sportscraft, one pair of long shorts, and the fancy linen jacket. I have resigned myself to this being a major cost. At $785 it’s more than I’ve spent on clothes in 30 years, totalled.

I’m not sure how I’m going to live with myself.

Rock on.