Last Sign of Summer

Well, here I am expecting to be congratulated for putting on clothes again. Some things never change. But I have to say this summer, despite spending most of it hiding out in the basement working on this Whitman book for Tin House, was The Summer of White Jeans. I’ve drifted from more formal modes of dress and am now in a more comfortable (and  affordable) niche: informal formality, the kind of gear you wear if you’re taking your grandmother to lunch or the museum–or, in this particular case, going to check out a hidden used book warehouse in a forgotten pocket of Old Weird Philadelphia (place had Geiger counters, I have photographic proof). But with climate change being harder to ignore, the old rule about white being verboten between Labor Day and Memorial Day must be cast to the side. It’s about what the weather is doing, not what the calendar says. So perhaps this suit, the amalgam of formality and rugged practicality, is the suit of the balmy future. That said, it appears that this will be the last of the warm days in these parts. So sleep well, White Jeans and Cotton Jacket. I’ll see you in Spring.

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