So, I mentioned last month that despite my talking big in March about being the most conspicuously single Femme, I recently started dating someone. (Amusingly enough, a friend of The Ex’s, and a guy who I’ve known for years and whose Hidden Talents I have mentioned in previous posts.) One of the most entertaining parts about dating a new guy? Dressing him up after your own tastes, of course! Assuming he’s cooperative, there is a special kind of fun in ignoring his actual wardrobe and putting him in exactly the outfit in which you think he will look the hottest. This is particularly true if you have been admiring said guy’s looks for several years but have not previously been in a position to do anything about it. Now that we’ve been dating for a couple of months, I figure this is all fair game.
Despite the fact that I’ve known The Man With The Hidden Talents for years, what I didn’t know is that he has a previously hidden talent for hoarding plaid. He has a truly impressive collection of button shirts, long and short sleeved, in a rainbow array of plaids. I don’t really have a problem with that — there’s nothing wrong with plaid in concept. It’s in execution that it becomes problematic. Anyone with eyes can hardly have failed to notice there are some really horrifying plaids out there. I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to exercise my fashion talents/treat him like a giant doll and play dress up. He needs a few more shirts that are not plaid, for choice green. (He also has several shirts that snap rather than button, but I’ve decided to leave that alone. I was initially unconvinced by the snap thing, but I am willing to admit I’ve been converted to the point that I suspect he is slightly sorry for having convinced me. Snap shirts do in fact provide good entertainment value. Particularly in public.) And hey, I have time on my hands!
After the jump, my quest for good men’s fashion… which turned out to be a little harder than I expected it to be.