It's cool enough to wear shirt and tie here in Brisbane again, after the long hot summer. Yesterday, I was the bee's knees apparently, and got a couple of comments about why was I dressed up - I think the thinking was I going along for an interview was in play somewhere there, but wasn't said out loud.
Yes, I was feeling a million dollars yesterday. But then revised myself to half a million dollars, because the only real way to feel the real deal is to put on a good suit jacket, fitted with your pants for better effect. Of course, apart from job interviews, and maybe the depths of July, Brisbane is far too bloody hot to ever contemplate suit jackets.
And then further downgraded that, because, thinking back to Wellington, felt the whole million when I had put my suit jacket on after a really spiffy haircut. There was a place right next to work, hairdressers, where you could go after you had finished for the day, play a bit of Playstation, watch ESPN or Sky Sports on the box, and have your hair reshaped by hunky guys - hey, I'm straight, so I probably have no idea of what hunky really is, they were okay on the eye, let's say...
But there's just something about getting the whole combination right when dressing, and that also includes the decision on whether it will be a glasses day (I have Armani, and yes, I realise I am name dropping), or to go with contacts. Whether to gel the hair up, or to leave it naturally ruffled - by the end of the day with that option though, it just looks messed up.
And to think, for hmm about fifteen years there, I just combed it and created a huge part in my hair. What was I thinking? Or, what am I thinking now, is this whole diatribe on personal grooming a reaction to that upcoming birthday?
Will stop for now, I don't want to infect my other thoughts of the day with this mindless narcissism (if I have spelt it right).
Pauly
Yes, I was feeling a million dollars yesterday. But then revised myself to half a million dollars, because the only real way to feel the real deal is to put on a good suit jacket, fitted with your pants for better effect. Of course, apart from job interviews, and maybe the depths of July, Brisbane is far too bloody hot to ever contemplate suit jackets.
And then further downgraded that, because, thinking back to Wellington, felt the whole million when I had put my suit jacket on after a really spiffy haircut. There was a place right next to work, hairdressers, where you could go after you had finished for the day, play a bit of Playstation, watch ESPN or Sky Sports on the box, and have your hair reshaped by hunky guys - hey, I'm straight, so I probably have no idea of what hunky really is, they were okay on the eye, let's say...
But there's just something about getting the whole combination right when dressing, and that also includes the decision on whether it will be a glasses day (I have Armani, and yes, I realise I am name dropping), or to go with contacts. Whether to gel the hair up, or to leave it naturally ruffled - by the end of the day with that option though, it just looks messed up.
And to think, for hmm about fifteen years there, I just combed it and created a huge part in my hair. What was I thinking? Or, what am I thinking now, is this whole diatribe on personal grooming a reaction to that upcoming birthday?
Will stop for now, I don't want to infect my other thoughts of the day with this mindless narcissism (if I have spelt it right).
Pauly
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