This will be an abbreviated post this morning, dear dapsters, as TDT must spend significant time and energy repairing and rebuilding the ego following sunrise yoga.
Which brings me to today's musing: there are a great many spiritual and athletic pursuits during which it is perfectly possible to bring the dapper. Yoga is not among them. After a yoga session this morning, there was nothing left to conclude but that, even if you dress stylishly and appropriately for class, move with power and grace, breathe in time with your movements, hold every pose with beauty, and fill your soul with equanimity (and for the record, I did none of these things), you will, without a doubt, look like a barnyard animal. And by "you" in the last sentence, I mean "I." Actually, everyone else in the class looked pretty great, yoga wise, but even so there was no dapper to be found.
But yoga is really not about looking good, is it? This leaves one a fundamental spiritual choice. Either divorce your sense of well being from your sense of good looking or do as the dapper have done for generations: when it is impossible to celebrate and acknowledge external beauty, celebrate the dapper within you. Just don't go making a habit of it.
I bow to the dapper in you,
TDT
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Shoes
No clever title today? No, The Dapper Tightwad can offer no punny title for today's introductory post on shoes better than the groanworthy excellence to be found here. I leave it to the masters.
Besides, dear dapsters, the topic of shoes is too broad for a single post and too deep for puns. Indeed, we will revisit the topic of shoes frequently to muse and celebrate and kvetch. In the meantime, however, and well before we start on styles, makers and matching, let us begin by setting foot where only a tightwad would: the thrift store.
With respect to yesterday's admission--nay, point of pride!--that TDT has no squeamishness when it comes to the dead man's shoes, let me clarify that the truly tight and the truly dapper shop for cast-off footwear with a gimlet eye and exacting standards.
What does this mean? This means that most visits to thrift-shop shoe aisles will bear no fruit. After much trial and error and many rookie mistakes, TDT tenders for your consideration the following guidelines and tips for successful shoe thrifting:
1. Examine every shoe rack in the store. TDT has often found excellent men's shoes mixed in with both women's and children's shoes.
2. Look beyond the shoe racks. Often the nicest shoes are up front under glass. And because the shoe rack is a constant merchandising display hassle--shoes are always falling off the racks into the interstices--look between the racks and around them. Nearby you will often find a shopping cart full of shoes: a sign of too much stock or too little patience for shelving it. Dig.
3. Insist on perfect fit. Do not allow a bargain price to dull your wits. Poorly-fitting shoes are a nightmare worth no amount of savings at the register. This means trying them on and walking around the store. And for the love of Pete, dapsters, wear socks for the occasion.
4. Insist on at least very good condition. Are the shoes broken in? Fine. Do they need polishing? No worries. Do they need laces? Easy as pie. Do they need new half-soles, stitching, gluing or heels? Put them back. There is no point in thrifting in the shoe aisle just to pay premium dollar at the cobbler. If you are going to spend that kind of money, buy new shoes. Besides, what is really going to happen is that your beautiful-but-in-need-of-repair bargains are going to sit in your closet unrepaired, gathering dust until you finally donate them back to Goodwill.
5. Look for name-brand quality makers. TDT has purchased some gorgeous shoes and boots by Cole Haan, Allen-Edmonds, Bostonian, Dan Post, and Foster & Son, all from second-hand sources. Not familiar with the brands? Bring your phone and Google 'em.
6. Don't stop at brand. Some fancy designers stamp their names on sub-par footwear. Look for quality materials and construction, i.e., leather soles, leather uppers, and real stitching (not just glue). Sad is the dapster who brings home the perfect shoe only to have it delaminate on the first hot day.
7. Allow a bargain to nudge you out of your comfort zone, but unless you are this guy, do not permit the promise of mere savings to lead you in bad fashion directions just for "fun." Your closet will fill with fun shoes you don't wear, because, frankly, you are dapper and have more sense than to wear bad shoes.
The advice above should save you some heartache, footache and hassle, but it will do so by rendering unsuitable almost every pair of shoes in the shop. Do not fret. Keep up your periodic peregrinations of the second-hand outlets and you will enjoy the occasional victory.
Also, because TDT wears sneakers infrequently and thrifts for them rarely, our discussion of bargain footwear will stop well short of casual kicks, which is a fashion universe unto itself, and a widely covered one at that. For a brilliantly curated look at an underreported yet vibrant side of sneaker culture, spend some time here.
Finally, a word about TDT'speriodic frequent hipster-hazing: though we may share the universal goal of more love, if indeed not merely less hate, the dapper must distinguish themselves from the hipsters, whose goal, it seems to me, is precisely contrapuntal to the values we here espouse: fine habiliments, well coordinated, for the people. That said, we pick no fight with the hipster's aim to shock and amaze, draw attention, nudge, provoke, and stand apart from the people in an opaque and inscrutable cocoon of cool. Indeed, we join together in the same house of worship--the thrift shop--where we may share in the love of the bargain and in the joy of repurposing the cast-off raiments of those who would pay full retail. Nod and smile at your hipster brethren. Just don't pick up what they're putting down.
Frugally yours,
TDT
Besides, dear dapsters, the topic of shoes is too broad for a single post and too deep for puns. Indeed, we will revisit the topic of shoes frequently to muse and celebrate and kvetch. In the meantime, however, and well before we start on styles, makers and matching, let us begin by setting foot where only a tightwad would: the thrift store.
With respect to yesterday's admission--nay, point of pride!--that TDT has no squeamishness when it comes to the dead man's shoes, let me clarify that the truly tight and the truly dapper shop for cast-off footwear with a gimlet eye and exacting standards.
What does this mean? This means that most visits to thrift-shop shoe aisles will bear no fruit. After much trial and error and many rookie mistakes, TDT tenders for your consideration the following guidelines and tips for successful shoe thrifting:
1. Examine every shoe rack in the store. TDT has often found excellent men's shoes mixed in with both women's and children's shoes.
3. Insist on perfect fit. Do not allow a bargain price to dull your wits. Poorly-fitting shoes are a nightmare worth no amount of savings at the register. This means trying them on and walking around the store. And for the love of Pete, dapsters, wear socks for the occasion.
4. Insist on at least very good condition. Are the shoes broken in? Fine. Do they need polishing? No worries. Do they need laces? Easy as pie. Do they need new half-soles, stitching, gluing or heels? Put them back. There is no point in thrifting in the shoe aisle just to pay premium dollar at the cobbler. If you are going to spend that kind of money, buy new shoes. Besides, what is really going to happen is that your beautiful-but-in-need-of-repair bargains are going to sit in your closet unrepaired, gathering dust until you finally donate them back to Goodwill.
5. Look for name-brand quality makers. TDT has purchased some gorgeous shoes and boots by Cole Haan, Allen-Edmonds, Bostonian, Dan Post, and Foster & Son, all from second-hand sources. Not familiar with the brands? Bring your phone and Google 'em.
6. Don't stop at brand. Some fancy designers stamp their names on sub-par footwear. Look for quality materials and construction, i.e., leather soles, leather uppers, and real stitching (not just glue). Sad is the dapster who brings home the perfect shoe only to have it delaminate on the first hot day.
7. Allow a bargain to nudge you out of your comfort zone, but unless you are this guy, do not permit the promise of mere savings to lead you in bad fashion directions just for "fun." Your closet will fill with fun shoes you don't wear, because, frankly, you are dapper and have more sense than to wear bad shoes.
The advice above should save you some heartache, footache and hassle, but it will do so by rendering unsuitable almost every pair of shoes in the shop. Do not fret. Keep up your periodic peregrinations of the second-hand outlets and you will enjoy the occasional victory.
Also, because TDT wears sneakers infrequently and thrifts for them rarely, our discussion of bargain footwear will stop well short of casual kicks, which is a fashion universe unto itself, and a widely covered one at that. For a brilliantly curated look at an underreported yet vibrant side of sneaker culture, spend some time here.
Finally, a word about TDT's
Frugally yours,
TDT
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Briefly
Because The Dapper Tightwad does not have to see your skivvies, there is no advice or rule to offer on this subject, save this:
I do NOT have to see your skivvies.
Seriously. No one needs to see that you are wearing boxers. Or briefs. Or some preposterous plum-smuggling, Dirk-Digglerizing donglonger doodad. I am not hating, I just really do not need to see that anymore than I need to see your granny in her Spanx or your whale-tail waving from your low-low-low-rise horizon.
You no doubt have your own preferences, which I will respect automatically, what with the you-not-showing/me-not-seeing thing above, trusting instead that you have developed your preferences over the years with the wisdom of accumulated experience. What kinds of experience? Funny you should ask. Perhaps you have encountered one or more of the following phenomena:
1. Boxers under snug blue jeans on a humid day. Result: the downtown taquito.
2. Failed elastic on a long flight. Result: the slideways.
3. Insufficiently supportive briefs in yoga class. Result: unhappy baby.
4. Going commando under microfiber slacks. Result: sheer entertainment.
5. Difficulty conceiving
In any case above, you know what to do. If you want to have some fun and derring-do with your underpants, I applaud you, but no one is really looking. On the other hand, if you endeavor to feel chaste and secure in your choice of conservative briefs, keep in mind that there are settings where the tighty-whitey is the height of fabulous fashion. Underwear is nothing if not treacherous.
Finally, it should be noted that The Dapper Tightwad, though an inveterate thrifter, buys only new-in-the-package* package packaging. Though I will not turn up my nose at a dead man's shoes in the Goodwill, I have never even looked at the price tag on a pair of underwear in any thrift store. It's an ick thing.
But hey, no one's looking.
Frugally yours,
TDT
* A loyal reader suggests the modifier "untainted."
I do NOT have to see your skivvies.
Seriously. No one needs to see that you are wearing boxers. Or briefs. Or some preposterous plum-smuggling, Dirk-Digglerizing donglonger doodad. I am not hating, I just really do not need to see that anymore than I need to see your granny in her Spanx or your whale-tail waving from your low-low-low-rise horizon.
You no doubt have your own preferences, which I will respect automatically, what with the you-not-showing/me-not-seeing thing above, trusting instead that you have developed your preferences over the years with the wisdom of accumulated experience. What kinds of experience? Funny you should ask. Perhaps you have encountered one or more of the following phenomena:
1. Boxers under snug blue jeans on a humid day. Result: the downtown taquito.
2. Failed elastic on a long flight. Result: the slideways.
3. Insufficiently supportive briefs in yoga class. Result: unhappy baby.
4. Going commando under microfiber slacks. Result: sheer entertainment.
5. Difficulty conceiving
In any case above, you know what to do. If you want to have some fun and derring-do with your underpants, I applaud you, but no one is really looking. On the other hand, if you endeavor to feel chaste and secure in your choice of conservative briefs, keep in mind that there are settings where the tighty-whitey is the height of fabulous fashion. Underwear is nothing if not treacherous.
Finally, it should be noted that The Dapper Tightwad, though an inveterate thrifter, buys only new-in-the-package* package packaging. Though I will not turn up my nose at a dead man's shoes in the Goodwill, I have never even looked at the price tag on a pair of underwear in any thrift store. It's an ick thing.
But hey, no one's looking.
Frugally yours,
TDT
* A loyal reader suggests the modifier "untainted."
Friday, July 19, 2013
Socks To Be You
Consider the humble sock and its many remarkable and mostly unglamorous roles: impact cushion, friction barrier, sweat absorber, insulator, and, yes, fashion accessory. Too often, for too many would-be dapsters, its chief role is, regretably, outfit killer. [Though, for the record, that pair in the middle is kinda fly.]
The good news is that nowhere in the modern dapster's wardrobe is there more room for sartorial expression and play, more opportunity for comfort, and bigger bang for your buck than in the sock drawer.
Socks--along with undershirts and skivvies--are on the very short list of items for which I will shell out my hard-earned cheddar for new merchandise at full retail prices. In my experience, sock quality starts at good even near the bottom of the price spectrum and goes up to great, tracking closely to quality. If you want to cheap out, you'll get a decent sock. If you can afford to pay a bit more, you'll get better quality. That said, as with undershirts, the correlation between quality and price begins to fall apart well before you hit ridiculous price levels. I kind of like this sock, but at $35, it is not giving you appreciably more than you'd get from this sock, and I invite anyone who may be of the mind and means to pick the first sock because it's more expensive consider the following:
Buying three pairs of cotton socks for yourself: $35
Donating the other 11 pairs you got for that $35: priceless
Or...
One pair of cotton socks for yourself: $35
Walking around in $35 socks like a boss: feckless
The traditional, safe advice for those of us looking to project a masculine vision of fashion has always been to match the color of the sock to the color of the pants. In some settings, this advice is iron clad, chiefly for formal occasions. Please, do not have zany fun with your socks where formal wear is required. If you must flip up your kilt at the style police during a black-tie function, go with some nice, tasteful azure dots or a little texture. Better yet, if you're feeling scrappy and itching for a dust-up, go sockless.
[This space reserved for discussion of socks with sandals, should it ever become necessary. It is not necessary, is it, dapsters?]
Beyond the formal, however, the rule fails. It fails in that, as with the tie, the sock offers the modern dapster much room for flair. The explosion of stripes, dots, contrasting colors, patterns, and textures of modern socks leave us a palette so marvelous and enticing that the mind boggles.
And lest you think that good, edgy socks are for hipsters only, consider this: among the earliest adopters of the fun sock is former POTUS George Herbert Walker Bush, always an icon of preppy fashion, as discussed in this excellent piece over at Ivy Style.
An aside on politics: let it here be noted that, when it comes to fashion, The Dapper Tightwad knows no political boundaries. Appreciation for style, as with charity, breaking bread and sharing wine, is an opportunity for coming together. I will always compliment the thoughtfully attired, regardless of political orientation, and will confine the expression of my politics to the way I live my life, the way I rant on the facebooks, and the way I vote. Mostly.
The final word on socks from TDT: when it comes to foot-forward fashion, have some fun, but as with all other outfit choices, chose color compatibility or delightful contrast over shock and awe.
Frugally yours,
TDT
The good news is that nowhere in the modern dapster's wardrobe is there more room for sartorial expression and play, more opportunity for comfort, and bigger bang for your buck than in the sock drawer.
Socks--along with undershirts and skivvies--are on the very short list of items for which I will shell out my hard-earned cheddar for new merchandise at full retail prices. In my experience, sock quality starts at good even near the bottom of the price spectrum and goes up to great, tracking closely to quality. If you want to cheap out, you'll get a decent sock. If you can afford to pay a bit more, you'll get better quality. That said, as with undershirts, the correlation between quality and price begins to fall apart well before you hit ridiculous price levels. I kind of like this sock, but at $35, it is not giving you appreciably more than you'd get from this sock, and I invite anyone who may be of the mind and means to pick the first sock because it's more expensive consider the following:
Buying three pairs of cotton socks for yourself: $35
Donating the other 11 pairs you got for that $35: priceless
Or...
One pair of cotton socks for yourself: $35
Walking around in $35 socks like a boss: feckless
The traditional, safe advice for those of us looking to project a masculine vision of fashion has always been to match the color of the sock to the color of the pants. In some settings, this advice is iron clad, chiefly for formal occasions. Please, do not have zany fun with your socks where formal wear is required. If you must flip up your kilt at the style police during a black-tie function, go with some nice, tasteful azure dots or a little texture. Better yet, if you're feeling scrappy and itching for a dust-up, go sockless.
[This space reserved for discussion of socks with sandals, should it ever become necessary. It is not necessary, is it, dapsters?]
Beyond the formal, however, the rule fails. It fails in that, as with the tie, the sock offers the modern dapster much room for flair. The explosion of stripes, dots, contrasting colors, patterns, and textures of modern socks leave us a palette so marvelous and enticing that the mind boggles.
And lest you think that good, edgy socks are for hipsters only, consider this: among the earliest adopters of the fun sock is former POTUS George Herbert Walker Bush, always an icon of preppy fashion, as discussed in this excellent piece over at Ivy Style.
An aside on politics: let it here be noted that, when it comes to fashion, The Dapper Tightwad knows no political boundaries. Appreciation for style, as with charity, breaking bread and sharing wine, is an opportunity for coming together. I will always compliment the thoughtfully attired, regardless of political orientation, and will confine the expression of my politics to the way I live my life
The final word on socks from TDT: when it comes to foot-forward fashion, have some fun, but as with all other outfit choices, chose color compatibility or delightful contrast over s
Frugally yours,
TDT
Thursday, July 18, 2013
More on Sartorial Foundations: The Hella Don't
Having established the unshakable basis of dapper style--the undershirt--I thought it might serve our community well to explore other foundational elements. Over the coming days we shall pursue discussion of socks, boxers and briefs at our leisure and with much greater latitude than the natural law of the undershirt allows in its category.
First, however, because the foundation layer represents the only layer for which I routinely pay full retail for new merchandise, I must offer a final word on the tee. Love or hate Macklemore's Thrift Shop joint all you want, but wherever you stand, let no one object to his most trenchant observation: overpaying for luxury brand underwear is unspeakably lame. To wit, "Fifty dollars for a t-shirt? That's just some ignorant bitch sheeeiiiiit!"
Hear me when I tell you, The Dapper Tightwad confesses a love of the luxury brand where that luxury correlates strongly to excellence in materials, design and construction, but in this author's humble opinion, the t-shirts proffered by the likes of Gucci, Hermes, Ralph Lauren, Burberry and most recently Kanye (sigh) and their peers offer nothing on much humbler makers except a bigger hole in your wallet. Indeed, I submit to you, dear Dapster, that willingly overpaying for something like a white undershirt is an act of pornographic venality so base and disgusting that if you are tempted to do it, you should stop everything, take a deep breath and punch yourself right in the fucking face.
Good. With step one out of the way, take yourself to JCPenney and pick up a 3-pack of Stafford Performance t-shirts (about $22, but you can find them on sale often). Stafford Performance t-shirts are equal to--and in almost every case superior to--any more expensive t-shirt I have heretofore seen. They come in a great range of sizes, including the elusive Medium-Tall (try getting that kind of sweet fit in a Neiman Marcus). They are tagless, feature lay-flat knit collars, and are made from soft, heavyweight cotton that stands up to a great many washings, bleachings and dryings.
Now, take the money you saved and put it here. There may be hope for your soul.
Frugally yours,
TDT
First, however, because the foundation layer represents the only layer for which I routinely pay full retail for new merchandise, I must offer a final word on the tee. Love or hate Macklemore's Thrift Shop joint all you want, but wherever you stand, let no one object to his most trenchant observation: overpaying for luxury brand underwear is unspeakably lame. To wit, "Fifty dollars for a t-shirt? That's just some ignorant bitch sheeeiiiiit!"
Hear me when I tell you, The Dapper Tightwad confesses a love of the luxury brand where that luxury correlates strongly to excellence in materials, design and construction, but in this author's humble opinion, the t-shirts proffered by the likes of Gucci, Hermes, Ralph Lauren, Burberry and most recently Kanye (sigh) and their peers offer nothing on much humbler makers except a bigger hole in your wallet. Indeed, I submit to you, dear Dapster, that willingly overpaying for something like a white undershirt is an act of pornographic venality so base and disgusting that if you are tempted to do it, you should stop everything, take a deep breath and punch yourself right in the fucking face.
Good. With step one out of the way, take yourself to JCPenney and pick up a 3-pack of Stafford Performance t-shirts (about $22, but you can find them on sale often). Stafford Performance t-shirts are equal to--and in almost every case superior to--any more expensive t-shirt I have heretofore seen. They come in a great range of sizes, including the elusive Medium-Tall (try getting that kind of sweet fit in a Neiman Marcus). They are tagless, feature lay-flat knit collars, and are made from soft, heavyweight cotton that stands up to a great many washings, bleachings and dryings.
Now, take the money you saved and put it here. There may be hope for your soul.
Frugally yours,
TDT
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
The Dapper Tightwad Welcomes You!
Masculine Creatures of Modernity, I share with you two words:
Does your heart swell at their mention? Does your pulse quicken? I invite you to join me in the embrace of our common loves in an orgy of cheapskate haberdashery. Let us here and now celebrate our thrift-store triumphs, our hand-me-down treasures and our off-label fake-outs. Let us now make sense (or nonsense) of fashion dictates from on high and build from the picker's pile a democratic manifesto of sartorial hell-yes.
What can one say about style on the cheap that has not already been said? Nothing, but forgive me for saying whatever-it-is again, as today's style atrocities (all too common) and delightful wins (alas, not nearly so common) point to the need for re-circulation, reinforcement and revision of some basic guidelines and some modern critique.
Am I an authority? Yes. Yes, I am. You ask for my bona fides? I got your bona fides rightcheer, in my Swiss-made, mohair-and-wool navy windowpane suit, which I bought for $29.97 (more on that in a future post).
But before we can celebrate our triumphs, we must address the rot beneath our feet. Indeed, The Horrors I see around me compel me to begin by shoring up the foundation, and by foundation I mean underwear, people. And by underwear I mean the wearing of undershirts, the abandonment of which, more than the gewgaws and bullshittery currently festooning our national dresscode, threatens to topple the fashion pyramid we wish to build in filial solidarity.
I propose a rule! No, a mere proposal is insufficient.
I dictate a rule! No, a dictate suggests arbitrary dictatorship. I do not wish to dictate.
Rather, allow me to reveal a fundamental truth of the foundation garment. Yes, reveal. Take this as a revelation neither divine nor exclusive. Let its precision, purity and accuracy wash over us, and let all (in eureka moments, if this strikes them as news) hereinafter recognize, appreciate and obey the following natural law:
For the dapper, the undershirt is NOT optional.
If this is news to you, rejoice! You are now getting helpful information that may save you embarrassment, ridicule and failure. And for those who may be bristling at the notion that you may no longer wear a shirt without the t-shirt underneath, I offer the following words of solace:
1. There is considerable latitude in what kind of undershirt you choose. It may be any pure bright white, 100% cotton, crew-neck undershirt that you want.
2. There are many shirts under which a t-shirt is not required, chiefly shirts of the variety described in number 1 above.
3. In a great many of your favorite settings, this rule does not apply. You may safely ignore it in bed, the gym and while immersed in water, as in the shower, pool or ocean. And precisely nowhere else.
4. Your lovely dress shirts, your favorite polos, your summer casuals all will last much longer with the perspiration and deodorant barrier, and all who cross your path will thank you for the chest-hair barrier.
5. You will never have to pay extra for a color-dyed undershirt ever again, because you will never have to wear one again, particularly under any other shirt.
Spread the good word, fellows.
Frugally yours,
TDT
Style
and
Bargain.
Does your heart swell at their mention? Does your pulse quicken? I invite you to join me in the embrace of our common loves in an orgy of cheapskate haberdashery. Let us here and now celebrate our thrift-store triumphs, our hand-me-down treasures and our off-label fake-outs. Let us now make sense (or nonsense) of fashion dictates from on high and build from the picker's pile a democratic manifesto of sartorial hell-yes.
What can one say about style on the cheap that has not already been said? Nothing, but forgive me for saying whatever-it-is again, as today's style atrocities (all too common) and delightful wins (alas, not nearly so common) point to the need for re-circulation, reinforcement and revision of some basic guidelines and some modern critique.
Am I an authority? Yes. Yes, I am. You ask for my bona fides? I got your bona fides rightcheer, in my Swiss-made, mohair-and-wool navy windowpane suit, which I bought for $29.97 (more on that in a future post).
But before we can celebrate our triumphs, we must address the rot beneath our feet. Indeed, The Horrors I see around me compel me to begin by shoring up the foundation, and by foundation I mean underwear, people. And by underwear I mean the wearing of undershirts, the abandonment of which, more than the gewgaws and bullshittery currently festooning our national dresscode, threatens to topple the fashion pyramid we wish to build in filial solidarity.
I propose a rule! No, a mere proposal is insufficient.
I dictate a rule! No, a dictate suggests arbitrary dictatorship. I do not wish to dictate.
Rather, allow me to reveal a fundamental truth of the foundation garment. Yes, reveal. Take this as a revelation neither divine nor exclusive. Let its precision, purity and accuracy wash over us, and let all (in eureka moments, if this strikes them as news) hereinafter recognize, appreciate and obey the following natural law:
For the dapper, the undershirt is NOT optional.
If this is news to you, rejoice! You are now getting helpful information that may save you embarrassment, ridicule and failure. And for those who may be bristling at the notion that you may no longer wear a shirt without the t-shirt underneath, I offer the following words of solace:
1. There is considerable latitude in what kind of undershirt you choose. It may be any pure bright white, 100% cotton, crew-neck undershirt that you want.
2. There are many shirts under which a t-shirt is not required, chiefly shirts of the variety described in number 1 above.
3. In a great many of your favorite settings, this rule does not apply. You may safely ignore it in bed, the gym and while immersed in water, as in the shower, pool or ocean. And precisely nowhere else.
4. Your lovely dress shirts, your favorite polos, your summer casuals all will last much longer with the perspiration and deodorant barrier, and all who cross your path will thank you for the chest-hair barrier.
5. You will never have to pay extra for a color-dyed undershirt ever again, because you will never have to wear one again, particularly under any other shirt.
Spread the good word, fellows.
Frugally yours,
TDT
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)