Clothes

Clothes: (n) items worn to cover the body.

“The clothes make the man.” Unless she’s a woman.

Why do the clothes make anything?

Here’s the truth:  clothes look very good on people who would look very good without them.

If you do not look very good without clothes, draping cloth over you does not do a lot to jazz your appearance.

It can communicate wealth. I suppose it can pass along the image of style. But if you look fairly rotund without clothing, clothing is like putting drapes on a wide window.

People who are slender can put on a suit and look very proficient and businesslike. People who are portly always have to worry about whether they should unbutton the coat when they sit, for fear of launching a button.

Women who are lean can wear a dress and make it look pretty much look like the hanger it was hung upon, while women who are more “Greek” in their shape can take a perfectly lovely dress and make it appear very broad at the beam.

We are happy to wear clothes simply because they hide a multitude of fleshly sins. Yet there is no outfit that can completely disguise what lies within.

I’ve spent a lot of money on clothes and I’ve spent a little money on clothes–and at the end, the tally was, “what you see is basically what you get.”

 

 

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Button

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Button: (n) a small disk sewn onto a garment for closure

When I was younger, I asked my wife to sew me a pair of pants.

I did so because the slacks that were able to cover my blubbery frame were ugly and made me look like I was always on my way to a construction site.

So she bought the cloth and laid out the pattern so I could have a pair of bell-bottom trousers. She was ready to put a zipper in when I stopped her.

I said, “No. I want buttons on the front.”

She gave me a little frown, but then she smiled, apparently catching a vision for my cavalier choice.

I put on the pants. They were kind of tight. But I was able to button them up and I headed off to a local coffeehouse where I planned on doing some singing.

Before I went over to the piano, I decided to perch on a stool to chat with the audience. When I did so, two of the buttons on my pants popped off with such ferocity that they flew into the audience, striking a couple of unsuspecting maidens, causing them to shriek.

I’ve always been proud of the fact that I possess a good comeback for almost every situation.

But on this occasion, I did not know what to communicate about my flying buttons.

 

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