On wardrobe malfunctions

A few years back, I went to my first lawyer event at the Homestead requiring a tuxedo, and so I waited until I was there to try to figure out how to wear it. One item I couldn't cipher was the relationship between the tips of the collar and the tie - under or over, in front or behind. So, whenever I passed a mirror, I looked to see if something was amiss, and generally, the collar was pointed straight up, in the manner of James K. Polk.



Earlier this month, I got up on the morning of my meeting in downtown Richmond, looked around and found that I had packed the business suit, the black socks and shoes, the necktie, and no shirt. So, I borrowed one from the father-in-law, whose neck is about two inches bigger around and his arms are an inch or two longer. It was sort of the David Byrne/Stop Making Sense look in a shirt. Anyhow, none of my friends at the meeting said mentioned it to me, which I figured was about 25% politeness and 75% prior knowledge of my less than splendid sartorial attainment.