I'm still completely enthralled with the thoughts of of Kennedy Fraser, who was the fashion reporter for The New Yorker for three decades.
For example, this distinction from her book, "The Fashionable Mind": "Taste concerns itself with broad, lifetime progress, and never makes mistakes; style moves by fits and starts and is occasionally glorious...Elegance is static and hermetic, and its moments of its attainment in a life of style are like so many cathedrals along the route of a comprehensive cultural tour."
Ms. Fraser obviously never saw me on Saturday.
I've always had trouble with the concept of a weekend wardrobe. I generally end up looking like I forgot to turn on the closet light when I was picking out the stuff. Or decided to put on whatever was hanging on a chair.
There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who look great on Saturdays, and those who look great on Monday mornings. I used to consider myself a Monday morning type, but lately I've sort of drifted into a late Wednesday afternoon.
The other afternoon at a cafe in Oakland I noticed a Saturday guy with his girlfriend, and she was a late Wednesday afternoon type like me. He looked almost too-GQ perfect, the male ideal of all those women who take their boyfriends to buy clothes at Banana Republic. Who would want him!
There's hope for my weekend image. Ms. Fraser says, "stylish people, even if they have to force themselves, are determined to see the world in childishly bright colors." I see things that way most of the time. I just don't look it.
Truthfully, it's just not the same when you go to Banana Republic on your own. Maybe if I took off my RayBans....