Quote:
Originally posted by Atticus Grinch
Okay, I can understand y'all hating on the tartans, but don't be a madras-hata. I used to wear a button-down madras shortsleeve over my Vuarnet logo t-shirt with my cool Tom Cruise Ray-Bans and my black checkered Vans. My hair was well-moussed, and I stayed in my room masturbating furiously to magazine pics of Belinda Carlisle (solo, not-a-fat period). Good times, good times.
A further, better defense of madras: The full-on DORKIEST prof at my college (at least, in Arts & Sciences; can't speak for Engineering or LS) was a sweet nerdy little guy --- he wrote mystery novels in which the protagonist used elementary principles of his field to solve murders, for chrissake --- who had a heart of gold. But he also had two redeeming qualities. One, he was an avowed Christian teetotaler who nevertheless made a rather public exception for Pilsner Urquell, because it was so damn good. That's gangsta. Two, he had this kick-ass Gainsborough chair in his living room (on-campus historic house, living rooms visible to all and occasionally open for tours; federal period furniture required) that he had reupholstered in madras. It was way fucking cool --- a tiny glimpse of rebellion in an otherwise straight arrow type. I aspire to that. Sebby can have the "I'm an iconoclast all the time" schtick. Me, I'm more about piously painting the icons, but burying a little flash of nip in the portrait for the careful observer to find. Madras is right up that alley.
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Actually, I have no problem at all with madras. The plaid pants I speak of are not the Rodney Caddyshack variety, but the very seriously worn green and red Xmas plaids that find their way into Biff's closet every November.
I had a madras blazer, and I wore it all the time. Then I spilled something really dark on it.
I also do the seersucker like a motherfucker. And you get killer commentary. My favorite is "You can't wear that in court." I still don't know why people think that. It IS a suit.
But I do not do the heavy plaids. Its just too absurd. "I'd be waiting for somebody to come around the corner and give me the 'Hey, Neidermeyer... gimme the secret handshake' or 'Carter? Is that you? It's me... Chucky Fetherlong, how are you old boy!'".
