About that tux

WHILE IT makes juicy copy to trash the so-called tuxedo culture at Harvard, your report contains misleading generalizations about formal wear. Generations of Harvardians in the know - rich, poor, and everything in between - have bought their tuxedos at the legendary Keezer's in Cambridge, where piecing together a cheap but elegant used ensemble has been practically a rite of passage. Thirty years ago, I accompanied my husband and his brother to pick over cummerbunds, skinny pants with satin stripes, jackets of every imaginable lapel width, and glittering bargain cufflinks worthy of any would-be Gatsby. Thirty years before, their father, a poster boy for Yankee thrift if ever there was one, did the same.