Mr. Fussy clearly addresses transparent clothes
Of course Mr. Fussy reads FB, Fashion Boston, a glossy handout that features a question-and-answer column by Lisa Pierpont. Ms. Pierpont is a self-described "snappy dresser" and founder of a website called boldfacers.com, an Internet venue where Mr. Fussy's name is quite unlikely to appear.
Here is a question recently posed by "J.M.", of Needham:
"My personal shopper just told me that transparent clothes are about to get really big. Am I really supposed to wear that?"
Engulfed by Fashion Terror, Mr. F. did not record Ms. Pierpont's judicious reply. Transparent clothes? The next thing! How could it be? Aren't clothes the ever-useful curtains we draw across our bodies, hoping that no one will ever peek behind? Heaven forbid we should conduct business and socialize . . . transparently.
For Mr. Fussy, fashion will always be the Eternal Mystery. Like sex, only more so. For decades, Mr. Fussy dressed like an abject slob - "I like the homeless look," a colleague once remarked - until Mr. F. realized that he was being judged on his apparel. And found wanting. "You don't write well enough to dress that badly," a boss once told him. So Mr. Fussy has been making what passes for an effort, in his sheltered world.
Women look in their closet and what do they see? Nothing, just a reason to head for the mall. Mr. Fussy looks in his closet, and what does he see? An impressionistic trunk show of a life half lived, a muddy self-portrait of a man recoiling from fashion's embrace.
What's in there? Mr. Fussy owns a collared white shirt monogrammed with the words "High on Stress," a phrase he spotted in the movie "Revenge of the Nerds." He owns enough fleece to fill a prep school reunion tent at the Head of the Charles crew races. Mr. Fussy also possesses two lovely, tailored suits, purchased back when you could get a good tailored suit for $500.
Over in the chest of drawers there is a T-shirt that proclaims "Harvard - the Stanford of the East," an aphorism sometimes ascribed to Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill, the former speaker of the House of Representatives. In more questionable taste, there is also a shirt portraying Johnny Damon in the center of a Last Supper tableau, surrounded by his 2004 Red Sox teammates. "We're Saved!" the shirt declares. Mr. F. also owns a very expensive, 70 percent bamboo, 30 percent organic cotton, T-shirt from jonäno, fair trade purveyors of "luxurious eco-fashion" and of "ecoKashmere."
This shirt has never been worn. Who would defile this perfect garment, by rubbing it against his body? And who has the time to parse the "proper care" instructions, which naturally include line drying?
What? No trashion? Trashion is a portmanteau word combining "fashion" and "trash." Here is an example: a $28 dog collar made from a "repurposed" silk necktie. That would be trashion for the dog. For the human in your family, there are bracelets made from recycled auto parts, and necklaces made from recycled library cards. As you can imagine, there is considerable overlap between the glamorous worlds of trashion and freecycling, which involve picking up other people's trash.
What to wear? It's enough to drive you fashion crazy. Mr. Fussy's favorite guide to the vagaries of the cultural moment, The
Only recently has Mr. Fussy learned about "shapewear," a neologism behind which, he suspects, lurks the word "girdle." But shapewear is a less constricting word, redolent of "discomfort," which has supplanted "pain" in the modern lexicon. And "pressure." Dentists love to say, "You might feel a little pressure."
But Mr. Fussy has lost the thread. Shapewear has proven quite popular for women, and now men are squeezing their swollen waists into what no one wants to call male girdles or "mirdles." (Perhaps they should use the actual word: truss.) Los Angeles designer Andrew Christian has introduced the Flashback Butt Lifting Technology Boxer, which promises "the perfect bubble butt." Coming soon: the "Waist Eliminator" from Go Softwear, featuring an elastic waistband that reaches up to the mid-torso.
But will it be transparent? Mr. Fussy hopes so, for fashion's sake.
Alex Beam is a Globe columnist. His e-dress is beam@globe.com.
