A Thousand Men in Suits

This morning, my father and I are headed to Joseph A. Banks to exchange the sportcoat we gave him for Christmas. His arms are too long and his tummy is a wee bit too big for the one we got him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I shared that info. And, if he does, then maybe it will encourage him to work on that belly of his. Love ya, Dad!

Anyway, the impending trip reminded me of a diary entry I posted in 2001. Again, it is sharing too much information about me, perhaps, but I think you all know how much I love to do that...


A Thousand Men in Suits
September 18, 2001

I discovered last weekend that I am extremely turned-on by men's clothing stores.

Yes, you read that correctly.

On Saturday, The Boyfriend and I went to K&G to find him a new suit (as he is a very important money-handling/business-y guy and must be dressed as such). At first, I was less-than-thrilled with the idea of spending my sunny Saturday afternoon doing this as it was an activity that had nothing to do with me and would not ultimately be beneficial to me (or so I originally thought). But, because I am learning that relationships require a bit of compromise and that it can't always be about me -- yes, I know, I was shocked by this revelation as well -- I agreed to go with The Boyfriend to buy his suit.

And, oh honey, am I glad I did.

A bit of background: For as long as I can remember, my all-time favorite "guy look" has been that of a suit and tie. Some women go for the fireman, or the full-dress Naval uniform, or the long, white doctor's lab coat. But I just can't control myself around a well-tailored suit, crispy button-up shirt and tie -- oh, baby, do I love ties. From the cuff links to the shiny shoes to the little, silk hanky that peeks out of the breast pocket -- I love everything about that look. Think Agent Mulder while on official FBI business or Rob Lowe strolling confidently through "The West Wing." Even as I young girl, I preferred the blonde Simon brother (A.J.) over the dark-haired Simon brother (Rick) because A.J. always wore suites.

And, drum roll please...The Ultimate Sexy Guy Look...suit jacket removed, shirt-sleeves rolled up, top button undone, and tie slightly loosened in that Darren Stephens "I'm home, honey" kind of way.

Oh. My.

So, I entered this massive warehouse-like building and was immediately awash with the strongest sense of male-ness I have ever felt. Okay, so I have felt strong male-ness before but never has it been this strong without the benefit of any physical contact whatsoever. The strong male-ness was an aura, a sensation -- it was an overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by thousands of men in suits.

I had laid my hands on the most beautiful Calvin Klein suit that I then handed over to The Boyfriend to try on. He looked amazing in it, if I do say so myself. So, while The Boyfriend consulted with the tailor, I wandered through the isles of neatly hung suits, pausing occasionally to pull one off the rack and hold it up in lustful amazement. I was in a daze, lightly running my hand over sweaters and shirts, picking up silky ties and letting them slip through my fingers. By the time I made it to the boxers section, I was a bit light-headed.

I told The Boyfriend what the store was doing to me. I wasn't quite sure how to read his response at first, but later he did promise to "model" his new suit for me. Oh, baby.

But, then we left the store and went to Kroger -- which quickly brought me down off of my men's clothing store high. There's just nothing sexy about Kroger.