I think well-cut white suits are my kryptonite. Especially if worn by someone playing The Prettiest Star or This Will Be Our Year for me on a white baby grand. I love the subversive decadence of louche men with shaggy beards and long hair wearing pristine, narrowly cut white dinner jackets. A white suit states an intention to be entirely impractical and a willingness to get very messy. They make me think of doubtful Graham Greene heroes sweating in the tropics, or Sebastian Flyte spiralling ever-downwards in Morocco. White suits don't denote innocence or purity, but the total opposite. Wearers attract trouble. Sweat, dirt and bloodstains are bound to sully an expensive white suit.
Monday, June 28, 2010
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