Having a Spat with My Closet

I have excellent taste, evidence to the contrary notwithstanding

The change of seasons means stowing away the sweaters and taking out the spring and summer garments - the sartorial equivalent of putting away the snowblower, an act that tempts the Gods if done too soon. So I wait for my wife to ask “when are you going to mow the lawn?” before I put away the arctic garb.

Getting out the spring clothes is an excellent opportunity to winnow all those items you could group under the label “Bored, 9 PM, on Amazon” and have since come to loath. Make some space in the closet, in the rack and the drawers. (Sounds like a good English pub for tailors: The Rack and Drawers.)

I found one short-sleeved short with a black-and-white checked pattern that did not, as they say, spark joy. It sparked irritation with the disordered mind that thought this was a good purchase. The pattern doesn’t look good on me. It doesn’t look good on anyone. If you attempted to enter a high-class men’s wear store wearing this shirt, the silent psychic disapproval of the clerks would expel you like a peach-pit bouncing against a plate-glass window. What was I thinking? Did I not know that busy little black-and-white patterns on a short man make me look like a scrambled TV signal?

Dump that in the giveaway sack. More discoveries:

A T-shirt I really liked had an inexplicable patch of melted black substance, indicating I had fallen asleep in a room where men were vulcanizing tires. Toss.

A T-shirt from Daughter intended to be worn only at Christmas, referencing a brilliant animated show about a depressed and alcoholic horse: I’ll be buried in that one (note: do not bury me in that one.) Save.

Enough white shirts to suggest I have just taken a job on Madison Avenue in 1963. The collar styles have come in an out of style over the last few years. If I throw one out, its style will immediately come back.

That one pair of socks that goes well with that one pair of olive green pants, but lost its elastic snap and puddles around your ankles if you do something ridiculous, like walk. Out they go, unless they’re bringing back spats anytime soon. Better check google. Hey, spats are trending. Oh, turns out Harry and Meghan were seen from 200 yards away gesturing and frowning a bit. Not that kind of spat. Google again . . . hmm. AI reply:

“While not a widespread, mainstream fashion comeback, spats are making a return in a niche way.”

In other words, no, they’re not coming back. Six guys in Brooklyn with performative mustaches who ride unicycles and have an online business selling bespoke mucilage are wearing them. Out they go.

A favorite t-shirt from college that is about three microns thin. If I wore it, the fabric would dissolve after a few minutes. So obviously I have to pick the right occasion.

Fat pants, from an era where I gained a bit and blamed the tight waistline on inconsistent manufacturing and labeling instead of a morning bowlful of Lucky Charms. There’s one pair that had my fighting weight, but it was a “loose cut” style with “accommodating” waistband for your “indolent, potato-sack physique,” which meant a spandex waistband. Useful if I ever intend to take up the trencherman’s life and need to feel comfy after a brace of quail, sixteen oysters, and a porterhouse steak, but no. Out they go.

Six shirts I haven’t worn in years. I love the colors, and no one makes these colors anymore. They have matching ties. It’s a sharp look. Why did I stop dressing like this? Because people stopped going to the office and I felt like a peacock in an empty warehouse, that’s why. Keep.

Cargo shorts. How do I still have cargo shorts in 2025? They were a remnant of being a stay-at-home dad, and packing all sorts of necessary items for trips to the store or the playground, but I’m pretty sure I ditched them when they became the object of ridicule. Or rather when I became the object of ridicule - no one ever said “look at that smart, stylish, handsome fellow, obviously forced against his will to wear egregious shorts by force or circumstance.” You’d be more stylish wearing a barrel.

Which, I’m sure, is not a widespread, mainstream fashion comeback, but barrels are making a return in a niche way. Goes well with spats.