Shirtless in shorts, Hollywood scriptwriter William Faulkner basks in the California sun. Wearing sunglasses and legs crossed, he is the very picture of ease in this photo. But Faulkner is still Faulkner. His pipe juts from his mouth, his wrinkled socks are halfway up his calf, and a typewriter sets on a small table in front of him.
I stood in Nalli in Chennai asking a group of employees if they had any “madras cloth.” Nalli is perhaps the largest retailer of textiles in India, and since the cloth I asked for is named for the very city I was in—Chennai is the modern name for old Madras—surely I had come to the right place.
One might expect the author of nearly one hundred books over a seventy-five year career to produce checkout-line boilerplate. But despite his own self-description as “a writing machine,” P.G. Wodehouse earned the name “The Master” from none other than Evelyn Waugh. Decades later Douglas Adams said, “I aspire to write like P.G. Wodehouse,” a wish one can easily detect in Adams’s work.
When anyone hears “polo” in connection with clothing, he will almost certainly think of either the ubiquitous polo player logo (and the brand that goes with it) or the common “polo shirt,” vanguard of the bus-cas assault on elegance. But beyond a brand name, classic men’s clothing owes a great deal to the game of polo.
Some purchases flavor one’s wardrobe distinctively, though their proportions are small. Ties, pocket squares, and other well chosen accessories can give subtle nod to season or occasion, and change entirely the tenor of an ensemble. Or even the baritone.
Long associated with college campuses, the English countryside, and teddy bears in overalls, corduroy is a quintessential autumn fabric. Normally made of cotton, corduroy has ridges, or wales, running vertically down the cloth giving it great textural interest.