The day has been fruitful, which is a pleasant change from my usual routine of "wake/sleep/eat/sleep". My professional attire has doubled with the addition of two new dress shirts from Express. While I've made it quite clear how I feel about the brand (producing skank and douchebag uniforms for ladies and gents, respectively), I do feel that I must address their shirting. Now, it isn't perfect. The sides don't fit me as well as some shirts that I've tried on, and the fabric certainly isn't the finest around. But let's be pragmatic here. $20 for a French cuff dress shirt? To deny the fact that this is a deal would be snooty and unreasonable, considering my income and my circumstances. Thankfully, my zeal for mixing the high with the low (the Brits still do it better than anyone else) supercedes any disdain I have for the retailer.
The first shirt I saw had a spread collar, the proportions of which suited my too-lanky frame perfectly, disguising my neck's tendency to resemble an ostrich's leg. I also liked the faint red and blue striping, which was subtle enough so that I could use one of my ties at home.
Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I've been pining away for one of A.P.C.'s famed removable contrast collar shirts, as their construction, proportion, and colors are positively sublime. For a whole lot less, I've managed to find a contrast point color with thin black striping.
But the more productive portion of the day was spent during my last few hours out. Angela had wanted to do a podcast, but I don't think either of us were really sure what a joint one would be like. So we just settled for some apple ciders (and a caramel macchiato for me) and seized the back corner of Starbucks. Not the most dramatic or artistic venue, given the abundance of corporate schlock all around us, but it worked out just fine. I don't remember everything we talked about, but I remember it was good.