On weddings and tuxedos…
Last Saturday, I got fitted for a tux for the first time since I was in high school. I love tuxes, I honestly wish I could concoct excuses to wear them more often, but alas, I’m not made of money and, as a result, my reasons to wear them are few. However, this is as good a reason as any: I’m one of the groomsmen in my roommate’s wedding next month.
My history with tuxedos dates back to early childhood: My sister and I got tasked with being the ring bearer and flower girl for my cousin Aaron’s wedding… Wait… scratch that and reverse it, I would’ve made a terrible flower girl… Anyway, at the age of… well… something elementary level that I couldn’t really remember if I tried (I got a G.I. Joe vehicle as a thank you, I can remember that much…). I THINK the bowtie was teal, though my mother probably has pictures somewhere to prove otherwise, and I wore it with a cumberbun. At that young age, I could tell you two things.
1) I love tuxes
2) I hate cumberbuns
Tuxes, in my mind, were just plain awesome. It doesn’t really matter what you’re doing, if you’re doing it in a tux, you were cool (this mindset is kind of paradoxical, however, because in high school I never understood the people who went bowling wearing a tux…). It would be a long time before I ever wore one again, because it wasn’t until Freshman year of high school that I got to do it again. It was a fairly simple setup, basic black tux, teal patterned vest and bowtie with a teal pocket square.
During high school, this was the only “classic” tux I ever wore.
My sophomore year, I had no tie, the collar stuck up like a clergy collar, and I had a dark navy vest with black tux. I got “reverend” comments all night, which admittedly got annoying after a while. I made a mental note to never wear that type of collar again.
Junior year was still tie-less, but instead of the clergy collar it had an oddly fascinating buttoned-down collar that just sort of laid flat against the collar bone. Silver vest, silver pocket square.
And then came senior year.
Senior year was my favorite out of the tuxes I rented, there was nothing classic about it. It was the “Zoot suit” tux. Long black jacket, silver pocket chain, silver vest, black tie, and a black fedora with a white band. If there was ever a tux I was tempted to keep, that was the one. I looked like something out of a 1930s mafia movie.
I don’t think I ever went to the school events for the social aspect (if you knew me in high school, I wasn’t particularly sociable). I think I mostly went because I got to play dress-up. I got the ability to feel “cool” because I was wearing something that I generally wouldn’t have been, and the tuxedo’s always been something of a status symbol for guys. Think about it. James Bond? Tux. Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca? Tux. Daddy Warbucks in Annie? Tux. There’s always been something of a distinct masculine elegance surrounding tuxedos.
And now, next month, for the first time since senior year, I get to don one again. Only this time, it’s not for a school social function. My roommate, who over the last two years has become like the little brother I never had, is getting married, and I get to stand up there with a front-row seat. Well, okay, not seat, more of a standing position. I think it’s my duty to backhand Randy if he loses the ring.
I’ve noticed something about roommates. The bad ones, you can’t seem to get rid of fast enough, and the good ones always seem to get married. I think there’s a correlation there, the good ones tend to be responsible, and tend to attract mates because they’re stable, whereas the bad ones tend to be more free-spirited (a.k.a. broke) and leave a considerable amount of worry in any potential mate’s mind that they might ruin their lives. Not to say this is always the case (I’ve known plenty of irresponsible people who have wound up married and, as a result, lived unhappily ever after when they figured out that “love will see us through” should’ve been “love and a stable budget will see us through”…).
Anyway, back to my roommate’s pending marriage. Brennan and I have been friends since we worked together at Christian Supply. He was one of my best employees, easy to talk to and joke around with (there are a couple of inside jokes regarding golf balls that I’ll refuse to explain but mention regardless), and through that we became good enough friends that, when he decided to move out on his own, and I happened to be in need of a roommate, we decided it could work.I’ve watched him grow quite a bit in the last two years, and our friendship has become fairly close. I’m honored to be in his wedding (unless you count my appearance as ring bearer, it’ll be my first time… At the very least, it’s the first time in my adult life). I know he and Leann will be happy in their married life, there are few couples I know of who seem more perfect for each other, and I do believe they’ll do well together.
Well, enough of my prattling on. I’m starting to feel like a grandfather, telling his kids about how things were in the olden days (and, to be honest, I’ll be kind of glad once my birthday is here so I can formally take a break from trying to recollect the stories on a daily basis… I might do it once a month going forward, though…).
Until tomorrow…
“and broke”
too funny!