Ron's Blog

We were sitting in an airport, waiting to board a plane to Spain. It would be our last big family trip before our kids went to college, got married, and had children. We had never really traveled that much but wanted to experience a few foreign cultures together as a family. So, as we sat there anticipating a fun trip, my daughter points to a man walking down the airport concourse, and says, “Dad, he dresses just like you.”

Now let me be clear about one thing. I have never been a fashionista. In fact, at no time during my somewhat long life, has anyone ever used the word “fashionable” to refer to any part of an ensemble I was wearing. But the guy at the airport looked like a cross between a nerd, a dork, and a dweeb. In that moment, I recognized that I had underestimated the visual impact of my attire. It was a humbling experience that led me to forever wonder about my clothing choices.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. I was in my doctor’s office for a routine appointment when I began to notice the wide variety of apparel displayed by the other patients in the waiting room. I then looked down and scanned my own clothes. It was clear to me that I didn’t really have a “look.” Instead, I seem to represent an eclectic, mismatched, hodgepodge of fashion choices that may actually reflect who I am better than I thought. And as if touched by the ghost of Pierre Cardin, the clarity of knowing that released me from any pressure I might feel about keeping up with the Kardashians.

So, I’d like to share my insights with you in the hopes that my discovery will assist you with your own clothing (and life) choices. But mostly, my goal for this blog is to provide you with a simple, fun distraction from the multiple sources of stress in our world today and to give you a momentary break from that stress—much like a bowl of ice cream will give you a brief reprieve from the burden of broccoli and tofu.

Let’s start at the bottom with my FOOTWEAR. On that day in the medical clinic, I was wearing Merrell hiking shoes. One might assume that by making such a choice, I was advertising myself as an avid hiker. That would be a false assumption. I’m a walker, not a hiker. The main difference between the two is how much effort one puts into the activity. A hike, while totally enjoyable, usually involves effort and sweating while avoiding poison ivy and snakes. A walk, on the other hand, is calmer and can be interrupted at any time by a cab or an Uber—should one need to cut it short. Therefore, more accurately, I was wearing Merrell walking shoes. But the most important reason I was wearing these shoes is that they’re comfortably practical. The heavy soles endure more strain, the tops last longer, and while they may not turn any heads, they’re not giving me corns or bunions. Never underestimate the value of comfortably practical.

The SOCKS I was wearing were a gag gift from my sister-in-law. They said, “Woke up sexier than hell again.” I don’t know if anyone could see the writing on my socks but I knew what they said. And that just makes me laugh. It reminds me of a pair I used to own that had “left” and “right” written all over each sock, respectively. I would purposely put them on the wrong feet because, later in the day, I would be in a meeting when someone would notice my socks and whisper, “They’re are on the wrong feet.” I would nod, wink, and say, “I know.” I’m a simple man and must admit that I get great satisfaction from pranking people with my socks.

My PANTS that day were my favorite type of trousers: faded jeans. I wore jeans throughout my childhood, except when the occasional pair of plaid, bell bottom slacks was in order (I refer you back to my dearth of fashion sense). As for what my jeans might say about me, I suspect they represent a combination of comfort, farm life, and hippie culture. Since I’ve never been a farmer or a hippie, I can only live vicariously through them. To me, farmers represent a diligent work ethic that is full of integrity while hippies represent freedom and love. No one could argue with a pair of pants that promote hard-work, footloose integrity, and love. But mostly, my jeans have always just been soothing—like comfort food. They’re like the macaroni and cheese of fashion.

The SHIRT I wore was a golf pullover. I make no claims of being a good or even regular golfer. I always imagined that when I retired, I would be on the course several times each week. Now that I am retired, however, I don’t have an inclination to play that much. I’m perfectly happy with an occasional round where I constantly wonder why I’m not any better. Perhaps there is a relationship between frequency and proficiency. Who knew? In my case, the golf shirt represents what many of us occasional golfers think. We look like someone who hits the links regularly but in reality, we’re just regularly hitting someone when we’re on the links. It’s a small but important distinction.

My JACKET was a Carhartt. I got it as a gift just before I realized that Carhartt is the go-to attire for many people in my neck of the, well, literally the woods. It combines quality with rural and rugged. I think that defines me perfectly (I should have typed that in a sarcastic font). But, due to my Appalachian upbringing, this brand does feel more congruent than, say, Calvin Klein or Tommy Hilfiger. Besides, I’ve never looked good with nothing between me and my Calvins.

Lastly, I was wearing my Harley Davidson ball CAP. I rode Harleys for a dozen years and I miss traversing country roads while feeling the wind and the bugs in my face. I used to joke that with all of my motorcycle leathers on, I looked like a badass while underneath, I was just a wuss enjoying the charade. I also fantasize about being in a motorcycle bar and getting into a fight. Of course, if I really did, I would probably be more concerned about spilling my Sea Breeze than winning the brawl. Clearly, I have embraced my wuss persona.

So, why would I spend so much time focusing on my clothes? Well, because I have nothing better to do AND because I believe that it speaks to a bigger issue that we encounter throughout our lives. We get so much pressure to act a certain way, speak a certain way, and dress a certain way. The world is full of people who tell us that who we are is not enough and that we should strive to be smarter, richer, or more successful. I think that is a disservice.

My clothes represent the multifaceted person that I am. I’ve never been the best at anything yet I’ve tried my hand at many things. I’ve been a cemetery caretaker, a steamroller driver, a bellhop, a fast food cook, a social worker, an EMT, a firefighter, a tennis player, a band kid, and many other things throughout my life. I suspect this weird combination of experiences and opportunities makes me unique even though I’m not unique in any one particular area.

The old saying that “clothes make the man” might be a bit misguided. Perhaps the truth is that the man (or woman) makes the clothes. While my goal has never been to be a nerdy, geeky, dweeb, perhaps that is an OK part of who I am, along with many other qualities. And ultimately that’s what my clothes, my behavior, and my words represent.

Who we are is who we are. There’s really no need to dress it up any more than that.