Stacey and Clinton Would Beat Me Down!

I will fully admit that I’m not the most fashionable guy in the world.

I won’t pay $100 for a pair of jeans, and I don’t have a running tab at the dry cleaners for my cashmere. In fact, a large majority of my clothing comes right off the shelf at your nearest Mart-Mart or Penney’s store. Why, the most expensive piece of clothing I own is my leather Disneyland jacket, which I think was about $200.00. After that, who knows?

But for the most part I can generally dress myself and still be able to be seen without being publicly humiliated and/or mocked for my crappy attire.

But not today.

You see, today I am unfortunately saddled in the following attire:

* Orange short sleeve shirt
* Black pants
* Brown socks & shoes.

Ick. Add a pair of pink socks and a green tie, and I could star in the center ring for Ringling Brothers.

I have a good excuse, though. It was dark this morning at 4:30 when I grabbed my clothes out of the closet. I grabbed my pants, put my shirt over them on the hanger, then threw my shoes into my gym bag. Off I went to exercise, destined to not return home until after work this evening.

Only thing is – I thought I had my brown pants, not the black ones. (Remember - it was dark out, and I was still mostly asleep, despite my ability to stand up.)

So there I was at the gym, chatting it up with Naked Klaus, about to get dressed. I’d completed my cardio for an hour, I’d squeaked out a victory over the Lovely Mrs. G. in “PIGGY”, and I’d stood for 10 minutes in a mostly cold shower, trying to cool down. Now, it was time to get dressed.

I took my shirt off the hanger, and that’s when I realized my tremendously tragic trouser faux pas. SHIT!

I didn’t have any other clothes with me (except for my exceptionally sweaty gym clothes and my swimsuit), so I really didn’t have any other choice. I had to wear the orange/black/brown combination.

Somewhere out there Calvin Klein is having a stroke about now...

It’s doubly bad, because unless it’s October 31, I purposely avoid wearing the orange shirt/black pants combination anyway. It’s perfect for Tricks and Treats, but on an everyday basis? It’s just bad. (Plus, people keep trying to open my lid, looking for a mini Snickers bar.)

So I’m doing the only three things I really can at times like this:

1) I’m laying low, hoping nobody notices and/or makes gagging noises.

2) I’m sending apology letters to Tommy Hilfiger, Georgio Armani, Beau Brummel, and the fashion dude from “Queer Eye” as soon as I finish this post.

3) I’m hereby vowing to pay better attention when hitting up the closet oh so early in the morning.

Still, some might think I’m actually a trendsetter. I mean, I’ve seen some of the dumb things guys have worn on runways, all in the name of fashion. Can I possibly be that far off from being The Next Big Thing?

Why, yes. Yes I could.