I do not own a suit. I own three formal jackets, which I normally wear with jeans. It’s the closest to a compromise I get; playing with the big boys who earn big bucks, sitting in leather chairs driving big cars. Every time I meet them I wonder whether they got into their chairs through perseverance, luck, connections or actual brilliance. Anyway, my jacket and jeans protects me, underplays me.
To be clear, suits are silly, as are ties. But it is an evil that exist, a symbol that endures- and so every man has to at some stage square up to a suit. If you are not up to it, rather stay away from suits than exposing yourself. Its all a paradox and compromise- I hate it, I love it. One day I will probably buy a suit. But only after I complete a Doctorate or write a book, only after I produce stuff that people call brilliant. Suits are not for humility, but about power. And power should embody both intellect and integrity.
Most clowns wear suits to try and get to the top. Nothing as bad as a man that cannot wear a suit- the material and design outclasses them, they look silly and wannabe. The opposite is a too modern, too tailored suit that looks fashionable instead of classy. As for the suits worn by older men, they paint pictures of tragic men hiding flabby bellies under expensive clothes. They fail to inspire. Few men wears suits with class without giving the idea that they cheated their way to the top. Mostly I associate suits with theft, legal and subtle, but still theft- oblivious of the poor.
So, my time for wearing a suit might come. When I’m older and smarter. When it suits me.

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