Showing posts from September, 2011

social etiquette

You know, kids, I had thought there were certain things that we could all just leave unsaid. I had believed that Charla would raise you all well enough in my stead (obviously not as well as I would have myself, but some things simply must be sacrificed. Mummy had to work! It was tennis season, after all. And for what we're paying her - nevermind. It's no one's fault. No one's but Charla's.). I had wrongly dreamed and hoped that our tacit understandings and silent disapproval would be enough to guide you all safely through the horrors of the world outside and into the gentle waters of polite society.

I was wrong.

As your Classics professor (why are you majoring in Philosophy again, darling? We're not that family,  cookie, we're simply not. I wouldn't let your sister play the oboe and I won't let you major in Philosophy), Dean, and several rather overexpressive advisors have explained to me in excruciating detail, you simply have no idea how to behave…

anchored's aweigh

Once again, Coda and I have fallen madly in love - and it's serious. This time, we're wild over the up-and-coming line from Anchored Style, a nautical-prep design line out of the Sunshine State.

Now, keep in mind, kids, that this is the first time Coda and I are endorsing a non-Baltimorean brand; 'tis a rare honor, indeed, but one that we stand behind.

As you may or may not have guessed, C and I spend most of our time drinking very strong liquors on very expensive boats. Further, we share a definite affinity for that most genteel of sartorial pursuits: the post-sail prep style, from which Anchored draws its major inspiration.

Peruse the site now; the brand's still evolving, but you can get in on the ground floor with a salt wash hat and then shake your head at all the suckers still fading their Mount Gays on their own. Play some Jimmy Buffett, stick a coozie on your Red Stripe, and luxuriate in the knowledge that although the best boats are someone else's, the bes…