Once I bought four casual shirts all the same dark green. Having four absolved me from further shirt buying for five, possibly ten, years. Mrs BB was outraged, talked about variety. Our sartorial views are incompatible.
Fifteen years ago I decided I would only buy chinos. Seemed a sensible decision, allowed me to forget about trousers for ever but didn’t carry the finality I required. Chinos (trousers made of cotton twill fabric, usu. khaki-coloured) vary widely. Some come in thin, slippery, synthetic material that seems to flow over my legs like well-diluted paint. Others in something more like sailcloth, capable of stopping a .22 bullet. Others like waterproof pyjamas.
And there’s the colour. Khaki is not standard. My ideal is pale beige but I’m especially put off by diarrhoea (in all its forms). M&S’s Blue Harbour range was perfect until some fidgety designer got out his colour charts. Hereford is not the chino centre of the world; online sources lie about the details and colours are not dependable. And if I found perfection how many pairs dare I buy? I might get fatter (Am getting fatter!) or thinner.
But believe me my legs need covering.
DON GIOVANNI From the Met in HD at Hereford’s Courtyard theatre. Stodgy, slow first act, too many close-ups (even in duets!). Dull, dark set: one side of three-storey building which NYT said resembled an advent calendar. Superb voices made it all the more irritating. Don Octavio (not admittedly Mozart’s most heroic role) played by “veteran” (courtesy NYT) Spanish tenor Ramón Vargas had softest, most melodic voice ever yet looked like a greengrocer in mufti. Next Monday: Siegfried.
Fifteen years ago I decided I would only buy chinos. Seemed a sensible decision, allowed me to forget about trousers for ever but didn’t carry the finality I required. Chinos (trousers made of cotton twill fabric, usu. khaki-coloured) vary widely. Some come in thin, slippery, synthetic material that seems to flow over my legs like well-diluted paint. Others in something more like sailcloth, capable of stopping a .22 bullet. Others like waterproof pyjamas.
And there’s the colour. Khaki is not standard. My ideal is pale beige but I’m especially put off by diarrhoea (in all its forms). M&S’s Blue Harbour range was perfect until some fidgety designer got out his colour charts. Hereford is not the chino centre of the world; online sources lie about the details and colours are not dependable. And if I found perfection how many pairs dare I buy? I might get fatter (Am getting fatter!) or thinner.
But believe me my legs need covering.
DON GIOVANNI From the Met in HD at Hereford’s Courtyard theatre. Stodgy, slow first act, too many close-ups (even in duets!). Dull, dark set: one side of three-storey building which NYT said resembled an advent calendar. Superb voices made it all the more irritating. Don Octavio (not admittedly Mozart’s most heroic role) played by “veteran” (courtesy NYT) Spanish tenor Ramón Vargas had softest, most melodic voice ever yet looked like a greengrocer in mufti. Next Monday: Siegfried.
8 comments:
Going to see the same production (recorded, I suppose) of Don Giovanni in Aix en Provence tomorrow night. I'll look out for the greengrocer.
EB: It may be recorded or it may be another live performance. This is the fifth or sixth of these Met transmissions we've seen and, despite the fact that almost all were emblazoned with the word "Live" I had difficulty squaring the time difference. Since we were seeing it at 6 pm, that meant the New Yorkers (not the most accommodating people in the world) were taking their seats at midday. I can only assume there was some financial inducement for them to watch opera at such an unfashionable hour.
What I really wanted to say was that there is a greatly superior version of DG (from Glyndebourne) presently doing the rounds and I can recommend it wholeheartedly. The Don wears a white modern-day suit and is a whole lot more donnish.
Close-ups in representations of opera should be avoided. The interior of mouths are best reserved for dentists to inspect. Still I envy you access to these screen performances.
Figure out your ratio of wear to year on growth and you're set! I'm sure there is an algorithm for this ;-).
Siegfried is a Germanic name I have always mistrusted. With that odd combination of siegen and Frieden.
Sartorially, I tend to your philosophy, BB. I buy what are termed "action trousers" (although this sounds like something from Wallace and Gromit). My choice is Craghoppers (http://www.craghoppers.com/buy/classic-kiwi-trousers-long-length-132051)
in grey/blue, beige and green. Lots pockets, machine washable, non-iron and last for ever. I live in them.
PS. They are listed at £42, but I buy mine at the local Millets for about £25 a pop.
Plutarch: Soegfried tonight. With something of a shudder. The start time is at 5 pm - neither afternoon nor evening but a hint that one is in for the long haul.
Julia: It's changing waist-length that's incalculable. No algorithm, just shame.
RW (zs): Here's a discouragement: Siegfried "knows no fear". Thus an unrestrained hooligan.
Avus: I appreciate all this but those pockets worry me. The ideal garment for a suicide bomber.
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