People in the city started to use the word “fresh” to describe stylish clothing long after he associated the word with with a certain outfit. The “Whites”, or specifically, a white linen suit, were something he craved to feel on his body just after the first of the year, when the velvets of the holidays had passed, and he was beginning to grow weary of his heavy tweeds. The climate was too cold to jump start the fashion season, pre-Easter Glamour Don’ts column aside, so he’d wait in anticipation for the first really warm day, even if that day landed in June. As a bonus for waiting, perhaps he’d have a bit of color on his face by then as well. When the day came, sunny and bright, the prospect of the glory of the lightness of it all sometimes interfered with his sleep the night before. That aside, there were some practical problems that popped up during the first wearing each year. The streets were often still dirty from a winter of snow and ice abatement, mixed with the oily droppings of vehicular traffic. Salt was often still present at corners, and without a hard and warm rain, the grey dust of the pavements could puff up with each footfall. The Armani break of trouser legs sometimes allowed the hems to brush too close to the gunk underfoot. The need for scrubbing was evident with disrobing. Also, the weather was especially unreliable in spring, where a sunny day could devolve into rain, melting the form of his Whites into a pasty cling. With that often came a terrible cold front, against which the light as air garments provided little defense.

Still, he soldiered on with this ritual of first wearing, sometimes making small compensations, like an umbrella in the car, or a raincoat at the ready, but mostly he took his chances, as one does with the things one loves.

The lightness and freedom of it all, the breezy billow of it, the feeling of release after the invernal bundling, all of this, in a simplistic, but practical way, made him feel a bit hopeful, and sometimes that is enough for a late April morning.

–Danny Grosso