Hello-Hello, and Happy-Day-Before-Friday!
Because it remains crazy-busy here in the corner condo at Princess InterGalactic HQ, once again we shall stoop to a post more filled with photos than fabulosity.
We begin with the thought that many readers will remember back in the olden daze days, when one of the primary purposes of golf at the club was doing a little business whilst making one’s way over to the nineteenth eighteenth hole. TP’s father certainly solidifed more than one commerce-related friendship in this manner, although TQM ultimately opted out of her role as the executive’s spouse; something to do with the 12-hour time commitment required for proper entertaining: attention to the round and wife/wives at hand, cocktails following the sporting event, dinner after the libations, you know the drill. It was a far more ‘liquid-intense’ affair back in the day than it is now. (No, bottled water is not what we reference with the word liquid.)
Naturally one required appropriate apparel for these activities, and we remember both parents clad in colorful prints. Yet somehow they avoided looking like this:
This strikes us as something that really transcends the average Adventures in Argyle, don’t you think?
Believe it or not, the appendages cloaked in the garments seen above and below all belong to one individual.
Come now, you must know upon whose legs you gaze … of course you do.
It is that bad boy of golf, John Daly. And before one thinks about looking in horror upon his wardrobe selections over at Turnberry (or elsewhere) let us all remember he is only doing his job, promoting his eponymous line of golf clothing.
The name of his line? Loudmouth.
As always, writers on the far side of the Pond describe the scene far better than we can; here is a morsel from the Times talking about Mr. Daly’s look at the Scottish Open last Friday:
His “pants” as they call them in the United States – in Scotland we prefer “breeks” – were just about indescribable: a bonfire of colour, at least six different shades of polka-dot, from his rear to his ankles. You could be forgiven for thinking Daly had forgotten to change out of his pyjamas when he rose in the morning. “Christ, I was aghast when I saw him!” rasped a Scottish marshall on the 9th tee…”
Loudmouth offers amazing styles and the Ladies should not feel as if there is nothing equally striking for their walk-in, below we share a slightly more tame look in our favorite color combination:
And while the pink and green is really quite acceptable, when it comes to Mr. Daly’s attire we envision TQM now floating somewhere between “Gasp! The horror” and “Did you make this up?”
Others sported argyle this week at the British Open, including Tom Watson in a more classic style.
Mr. Watson’s sweater is from one of his sponsors, Polo Ralph Lauren.
Frequent readers know this isn’t the first time we’ve commented on proper clothing for athletic endeavors. Hardly. For a far more entertaining look at just how big the pro-apparel sponsorship business is, here is a story running earlier this week in the Times. For example, we had no idea that Nike selected what Tiger Woods would wear this week more than a year ago. (And we’re OCD?)
There is no shortage of bright colors and bold patterns on the golf course. We enjoy most of them, but do feel if one is going to have a strong horizontal pattern it simply must be matched at the side seams. If this means the item becomes too costly to manufacture, then it simply should not be made, it is too offensive to the human eye.
You won’t be disappointed.
And those fond of the excellent selection of goods at the MOMA store may appreciate a reminder:
We close with happy news here at the Prepatorium, we are starting to receive our calendars for next year in stock! Below, the Donovan Designs 2010 desktop offering.
We like their cute colors and grosgrain bow, along with the acrylic easel holding the darling artwork. (And their price point of only $18!)
On that cheery note, G’bye until next time!