As with many men, Christmas is a time for wardrobe updates, and while I like free stuff as much as the next person, I’ve had a seven year run of plaid flannel shirts given to me as gifts. While handy at times, these warm, lumberjacking shirts have taken over my closet. I could not let this trend continue and notified the ladies nearest and dearest to my heart, “I don’t know how, or even why this started, but for the love of God, enough. No more plaid flannel. I look like some sort of bizarro Alaskan designer.”
This year, I received some button-down oxfords (blended, even, as to avoid the iron a bit more). The twist of this whole story though is that the culprits were not the ladies, but my grandfather, and while the realization settled into my skull, I was a little weirded out as my women + Christmas = plaid flannel shirt formula came crashing down around me. At least they were able to get the message to him: no more flannel, he works inside.
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