It's not easy being chartreuse


I start most days by choosing a palette. It’s often a fairly subconscious process as I flip through my pants, shirts, sweaters, etc in the semi-darkness of my closet. I have a lot of drab, typically male colors: khaki, olive, grey, brown, black. But I also have some ludicrous shades to pick from because I like to buy light color trousers and dye them in my washing machine. I have bright orange cords, raspberry and Pepto-Bismol jeans, lime green, lemon yellow and purple paisley chinos.
So what determines why I’ll end up wearing a sap green cashmere sweater and burnt umber jeans one day and a black turtleneck and black jeans another? It ‘s nothing to do with my mood really.
I can be bad tempered and dress like a clown or feel chipper and gear up like a mime. And when I choose Jack’s clothes, I invariably dress him in a similar style and spectrum to whatever I picked for myself.
Of course, a major factor is whom I’m dressing for: although when I go to ad agencies a wild wardrobe can work for or against me. The biggest subconscious factor is probably the view out the window. If skies are sunny and blue, I put on the peacock. If the day lacks color, so will I.
Then Patti will come in and say: "You’re not wearing that are you?" and I’ll say, "Of course not" and head back to my closet. Color me yellow.

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