Tomorrow Vicki and I are off to Norfolk for our first real English Wedding. The groom was educated at Cambridge and plays cricket. The bride's grandmother is genuine aristocracy -- an actual 'Lady'.
It's all just too daunting and sent me into a blind sartorial panic today. I still have the suit which I was married in and had recently bought some dress shoes but my only tie was a crumpled, twisted thing with pulled threads and those few of my shirts with collars are all dotted with mysterious stains and/or are missing buttons and in some cases entire sleeves.
Being a immensely foolish man I left shopping for a replacement tie and shirt until the day before the wedding and rushed out on my lunch hour. I did my best to find support, taking my wife along for a personal eye and phoning a gay friend a regular intervals for advice on what shop to try next and what colours go with what.
In the end, I panicked in Moss Bros in Covent Garden and let the salesman pick my shirt and tie. I subtly checked out the price on the shirt to make sure it wasn't crazily expensive, but just blindly signed the VISA slip without even checking the price of the tie. It was fifty quid. Man! Real stores are WAY more expensive than charity shops. I could have rented an entire Morning Coat get-up for less than the price of my tie. Oh well.
Time for bed as we have a train to catch and must be on our best colonial behaviour amongst the better classes tomorrow. Updates to follow.