Yeah, a vest guy. No, not a sweater vest guy. Or A cowboy. More of a gentleman who wears a sleeveless winter garment. As I roamed the halls of retail prior to Christmas (me and the, like, three other people who don't do the bulk of their shopping online), I started looking for a new winter coat. This is a bit of a departure for me. As a rule, I hate wearing coats. They are too bulky in the car, I have to keep track of them once indoors, and they admit surrender at the hands of Weather. In the past I'd rather take my chances freezing while crossing a parking lot than carrying a heavy coat through the grocery store. However, one of the concessions I've made to age is that I can't fight the cold as easily. The harsh wind cuts through to the bone. Gone are the days of wearing shorts in December. So, I was looking for something warm, yet comfortable. Cozy, but light. Utilitarian, yet stylish. Not that I would know stylish if it fell on my head like a cartoon anvil.
The more I browsed coats, the more I bumped into vests. I tried on a few. Hmm, snug as a cocoon and I can move my arms freely? Nice. Lightweight and waterproof? Hey hey, we might onto something here. As I stood in the middle of Boscov's test-flailing my arms around like a twin turbine windmill, I realized a vest might just be the outerwear that possesses both the warmth and the unencumbered free range of motion I desire.
But I needed to proceed with caution; being a vest guy comes with some inherent dangers. One, I run the risk of being a hypocrite. For years I have made fun of my wife for wearing winter vests. Each fall I break out my oh so clever little quips: Forget your sleeves? Still paying full price for half a coat? Marty McFly called, he wants to take his life preserver back to the future. Buying myself a vest would admit that all those insults were hollow or that my wife was right. Not sure we can have that.
Secondly, a vest guy carries a certain air about him, doesn't he? Maybe a vest guy is a little too "bro", a little too douchy. Like Chaz the Obnoxious Ski Instructor or a model for an outdoor menswear catalog. Let's face it, the only menswear catalog I could ever model for might be L.L. Beef. Finally, what if a winter vest serves as a gateway garment? "Sun's out, Guns out" is like the crystal meth of fashion advice. It's possible I'll stop wearing sleeves altogether. Leather biker vests, cutoff denim shirts, Larry the Cable Guy shirts, muscle shirts, tank tops - nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to see that looming train wreck.
As the holiday season dragged on, I stalked men's department mirrors wondering if each vest was too Chaz, too McFly, or just right. I ultimately decided to hold off on a coat purchase in case Santa's elves had already made me one. It was a good call because Amanda and Grace had indeed bought me a warm, puffy sleeveless jacket. Thanks to my wife's sense of humor or irony, I'm now a vest guy! Hope I can pull it off. Now I'm off to the gym to get these biceps ready for Summer.