So, as with any major life change, the layoff thing has illuminated a few needs that have long gone unattended. Most importantly: the need of a suit. Sarah and I were trying to figure out just how embarrassing it is that I’ve lived the entire 26 natural years of my life without having ever purchased this essential garment for modern living. I’ve barely managed to skate by formal events on clothing rentals, the hand-me-down jacket from a friend from high school (namely, ??Jon Hughes??) for senior photo day, and the sport jacket my mother-in-law purchased for Sarah’s and my honeymoon. But now, with the responsibility of wooing a prospective employer (or client) for the purpose of earning cold hard cash, my formalwear fate is sealed.

To give you a sense of just how clueless I am about anything dressier than khakis, I began my search in the worst of all possible places: J.C. Penney. After meandering through the store and frankly admitting to the salesperson that I had no idea what I was looking for, he brought me — as a stern parent leads a disruptive child — to the suits separates rack. If you’re unfamiliar, let me indulge: the separates idea in suit purchasing gives you, the suit buyer, the opportunity to afford the cheapest possible pants/jacket combination while _simultaneously_ giving you that freshly-punched-out-of-a-mold look. All this can be yours for just south of $200. Convinced that more exploration was in order, I left in search of information unencumbered by the hard sell.

Some well-known brand searching on the web brought to light some interesting observations as I bounced from site to site. In the early stages of searching for any information, you begin to get a sense for what you’re looking for and are rapidly able to discern dross from gold. To wit: someone _really_ needs to tell Penney’s that if they’re going to photograph men wearing their products, it might just be fitting for them to actually _tailor_ said item to the model first. After looking at this photo from Nordstrom’s, this model looks as though he’s wearing a garbage bag. Note the extra cloth around the midsection hanging off of him like a curtain — not exactly the most stunning first impression to make at an interview.

As with everything, Google bestowed cluefulness after some diligent searching, sifting, reassessment, and drill down. A “similar to” search on Nordstrom’s mercifully returned the Men’s Wearhouse. More Googling also turned up a four-article series on men’s fashion at The Morning News, of all places. And, the articles are actually really good, though written in TMN’s own, er, inimitable style. So much so, that I thought them each worthy of a link: Part 1, Suits; Part 2, Dress Shirts; Part 3, Pants; Part 4, Conclusion. Crassness aside, Part 1 was actually quite helpful for even simple things like: never, ever button the bottom button on a two- or three-button jacket. News to me.

An hour-and-a-half at Men’s Wearhouse with a very helpful salesperson, and Sarah and I settled on a sharp-looking three-button charcoal suit for a reasonable amount of money (which is, of course, a thinly-veiled euphamism for “let’s hope this new gig results in a substantial raise to pay for this”). They say feeling good and looking sharp is half the battle in interviewing — I suppose getting one is the other half — so I should be well on my way to that dream job any day now.