It’s hot. The humidity hasn’t hit the 90% mark as of yet, but still, anything over 92ºF is hot.
When the mercury threatens to burst through the top of the thermometer, I turn to airier fabrics — cottons and linens whenever possible. Yes, lightweight wool wicks moisture, but I don’t have any 1/4 lined, super 130’s frescos in the closet. Yet.
But I do have a white linen suit. That’s it above, accessorized to look more modern, since I can tend toward costume, if I’m not careful. The shirt is poplin, charcoal pencil-striped, the pocket square is black and tan patterned, and the tie is black knit. I wore black chiseled toe Venetian loafers and no socks and no belt as the trousers are lower rise and would have shown the black leather at my waist. (I had some voice over work to do, not on-camera.)
If you are in a creative field, I encourage you to take the plunge and wear linen — white linen if you can get away with it. It really will make you feel very elegant. Add a blue linen blazer, at least, for those days when you don’t have to see clients or go to court. Sometimes it’s nice not to worry about wrinkles.
I’ve wanted a white linen suit since the Christmas holidays, 1990, when I was fortunate enough to be afloat a 54′ power boat in the BVI’s. Somewhere around three in the morning, I was awakened by the racket coming from shore, about 100 yards from where we were anchored. Junkanoo had spilled onto the beach. As I peered with binoculars through the porthole, bleary-eyed with champagne, I saw a bonfire ringed with 35 or 40 people dancing and blowing horns, whooping it up. And around this festive group rode a whitehaired, tanned man on a bicycle, waving a bottle, barefoot, barechested, in a crumpled white linen suit. Easy in the islands.
I would have added a pocket square. One must have one’s standards.