purple shirt

My sister, the self-appointed arbiter of family fashion bought me shirt a few weeks back and I wore it to dinner at her house last night. The color is purple, bright purple because (and I don't know why) her crusade in this life is to add color to my wardrobe.

Sure, that's me in the picture.

It's a long-sleeve jersey knit polo which is also a change for me. I don't mind long sleeve shirts, but I like the kind of cuffs that allow me to roll up the sleeves. You see, I have gorilla-like arms and most long-sleeve shirts that fit my body are too short in the sleeves. I also feel more freedom of movement with my lower arms uncovered. This shirt wasn't designed to accommodate my predilection and I was forced to bunch up the sleeves around my elbow (not very comfortable).

But getting back to the color, it just didn't feel right. I would look down at my arm and see this purple limb and thought that it must belong to someone else. It's unsettling to be startled by your own appendages. Maybe if I really did resemble the guy in the photo above, I could pull it off, but when your own 15 year-old daughter tells you that you look "gay" then it's time to change your shirt.

My sister insists that I wear too many earth tones. I will admit that I have an affinity for green and khaki. Sometimes I think I was meant to be in the French Foreign Legion or maybe an Australian bush guide. That's just me and I have no interest in auditioning for a role in Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.

I have never owned a purple car or painted any rooms in my house purple. My wife does not have purple hair. I think that as a color, purple should be reserved for royalty and let's be done with it.