Cottage Memories Chronicles of A City Boy’s Life In The Country

FASHION FRAYDOM

Christmas is coming and the wife is probably conspiring with Old Saint Nick to bring me new cottage clothes. As if a guy who’s been around forever in the same old suit is some kind of fashion maven. Besides, I don’t want anything new and our cottage is running out of closet room. Even after the wife staked her closet claim, I couldn’t conceive of ever filling the remaining space. But I hadn’t anticipated my cottage garb revolution.

Initially, we carried clothing back and forth each weekend in suitcases. Our cottage apparel was city apparel with creases. The novelty of sorting, folding and packing, then unpacking, unfolding and unsorting, followed by bunching, wadding, cramming for the return trip, wore off the fourth time I forgot underwear. The wife quipped that I gave new meaning to the phrase, ‘hanging out at the cottage’.

I either left my undies in the city or didn’t bring them back from the cottage. Either way, I had to restock every week. The wife suggested investing in jockey short futures. Instead, we decided to keep all our cottage attire at the cottage.

Opting for function over fashion, I divided my existing wardrobe into city and cottage. New and used. In style and outdated. Pristine and shabby. Our cottage became the repository of every stitch I couldn’t part with – a plethora of bygone eras, unfortunate trends and mismatched outfits. Some were rescued from the wife’s rag bag and others smelled of stale mothballs. My cottage appearance went from snazzy to Sally Ann overnight. Our neighbours wondered if I’d lost my job. The wife replied: “No, just his mind.”

Now the bulging contents of my cottage closets are casual, comfortable and cautious. My caution is due to open seams, worn knees and frayed edges. Missing Buttons. Bottomless pockets. Broken zippers. Overly air-conditioned crotches and elastic that isn’t anymore. Layering resolves most exposure issues – I overlap holes in one layer with material from the next. The wife says I should carry a fig leaf just in case. As if only one would be large enough.

I never have to dress down into cottage work clothes because I’m already there. I keep spare gear handy on hooks, doorknobs, rafters, chair arms, nails and in strategically located piles – so I can change swiftly if something falls off mid-stride. I’ve learned to sit with my legs together, wear suspenders, and carry emergency duct tape. I exit the cottage with the expectation that what I’m wearing may not return with me. I’m always shugging and tugging and rearranging and clutching. They say clothes make the man; the wife thinks I’m closer to the Emperor and his new ones.

She’s always trying to tidy up my cottage wardrobe. Shifting things around. Cramming back in closets. Hiding my stuff from sight. I can never find my wood chopping pants or painting shirt or digging shoes or chimney cleaning jacket where I left them. With my wardrobe in such constant flux, everything worn, loose and mismatched also has become spattered, stained and sooted. The wife says I look like a tramp. Better than parading around in the buff like that Emperor. Or always clutching a handful of wilted fig leaves.

The wife asks if I ever look in the mirror, but why shatter any illusions? And speaking of looks, the wife shot me an exasperated one recently, as yet another reminder of a wardrobe reassessment she’s been pushing for. I guess my “postponing because of the pandemic” excuse must be wearing as thin as my clothing.

I bet Santa just wants the wife to get her Christmas list finalized. Hopefully, she’s hesitating because I don’t like receiving new clothing, a trepidation that began when a kindly aunt started gifting me day-glow socks every Christmas – I never wear them, except when she visits. Where’s the wife’s rag bag when I really need it?

I’m doing fine with my own garment choices. After all, my authentic cottage wardrobe is more varied than Santa’s solitary red and white suit, which probably reeks of reindeer. Why can’t they just get me red and green duct tape for Christmas? ‘Tis the season, Ho-Ho-Ho!

Craig Nicholson is a long-time Kawarthas cottager who also provides tips and tour info for snowmobilers at intrepidsnowmobiler.com and for PWC riders at intrepidcottager.com.