The Search for Gray Pants

They say clothes make the man. Well, a quick look at my wardrobe will tell you that I haven't been made in quite some time. I haven't been excited about any shirts I've bought in the last couple years; nice pair of pants even longer. Department stores. High end boutiques. Name brand outlets. Just not feeling them. People say I should try the online thing but, seriously, how can that replace seeing what you want and going after it? LBJ would tell you it can't. He only bought Haggar pants, and only after Sunday morning walks in the Rose Garden.

Over the last two weekends, I've approached finding the perfect pair of gray pants like the documentary film maker Myles Berkowitz approached finding love in 20 Dates - open-minded and committed to the larger mission. Considering this Thursday is Valentine's Day, it's not lost on me that this pant-finding mission could be interpreted as a metaphor for finding love; but I prefer to think of it as using the trials and tribulations of failed romance to prove how important gray pants are.

Now, when I say I'm looking for gray pants, some may say that's very generic and should be easy to find, like saying I'm looking for a "nice person with a good heart." So, to be more specific, I'm looking for dark gray pants - not charcoal, more like a dark gray Crayola crayon color; not dressy but not too casual; a Docker style but not necessarily the Docker brand, and of course, no pleats. And a real pair of pants not that airy thin summer style. I'm demoralized that these pants don't exist. Is it possible there is a fashion conspiracy to keep young professional men in the New England uniform - blue shirt and khaki pants?

So, off we go through the apparel circuit:

Banana Republic: I know ambition can be a virtue, but this place just has too much of it. I don't think BR is a gray pant friendly place. The kind of pants they offer give off the vibe of "I'm an investment banker, I work out 4-5 days a week, training for my third marathon on off days. My favorite place to go after work is Kings." The BR guy is trying to maintain effortless perfection. Any time I meet a guy like that I want to give him a grape soda. Not sure why, but that's what comes to mind.



J. Crew: The guy shopping in J. Crew is very similar to the BR guy except he smiles more. It's hard not be happy in here with all the pastels floating around and there's always at least one sales rep wearing a bright green blazer. I feel good about this for some reason. The guy who shops here has visions of marrying a graphic designer who studied in Australia and worked in Japan. J. Crew is maddeningly close to what I'm looking for: chocolate khaki, navy blue, faint purple, dark green. Your perfect except you don't come in gray. That's like telling someone you like that it can't continue because of religious differences.

Men's Wearhouse: Okay, it's kind of dumb gimmicky name like a bed store called the Lumbar Yard, but it's outside the periphery of the late twenties apparel circuit, so it could surprise. What surprised me was the honesty of the place. What are you looking for today, sir? Dressy or casual? "Actually, I'm looking for a hybrid? Do you have that in gray pants?" I guess he's not used to customers knowing exactly what they want, so it may have disarmed him. "No, we don't have that. I know what you mean though." Well, once the truth is out, it's pretty easy to walk away.


TJ Maxx: I feel like if you are looking for a nice girl, you go to church. Just like if you are looking for a nice pair of pants you go to Marshalls or TJ Max. Unfortunately, the holy trinity of the pant buying decision - fabric, cut, and reasonable price - needs to be favorable in all three variables. TJ Maxx usually fails the first two.

American Eagle: I haven't bought anything in this store since the Mighty Mighty Bosstones were big but I know they carry the color of pants I'm looking for; unfortunately I also know they will probably be cargo pants. Yup, there they are. A 29 year old dropping in on AE is akin to a college sophomore attending a high school party. Whether or not people see you as refreshingly cool or completely lame, you don't belong there.

Forever 21 (New York): It's nice to have an out-of-town shopping fling and Forever 21 in Union Square is mine. And by fling, I mean I bought one thing in two visits over three years. Unfortunately, I can't pull off most their clothes - a low hung, wide neck sweater? Forget it. I like the design and the material, but I just can't pull that off. And so the fling has probably ended.

Gap: Any man who ends up here is completely out of ideas and no longer has the will to hold out for what he's really looking for. Looking around the Gap is like looking at a McDonald's menu - you know exactly what they have but are committed to looking around in the off chance they have something new. Six shades of tan khaki? Really, I wouldn't have guessed that.

7 places down, 13 to go. My Crayola gray pair of pants is out there somewhere.