I’m younger now than I will ever be, and I will never be as old as I hope to be ultimately (though 200 would make a good innings). Anxiety and having no money may make youth charming to look at at, but it was awful to be a part of. The need to win fades, and you find you have won, and now can race for the love of the sport. Dressing well is a natural outcome of these evolutions, as though growing to become a more dignified being, entails growing into more dignified clothes.
These are photos I stole from the sartorialist, a blog worth remembering when the prospect of just getting older and older means you’ve stopped looking into the future—a state that beset me a few years back, just before I turned 40. One gripe I have with my provincial town, is that classic suburbanite view that everyone owes it to the soil to go to seed before 30. Well I say, give the young something to hope for. My kids can hope to be like me, if they play their cards right, as I hope I’ll be like some of these dudes when I’m even older than I am now. I love that white jacket!