Husband Yenta’s Tuxedo
May 25, 2008 – May 25, 2008
Loyal Fancy Suit and Trusted Wedding Costume
That’s right. Let’s pour a little out for my husband’s wedding tuxedo, which we recently discovered had passed away, most likely, on our wedding night. One wear – and an important one! – but such a short life in Husband Yenta’s side of the closet.
A few months before our wedding, he purchased his Ralph Lauren (ooo! Fancy!) tuxedo from the tux shop that also outfitted the rentals for the groomsmen. Because he wishes he lived in the world of The Great Gatsby, he wanted to own a tuxedo and to wear it to future formal events. Trouble is, we’re not living out our years at speakeasies and garden parties, so Ralph the Tux wasn’t seeing the light of day.
Finally, four years after our wedding, we would have two formal weddings to attend, giving reason for Husband Yenta to unearth Ralph from the avalanche of work polos and khakis to try on for the upcoming nuptials of our good friends and his sister, events that were happening two weeks apart.
The biggest concern was the elephant in the room: would Ralph still glide right on like butta the way it did on our wedding day or had four years of marital bliss also brought on marital bulge?
Well, friends, you’ll have to stay in suspense because the truth is, we don’t know.
(this is probably a good thing).
(except it’s not because there’s more to this story).
When Husband Yenta brought Ralph into the light of our bedroom, he noticed that the jacket did not match the pants. The pants were labeled as Ralph as they should, but the jacket was a random, generic name and was accompanied by [gasp!] a bar code!
It’s a little tricky to replay the series of events that took place four years ago after coming off the high of getting married and a perfect night, but we, Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, deduced that upon the scurry of gathering up our items at the end of the night, Husband Yenta’s purchased Ralph Lauren tuxedo jacket got scooped up and piled up with the rentals that the groomsmen were returning the next day. Do not worry, dear ones. The Ralph Lauren tuxedo pants remained on his person.
After a hot and steamy Horah, my dashing groom probably removed his jacket, draped it over a chair, and, never to be worn again, would go back to the rental store from which it was purchased, and live among the coming and going jackets of a lesser caliber. And what my husband took home? One of the groomsmen’s assigned weekend jacket.
Apparently, the tux shop counted units and paid no attention to the labels on the inside of the returned tuxedos. “One, two, three, four? Yup. Got ‘em! Thanks for your business! Ta ta!”
So now the lower half of the Ralph Lauren tuxedo has been orphaned without a buddy. The tuxedo shop has changed its entire scanning system since our wedding four years ago – we checked – and the Ralph is long gone. Once worn. Never forgotten.
The moral of this sad tale that details the demise of an otherwise perfect penguin suit? At the end of your wedding reception, please do make sure your husband leaves with his jacket. Make sure that the groomsmen all leave with theirs. Menswear isn’t exactly too exciting to the naked eye, and it’s too easy for them to be mistaken for similar versions.
As for the two weddings we will be enjoying in the next two weeks? Well, it’s just too soon to replace the fallen formalwear. Blame it on sentimentality. Blame it on the promise of a diet (did you know marital bliss = culinary bliss?). Husband Yenta will be leaving Ralph behind and joining the ranks of the renters.