If you ever want to watch the man in your life turn into someone who ends his pronouncements with the phrase, “I have spoken,” give him a robe for Christmas. Then ask him to try it on for you. After that — stand back! The transformation from loved one to King of Siam will be swift and frightening.
You would think he’d slink around, shy about appearing in a garment closely akin to a dress. Nope. A robe will make him channel Hef, Yul Brynner, and Nebuchadnezzar, all at the same time. The guy in the pony-skin-covered pod chair, left, is a case in point. Two minutes ago, before the little woman pleaded with him to don the crazy caftan thing she’d just given him, he was a mild-mannered, obliging, moderately “sensitive” male.
That was two minutes ago! Now he’s ordering his henchman (in stripes) to have the Hanging Gardens of Babylon built, forthwith! Note the regal way he holds one bare foot up for display on the Royal Pouf. His whole bearing just trumpets Dominion! He’s even gripping that plain old juice glass like it’s a goblet of solid gold.
I gave my husband a robe for Christmas once, but it conveniently “got wrecked in the wash” before New Year’s Day. I saw the effect it had on his character, and took action. He hadn’t made it to the dreaded Ascot Stage — yet — but it wouldn’t have been long. Why risk having someone you love become Super Cad, like the dudes here? Give him some gloves.
You two chicks! Fetch me my pipe and slippers! Chop! Chop!
Page Six, Issue Three
Men in Robes
