A Singer-Songwriter's Strange Song

A Singer-Songwriter’s Strange Song

When we are going out for the evening, and if the time of year requires it, I will put a sweater on top of whatever I have been wearing all day. It’s a delight to me when, in contrast, my wife disappears into the closet and reappears in her finery for us to go out, having chosen an appropriate combination of earrings and bracelets and gowns and scarves. I don’t know why it should be that women bear chief responsibility for dressing up. In our local arboretum it’s the male peacocks that possess exotic finery and look as if they really enjoy displaying it. I’m glad I don’t have to do so, and I would be grieved if my wife couldn’t do so, because I’m proud to go out with someone who can make herself look so fine…