Reconsidering Brown

Ever since my mother bought me the chocolate brown polyester leisure suit, circa 1977, and paired it with a navy faux-silk rayon shirt festooned with printed bald eagles clutching ribbons and olive branches, Brown and I have held an uneasy truce.

For years, I've shunned Brown, passing it by at the clothing store, my eyes sliding off proffered choices faster than a drunken slalom skiier on an oil-slicked ice patch.

I have, in short, loathed Brown.

But all things, as they say, change. Recently, I had occasion to purchase a cordouroy jacket at an extremely low price. The store was, alas, out of the Olive number I craved, and all that was on the sale rack was a Brown. It called out to me, and I needed a little something to replace my light jacket.

So I bought it.

To my shock and awe, I've gotten more than a few compliments on how I look in Brown. So I've decided to give it another chance. I even went out and bought a sweater in Brown.

Gone, apparently, are the days when Brown and Black were forbidden to appear in the same ensemble. Which is good, since I have a lot more Black in my world than I have Brown.

Brown's just going to have to find a way to fit in.

For now, though, it's enough that I'm warming to Brown again.

I'm magnanimous that way.