Out of the Mouths of Babes

That AMAZINGLY stylish young lad in the picture is me, circa 1986. I thought I had it all going on back then -- the spikey hair, the flipped-up collar, the docksiders with no socks. I really felt like I belonged on the set of a John Hughes movie.

I also happened to work at a clothing store at the time called Directions. One day it was just me and my district manager in the store, and I wore those exact coral (not pink) suspender pants with a short-sleeved black button shirt that had a haphazard pattern of white squares on it. If you can picture this in your head, you undoubtedly realize that I was clearly at the height of my fashiontastic powers.

A mother came in with her young son, a kid about three or four years old. I went over to ask if she needed help with anything, and she replied that she was just looking. So I went back to folding jeans or lacing sneakers or some other busy work while they walked around.

They eventually started to head out of the store and I could hear that the little boy was crying, so I went to see what was wrong. As I got within earshot I heard him howl, "But mommy -- I wanna go see the clown again!"

Needless to say, I don't think I ever wore that particular outfit again. I think my district manager might still be laughing.