Even during somber events, it’s inevitable that Dan and I find moments of levity. This was certainly the case today, when Dan so kindly modeled his sartorial masterpiece from his junior high home economics class, which has been buried in his parents’ house from the past decade and a half. Why it is he hasn’t been wearing it all along is a mystery to me. After all, isn’t early 1990s Long Island middle school fashion the epitome of chic?

There it is in all of its delightful buffalo plaid flannel sleeveless goodness! As I examined the garment in all of its crooked-seamed and minimally-finished glory, I did notice that it had a rather impressive button placket down the front with some slightly wonky but impressively capable buttonholes, a skill that I would have thought would be beyond the scope of an 8th grade home ec course. I complimented him on this achievement, and he said that “it came with that.” Turns out the shirt was some sort of kit from a company called Pineapple Appeal (still around today, but alas the plaid flannel sleeveless sack is no longer available!) Home ec for slackers! I guess the shirt came partially (or completely) cut and partly assembled and then it was up to the 13-year olds to polish it off into the badass fashion you see here:

Oh yeah, did I mention that it came with a sweatshirt hood? Sweet.

I’ve always rather envied Dan because he’s got the sort of build and coloring that allow him to look good in just about anything. As it turns out, there are exceptions. I suggested to Dan that the shirt could possibly be improved with the addition of some sort of saying painted across the back, perhaps “Young hearts run free” or “Live fast, die young” to which he responded, “Why not both?” Perhaps this is a project for another time.

In actuality, Dan’s a pretty able crafter these days, home ec fashion nightmares notwithstanding. He’s not an obsessive freak like his sewing-addicted fiancee, but he knows his way around a sewing machine, and has even been known to unselfishly knit up a pretty pair of felted slippers for the Selfish Seamstress’s perpetually chilly feet:

Or crochet a pillow for her perpetually scheming head:

As you can see, I not only milk him for all he’s worth, but get a little sharp-dressed arm candy in the deal. Now if only we can find his old Z. Cavaricci’s to go with that shirt…