I am not Batman, and if I were, I probably wouldn’t tell you. Rather, I would allow you to note the suspicious similarities between my life and his. Because you are reading this and not directly observing me , I will enumerate a few similarities, because (like Batman) I am inclined to be helpful: We are both bachelors. We both are inclined to do the batdance at parties.
And we both wear the same things over and over again.
Now, I am not limited to tuxedo and batsuits, largely because I don’t own a tuxedo and it is apparently quite difficult to find a tailor willing to sow nipples into your clothing (and I REFUSE to ever wear a protective suit and cowl that does not have nipples).
For me, I have enough clothing for two weeks (assuming, comically, that I change every day and don’t believe the weekend is technically one long day and starts on Thursday). This works fine unless you see me more than bimonthly, and then you start to notice a certain “uniform” for different occasions…I have a pair of cordouroy pants and a black button down that constitutes my “formal wear” when wearing my little black dress would be inappropriate (read: always. It’s very short).
Unfortunately, half of my two weeks worth of shits is t-shirts, which is frankly useless once it gets cold (I also don’t own a coat, rather a hooded sweatshirt that doubles as my pillow).
I am not complaining. First off, I am very talented with accessorizing with foodstains, so one shirt is actually three different shirts of varying patterns and smell (an under-utilized sensorial dimension in the fashion world, I do believe). Pants usually get a new “look” when I’ve worn them basically home in the rain, and again, often acquire a more complex scent, like a good wine.
Socks, of course become cleaner if you give them a day or two rest in a well ventilated space.
Underwear, well, see above caveats to what constitutes a weekend “day.” Here too, it is not problematic: like Batman I am a committed to my bachelordom, so there is little occasion to see my underwear, and therefore the same scrutiny that applies to shirts and pants.
My point is is this: if it bothers you, hang out with me only once every two weeks. That’s probably all I can do, as I’m pretty busy “tinkering” down in my cave like basement. You can schedule an appointment with Alfred.