Suits Kink of the Week
You’re on your knees at my feet. You stare at my shoes, then glance up with a hand on my ankle and the other running so expertly up my inseam. A pause, a deep breath and then you utter wistful and knowing words about length and break. I love it when you talk to me like that and get it just right. Now you;re looking up at me, desperately seeking approval, validation, and acceptance. I look closely, pause and ponder, move just a little as you suffer silently waiting. Then I ask you ask you to pin it and chalk it. You smile; still on your knees but starting to stand and ask me ever so nicely to put on my jacket. Sounds like really fucked up sex scene but it’s just another day at the tailor. While the above was a little bit of fun it actually has a formality to it that in a way is simply the start of the appeal of suits to me. They are not a kink, and frankly not at all sexual but in a way are very much an extension of who I am or have chosen to be.
So it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows or reads me even occasionally that suits are more or less right up my alley. After all I choose to live my life in them for a variety of reasons and have posted about it before countless times, provided suit porn on both Sinful Sunday and twitter.
Not to mentioned and far more often in private messages and texts.
In many ways I’ve talked about why they work (My Clothes Give me Power) but beyond that there is both a perversion and prestige associated with them for me. All of which has been talked about before so here’s a chance to give you something new.
There is a formality about a suit, it really does begin with the tailoring. In life in general I accept most levels of service as more than adequate…a bad waitress…so what. A rude gate agent…who cares. A poorly executed hem, sleeves not at the right length…unforgivable. It is one of the places I am most critical. In many ways it is because I know exactly what I want and how it should be. The halls I walk in people rightly or wrongly are judged not just by their ability and performance but also by their appearance and perhaps even more so by clothing quality and tailoring is part of that. The Blonde tells people I may not notice a woman’s tits but I know if her pants are the right length of her shoes. I may not know a man’s name but can tell you how his suit fit last time and probably the cloth quality (but not the brand). Cut and cloth matter but tailoring makes it once you’ve reached a modest level of quality.
Something new- I can tell a good suit from a bad one at 50 paces, I know great tailoring when I see it and can often make fairly accurate about your station in life, personality, and attitudes by the cut, color and tailoring of your clothes. Those efforts speak volumes but later there is also a chameleon like quality to certain suits.
While the color palate of my own suits includes a lot of Black, Dark Gray, and Dark Blue some of my favorites are more playful Summer Tan, Bright Blue, and a Very traditional cut Brown Pinstripe. I don’t wear window pane prints. The fun ones you will find me in at a restaurant, a gallery or having a drink (club soda with lime these days).
When at University and everyone was schlepping around in jeans and frat letters trying to get laid I wore double breasted black suits or blue thin cut pin stripes, with black shoes, bright ties and impeccable white shirts. While you were in dive bars I was in upscale eateries having others buy my drinks, doing deals and probably trying to fuck some professor’s daughter or my Poetry prof. while you were hoping for a hand job by some girl in sweats I was having three ways with women who’s fine tailed clothing had been discarded. All done or at least begun in a suit. If we went out and I wasn’t suited up you didn’t rank; theme and frat parties aside of course.
“She likes the boys in the Band”… in sea of black pants, jeans, and cammo shorts I’m like Charlie Watts of the rolling stones. A longtime member of the party, have done more than my fair share of wild shit, am every bit one of the band but look safe, sound, and harmless…until we’re behind closed doors.
50 Shades killed suits at generic kink events for me. Look I was wearing tailored clothing decades before the books but still opt for more of a California casual look these days as to not be mistaken for some budding billionaire wanna be. The exception are formal events where the men are all required to be well dressed and I love the idea of it. Then again I occasionally go to parties where people dress for dinner; yes I’m that sick but don’t waste your time sending help.
I have met governors and senators in a suit and felt on even footing in every way…after all they work for me (and you) in a general sense of the word. Though once I met a republican strategist of national acclaim or infamy (he put two men into the highest office) and I was in jeans, boots, and holding a Vonnegut novel so opted not to have a lengthy conversation as much based on my attire than any other reason. In fairness he was a complete gentleman to everyone I saw him interact with.
“I rock a law suit when I’m going to court, a white suit when I’m getting divorced, a black suit at the funeral home, and my birthday suit when I’m home alone…” from “I just wanna live” by Good Charlotte pretty much nailed it except it’s a gray or blue suit in court and when with bankers.
Suits are both a style choice and a declaration of my status and power. Make no mistake outside of kink power and its spoils have a hold on me that makes D/S look like preschool. There are some seriously fucked up vanilla people with power issues and most of them wear suits.
That well-tailored jacket is my super hero utility belt giving me the ability to have nearby multiple phones, currencies, pens, and documents. Plus of course wicked tools… a small paddle, a short strap, a butt plug, vibe, some lube for use on you at the time of my choosing. And there is always the remote control for the bullet pressing on your clit during dinner that I keep turning on and off at the most interesting times.
Just a little baggage…Suits are also the complete antithesis of the slovenly, uncultured, and unrefined part of the world I despise. The polar opposite of the backwoods sister fucking small town (or more fairly small minded) ass clowns of my youth. They hated me and I felt the same because of it. It would be easy to say in a way that every time I don one, hop in the back of a black car, enter a board room, or disappear into the night with a beautiful woman it is to distance myself from them. In fact that living well is in fact the best revenge but the past 20 years or so I’m (mostly) far past that and living solely for myself and loved ones. Enjoy fucking the same six girls you’ve always known. I’ll be the asshole in a suit with an amazing piece of strange you could only dream about.
Moving right along. I told the Mini One that I’d wear a suit to coffee. It’s true. When life afforded me the time to go out with my Siren I’d tell her in an almost asking manner that I’ll be casual” if a suit wasn’t going to be worn, not that it seemed to matter to her either way. Alice reminds me to “bring casual” clothes when visiting and the Blonde will often preface us going out with. “You’re not planning on wearing a suit are you?” For me unless it’s obvious like a sporting event, day dragging ass around a city, playing tourist, a dive bar, or a rock concert a suit is the thing I am most comfortable in. I don’t care if you’re not wearing one it is simply something that works for me.
So a few simple truths.
Suits hide things about my body I don’t like. Some of my extra girth of late but even before that my long waist and short legs.
I do to a certain extent adjust the suit to my audience…just yesterday I was meeting with a group of people who are always trying to tell me I cost too much. I wore an older lower cost suit I’d have never worn to meet a senior exec or even someone of my own level.
If women didn’t react the way they do to me in a suit I might feel differently.
Shirts, shoes, and belts…are equal to and just as important as the suit and tailoring. In fact they are what rounds out the look.
Tips for suiting up
Wear the suit don’t let it wear you. Make that suit your bitch. I see hundreds of corporate losers in very expensive clothing shuffling around in suits because they have to. Fuck you look like someone made you wear fast food uniform from the kid who worked there before you. Own it with swagger.
For god’s sake get a good tailor and pay them well. Trust your tailor not the sales person. In fact don’t tralk to the sales person talk to the tailor.
Details matter…but price isn’t everything. Sitting in LoDo (Lower Denver- a trendy part of town) I had a custom clothier come up to me and ask me who I used to help with my styling and who made my clothes. It was a $800 suit I bought on clearance for maybe $150, a store brand pink and white shirt and a designer tie probably also on close out, and good shoes (of course). He thought it was all bespoke. I couldn’t have bought a jacket made by him for the cost of the entire outfit head to toe. Money is best spent on women and wild times.
The difference between a well dressed man is not the price of his garments but understanding construction (glued, fused, or stitched). Granted I do tend to overspend at times as well. Recently I added two new good quality mid-range suits to my closet. 25 % of the cost was spent on the tailoring.
Pants…double pleats should always have cuffs. Single pleats are like a great girlfriend and can go either way (and on occasion invite you to participate or watch..I’m just saying). Flat front and anything thin cut uncuffed. Reverse pleats are reserved for M.C. Hammer and other assorted cartoon charters.
Made to measure vs. Off the Rack – I’m not a snob, I’ll spend on tailoring but not made to measure. Shits maybe, Shows sometimes (perhaps from friends in Italy) but suits never. Also it pays to know where a brand has it’s fabric milled or buys it. Often you can get the same or better quality without the name. Want to know why my suit is better than yours and cost 1/3rd of the price…often that’s why.
So you want a little something kinky??? Fair enough after all it is a KOTW post. I wore a Navy blue pin striped suit to an event last fall. Now i find my self thinking back to the scenes i was involved in that day anytime there’s a lull in the action. It is a wonderful memory and grand distraction from the details of the day.