Seersucker and Sazeracs

Fauxjen Cocktail

Ryan Lee Waldron — Sat, 02 Feb 2013 00:17:52 +0000

When the Carnival staple, Ojen, disappeared, the revelers of the Crescent City first panicked. When the panic had subsided, we gathered our collective composure and found a replacement, Luxardo Sambuca. Shortly thereafter a better alternative was found, and the city quickly accepted another Spanish Anise Liqueur: Vincente Bosch's Anise Del Mono.

Anise Del Mono, the Anisette of the Monkey, was a gift to New Orleanians. It was as close to Ojen as one could reasonably hope, and it was even a tab bit cheaper than Ojen was in its last days. The one caveat was that there was only a single perveyor: Elio's Wine Warehouse.

Alas, when I was visiting elio's today, they regretfully informed me that they were no longer able to acquire Anise Del Mono. It seems that the monkey was no longer pdealing his sweet anisette here in the Crescent City.

The employees at Elios recommended another Liqueur from Espana, Chinchon, but regretfully, I must admit that I found it a bit too sour to make for a good Fauxjen Cocktail. I suppose we'll have to go back to the Luxardo Sambuca until someone either finds a better replacement or gets the monkey back here... Or if Martin Wine Cellar can get someone to produce the original Ojenrecipe. Fingers Crossed.

Products of the South: Carolina Cotton Bow Ties

Ryan Lee Waldron — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 04:35:45 +0000

A bow tie is a coded signal. It lets other men that wear bow ties (eve though they might not be wearing one at that moment) that you are in the know. He'll know that y'all are both members of the same unspoken club, that the two of you have more in common than most, even if everything else is seemingly different.

This club has a southern inner circle; there is an even more exclusive group of cotton bow tie wearers. Though I owned a cotton bow tie or two, I realized what it meant when I was recently contacted by Ethan at Carolina Cotton Bow Ties. After a bit of chatting, he let me know about their new fall line, which I suggest you check out ASAP. A bit more about the company is best said in Ethan's word's:

At Carolina Cotton Bow Ties we put a new twist on an old southern staple. We offer classic bow ties but have some edgier patterns too. We personally select our patterns and purchase most material locally. It all started with my grandmother who has and still does make bow ties for my father and I. We have carried the love and craftsman ship that she put into her bow ties into ours.

What sets us apart from all of the other bow tie makers is just our good old fashion customer service. We love talking to people and helping them ﬁnd the perfect bow tie. Let’s face it a bow tie is an extension of your personality and we don’t want you to settle. If we don’t have what you are looking for, we will do our best to ﬁnd it.

Now that you've read about the company, and checked out the fall line, I bet you're ready to buy a tie or seven. If that's the case, then I have just the thing for you, a coupon code. Uses the code "SNS12" and you'll get 10% off. So, uhh, yeahh, go get one!

Put Your Feet Where They Belong (inside of shoes)

Ryan Lee Waldron — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 17:59:03 +0000

Men,

If you own any flip-flops (or if you prefer, thong sandals), THROW THEM AWAY IMMEDIATELY. There is one single acceptable purpose for a man to wear such footwear – communal showers. They do absolutely nothing to improve you manliness, and generally they give the impression that either you do not care how you look, or that you want to wear a style of shoe that has a distinctly feminine form to it. Furthermore, men have ugly feet. This is not an opinion, it is a fact. As a man, I can’t see any reason to look at another man’s feet short of inspecting his pussing blister to ensure his ability to continue on a forced march; I also suspect women don’t particularly want to see them either. So, please, keep them in your shoes. Also, I don’t want to hear the pitiful excuse that you have no other shoe options with shorts. This is a cop-out; go buy boatshoes or loafers.

Very Respectfully,

Seersucker and Sazeracs

Products Of The South: State Traditions

Ryan Lee Waldron — Thu, 19 Jul 2012 18:10:53 +0000

There I found myself on the State Traditions website staring at the Baton Rouge Gameday Hat; I was torn by a very embittered internal struggle - trying to decide whether I wanted Purple hat with a Gold Louisiana or Gold with the state in Purple. It was then that I realized that this outfit would be a perfect fit the "Products of the South" series. Why are they so perfect? Well, no matter which state in Dixie you wish to honor, they have a product for you, and quite likely in colors that you find to go together really well (even if outsiders would disagree). Here's how the folks at State Traditions describe themselves:

We created State Traditions in the summer of 2007 in order to offer state-inspired apparel and accessories that reflect individual tastes and lifestyles. We began by designing polos for a handful of states, and in the past five years, have expanded to include items such as t-shirts, hats, visors, ties, and more, for every state in America.

What makes State Traditions unique is that we focus on something people already have a connection with: their home state. Our products conjure up favorite memories of times spent there -- backyard barbecues in Georgia, afternoons on the lake in Michigan, twilight nights in Tennessee, fly fishing in Colorado ,or Saturday football games in Louisiana. After all, the places we come from and the things we love to remember make us who we are. What's your tradition? Proudly wear it.

Sharing the awesomeness that is State Traditions with y'all did distract me though; I never decided which hat to get. So, which do y'all think I should get, Purple on Gold or Gold on Purple?

Great Lakes Prep

Ryan Lee Waldron — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 15:10:40 +0000

Here in the South, we are very proud of region. But just cause one isn't from the South doesn't mean that he can't be proud of the land from which he hails. Nick is one of these people that is proud of his place of origin (which is not Southern). He publishes a webpage called Great Lakes Prep, and Its a great read wherever one is from. He describes as:

Great Lakes Prep is a lifestyle blog dedicated to the preppy aesthetic. From its base in the Great Lakes, it explores brands, both young and old, crafting preppy wares and provides a Midwestern perspective, a voice not often heard in the prep realm. It's an exploration into life in the Midwest, both in general and from a prep perspective, and a primer for anyone curious about visiting the area. It's a movement to show the rest of the country we're just as proud of where we come from as they are and to show that the Midwest isn't just some vast expanse in the middle of the country to fly over. Whether you live in the Midwest, have lived here or are just curious to gain perspective on how we do prep in the Midwest, I hope you'll enjoy what you read.

I make sure not to miss a single post of his, and you shouldn't miss any either.

White On White

Ryan Lee Waldron — Tue, 12 Jun 2012 09:43:00 +0000

Good IdeaNo, that title is not referencing the surprising new violent crime trend among upper management in Fortune 500 companies; it is referencing a new breed of seersucker I've seen popping up on suits recently. As any seersucker fabric, this is composed of alternating strips of straight and ruffled fabric, but unlike the traditional color scheme where the straigh stripes are blue and the ruffled stripes are white (or a more fun fabric which may use green or prink in lieu of blue) both straig and ruffled strips are white.

This makes for a suit that looks more formal that a blue and white seersucker suit, almost infringing on the territory of the white linen suit. This suit should provide a nice middle ground between the two though; it has the look of whit elinen but the comfort of seersucker. One might ponder, is linen not itself supposed to be a material that will provide comfort in the summer heat? Yes, linen should breathe and keep one's sweating to a minimum, but once one does sweat a good bit, many find that it becomes heavy and looses its breathability. Seersucker doesn't seem to suffer fromt he same ailment. This alone seems reason enough to check out this sharp looking material for your next suit.

Would I replace my white linen suit with a White on White Seersucker Suit? No, I still don't think it is appropriate for after the sun has set, but it does convey a certain refinement seersucker has, until now, sometimes seemed to be lacking.

The City/Country Dilemma (Part 3)

Ryan Lee Waldron — Fri, 25 May 2012 16:49:47 +0000

If you've yet to read the first two posts in this series, please begin here.

One might describe the image of “Country Life” as rugged, Outdoorsy, rather casual (read: Blue jeans), refined, and pastoral. For “City Life,” the average American is more likely to envision suited businessmen, cocktail parties, and cutting edge technology. Generally, the dissimilarity is that of sophistication versus naiveté. This is a broad stereotype that is simultaneously an antiquated fallacy and a modern misconception. In the world of computers and interstate highways, one may live in a rural area, but enjoy all of the benefits that an urban setting offers. Furthermore, this distinction certainly wasn’t as rigid several decades ago. From the initial habitation of the South, until well into the twentieth century, oftentimes the country was thought of as the place of greater civility. Prior to the Second World War, a common depiction of cities was that of dirty places filled with criminals and hustlers, whereas the folk of gentility lived on plantations out in the cleaner fresh air of the Rural South.

From whence did this notion of Country as Rural and City as Sophisticated arise? Why did the South so drastically make the aforementioned change after during the Post-war period? It has its origins in the Suburbs. Suburbs popped up like weeds in the era following the Second World War in response to servicemen returning stateside, often with quite a few dollars saved up. These young men coalesced with their new families (at relatively young ages, too), often times in parts of the country that were both geographically and culturally distant from the places of their origins. The common culture in the suburbs was not that of their region, but that of the country as a whole. In an era busting with patriotism and pride for the whole of the United States, these suburbs became havens for cultural homogenization.

I identify with the Urban South, but I’ve had my love affair with the Rural South.

Both of its faces define the South’s inimitable character. Each is unique, but each is also distinctly Southern, and the South wouldn’t be the wonderful region it is without either. With two unique faces that have blurred to define the one region we might ask how one would then define our land. That which is distinctly NOT Southern is the burbs. That statement is incorrect, as it would imply that there is something distinct about general suburbia; nothing is distinct about it. Applebees and Culs-de-sac and Targets may be familiar faces that one can comfortably recognize anywhere he goes, but none of these things purvey the magnificence that our fine region demands. They deliver only mediocrity. Homogenization leads to this mediocrity; and it was for this reason that I could contemplate living in the country, be drawn to the city, but never really even consider suburbia.

So does this mean that the South defined more by its rural side? Does all of this imply that the urban side of the South delivers its distinct culture? I hesitate to say either; but that which I am sure of is that the South is not defined by its suburbs. The suburbs represent the America that is non-regional, and the South is if nothing else a distinct region, and a region deservedly proud of its distinction. So, whether you see the South as a land of Pickup Trucks and Hank Williams, or you see Debutante Balls and Downtown Lunch Clubs, realize that both of these airs are important and relish the wonderful region we have down here.

The City/Country Dilemma (Part 2)

Ryan Lee Waldron — Thu, 10 May 2012 14:30:34 +0000

To understand my viewpoint, I am going to provide my background as a portal through which one may gaze.

I was born in the city limits of New Orleans, and it was there that lived for the first ten years of my life. Those first ten years were spent in a non-descript (by New Orleans standards), middle class neighborhood of turn-of-the-century to craftsman style houses. I lived in the very house that my grandfather had grown up in (but the house had been in the family well before he was born). The houses were close and everything we needed was right around the corner. As time passed though, the neighbors we knew moved away, the neighborhood fell into decline, and nearby areas became downright dangerous. Wanting me to grow up in a safer area, my parents’ eyes lit up when casting a glance at the ‘burbs.

We moved to River Ridge, a “Census Designated Place (CDP) in unincorporated Jefferson Parish, LA” as I finished the fourth grade. River Ridge is a sea of residential blocks pushed up against the Mississippi River, just 10 minutes outside of the city, but a world away in charm and attitude. Bound between the small cities of Harahan and Kenner, the only area that wasn’t purely residential was along the major highway that ran parallel to the river, as if it were the spine of the area. 1960’s ranch houses with 30+ foot setbacks stretched out much further than my 10-year old self dared to walk or ride his bike; it wasn’t as if there was anything other than a Taco Bell, a Blockbuster Video, and a drugstore to go to, though. It has all of the charm that one would expect from the moniker of a “Census Designated Place.”

So was my youth completely sheltered from anyplace not a 10 minute drive to a city center? Absolutely not! But, my experience outside the city wasn’t down a dirt road to a farm just outside of small-town-sville. It was instead down a long straight state highway extending to what was, as far as I could tell, the edge of the world – Cocodrie, LA. Cocodrie is a land an occasionally dry place where only a few types venture, Oilmen, recreational fishermen, and Oyster Fishermen. It wasn’t always Cocodrie, but the handful of other places (Ysclocskey, Point a La Hache, Bayou Dularge, and Delacroix were all equally likely destinations) were almost indistinguishable. These are places where a heavy Croation accent is 50 time more likely to be heard than a Southern Drawl. There are few trees, mostly just a strip of asphalt extending out into some marsh grass surrounded by open water. It was a definitively “non-city” experience that involved parking in shell lots and sons taking over their father’s trade, sometimes before High School graduation. It was not “country” though. But maybe this was just because often Louisiana isn’t exactly like the rest of the South… or anywhere.

High School would see me to the city every day, and College would return to it my residence (at least during the school year). For college I wasn’t in the same part of the city that my previous experiences were, instead, I was now living Uptown. I grew to truly appreciate and enjoy uptown, while I was in college; I found an apartment, that I hoped would see me through grad school – there wasn’t any place I would prefer to be. That was late in the summer of 2005; Mother Nature saw to it, that the lease had become void by the beginning of September.

We had a saying in Baton Rouge after Katrina, “New Orleans is the largest city in Baton Rouge.” Baton Rouge, where I sought refuge after Katrina – and stayed for a master’s degree, had already become too big for its britches prior to the 100,000+ evacuated New Orleanians taking up residence within the metro-area. With the metro-area population then (temporarily, Thank God) pushing a million people, Baton Rouge resembled the men’s room in tiger stadium during halftime of the LSU-Bama game. Even prior to the influx of New Orleanian refugees, Baton Rouge had never realized when, somewhere along the line, it ceased to be a small town and be a big city. Once most of the evacuees returned to the New Orleans area, and I moved closer to LSU’s campus, the headache subsided a good bit, and I got to notice those small town elements that lingered in Baton Rouge; some were continued headache (city streets laid out like country roads with no curbs or sidewalks… or room for cars), some confusing (moving from a city with 1 country music radio station to a city with 3 country music TV channels), but others were endearing (meeting a 5’2” girl barely topping 100lbs who drove a Silverado 2500 with mud tires). I made friends that found it inconceivable that I couldn’t name four different country music songs. I saw a guy wearing jeans and camouflage get down on one knee before a girl in jeans and camouflage and propose in the middle of a football game.

In those days after Katrina, we were spread out. Everyone I knew was putting hundreds of miles on his odometer each week. I was all over Southern Louisiana and Mississippi, but by far, my most frequent drive was from Baton Rouge to New Orleans and back. I could drive this stretch of I-10 in my sleep. I think I did a couple of times. With all of this driving, the main roads got very boring, and I decided that the back roads might provide a welcome change of scenery. The fastest route between the two cities that didn’t involve getting on the interstate highways systems was down Airline Highway, AKA US-61. This didn’t really provide for any extra charm or scenery, but did add 45 minutes to the hour long drive. The other option was The Great River Road, a winding meandering drive that follows the Mississippi River past refineries, small river towns, and plantations. The romance is breathtaking; it’s mind-blowing if you make the drive while listening to Benjy Davis Project’s “Sweet Southern Moon.” I would have been very happy if I had truly believed I would end up spending my days out there on River Road.

Graduate School is a fun ride, but it only lasts so long. The next thing you know, you are working as a peon for a large company, getting married and living in a starter home in the “burbs.” One night while driving back to the suburbs, my wife and I decided that it was time to move back to the city. Once we had purchased a house in the City, I recall a coworker asking why we chose to go in town rather than the suburbs, implying that we had made a poor choice. My response surprised me. I told him that I wanted to be in the city, and if I couldn’t do that, then I wasn’t going to stop at the suburbs; I would drive up River Road, and build a house on a large piece of land with no view of my neighbors. I knew, I didn’t want my residence, my lifestyle, or anything about me to quit halfway. Building a house overlooking the Mississippi was very appealing, but ultimately I came to accept how quixotic the notion was, so Uptown New Orleans, once again, became my home.

I identify with the Urban South, but I’ve had my love affair with the Rural South. Both of these faces give the South its defining character. Each has its charming side, but in the end I had to choose, and there really wasn’t a choice to be made.

This series will be continued in part 3 where a discussion of what isn't Southern arises to reveal exactly what is.

The City/Country Dilemma (Part 1)

Ryan Lee Waldron — Tue, 08 May 2012 16:29:39 +0000

As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, I am 100% a city boy. Is that a bad thing? Some would say yes. Does it make me feminine? I would have to whole-heartedly disagree. Am I less manly than someone who grew up in the country? I am, but only if you measure by definition of manliness based on very ignorant precepts (Defining manliness along these terms is probably a bad idea, but it does make for an interesting cranial exercise – Should a man strive to be “Country” or “City” or neither? Or both? Is there something worse than either?). This City-Country distinction is a particularly compelling topic here in the “Land of Cotton.”

The South is a very distinct place. When you are in the South it is clear, if from nothing more than the humidity – but usually from much, much more – that you are not in any other part of the world. It has many faces, but to most outsiders, and even to a large number of southerners, the predominant faces are rural and agrarian. Ag Schools and Alan Jackson, Barbeques and Boucheries, Cowboy Boots and Combines – these are the sort of imagery that most would call to mind when pondering Dixie, but that is not all that the South is. It certainly isn’t the image that I have in my head after spending damned near every day of my 29 years south of the Mason Dixon. What is the image in my head then? Groups of people bedecked in seersucker, having four hour lunches at Galatoire’s; Professors and students ambling ‘neath the Stately Oaks and Arches of the campus of Louisiana State University; relaxing on the white sand beaches that stretch from Gulfport to past Destin; nerds, sleep deprived from hours spent studying for differential equations exams, crossing the interstate in the middle of the night from Georgia Tech to stuff their faces with hotdogs at the Varsity; Charleston's tall homes leering over the waterfront as if they were about to dive in; and a Streetcar rolling past the mansions of the Garden District bound for the high rises of New Orleans' business district.

That is my image of the South, and I am sure I share a similar view with quite a few others, being as the twenty largest cities south of the Mason-Dixon alone have a combined population of more than 50 million people. We, Urban Southerners, may even be the majority down here, and we recognize that our past has many traditions that originate in the agrarian setting, we also realize, and are very proud of, the fact that many of our traditions simply could not have begun anywhere but in an urban setting.

Please stay tuned, for Part 2 of the City/Country Dilemma, where I'll give my background as a means to view my position on the matter.

Costume De Rigueur: The Accessories

Ryan Lee Waldron — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 21:45:30 +0000

What remains for this list is the Accessories. Most are optional, but one set of accessories isn't, gloves

Gloves

White. They MUST be WHITE. Preferably of Kid Leather, but if one is not escorting a lady during the presentation, nylon is acceptable. Gloves are not to be worn while dining, and removal is acceptable while holding a drink.

Hat (Optional)

The proper evening headgear is a silk or badger top hat, and is infact so optional that I've never actually seen anyone wear one. The modern era reserses the use of the cane for those gentlemen that require the assistance of one to walk/stand.

Cloak/Cape (Optional)

Another item that is so optional that I've rarely ever seen one worn is a Cape or Boatcloak. But this may be due to the fact that down here in new Orleans it rarely gets cold enought that the short walk from car to building or building to building ever requires outwear beyond the tailcoat.

Cane (Optional)

A simple black cane with an unornamented gold or silver colored metal handle is the appropriate walking stick for eveningwear.

Pocketwatch/Chain (Optional)

I do occasionally see this one (at least once per white tie event). Gold or silver colored metal (typically matching the color of links and studs. attached to the center button/stud of the waistcoat.