It shouldn’t matter. I AM a professor. I mean if anyone is going to be wearing tweed and carrying a leather satchel it may as well be me (or you) right? But there I find myself. Clad in tweed staring at a perfectly useful bag gathering dust in my closet. Why this combo of tweed and leather connotes the ultimate “Professor Uniform” to me I do not know. Well, sure I do- the media. Sorry, stupid question. But why do I find it so impossible to put on this particular uniform? I must conform to countless stereotypes in countless ways but the leather satchel packed with books slung over a tweedy shoulder? I just can’t do it. I am totally happy to be associated with tweed, but you add that one little detail and in my mind there I am in my Professor Uniform. It just doesn’t fit right, or maybe it fits too well, it’s confining, it’s comfortable, it’s sexy, it’s comfortable in a ratty t-shirt that should never be worn in public kind of way, it’s accomplished, or is it prideful? It represents both a goal and a warning. It should really just go live in the extra closet with the rest of my luggage.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
I have a brown leather briefcase thing, it’s really more like a satchel. I rarely use it. Why? Because I like tweed jackets. What’s the connection you ask? Well, once clad in tweed the addition of a brown leather satchel instantly makes me conscious of becoming a walking stereotype. I mean really, I may as well add a pipe to the look. A bottle of scotch in the lower desk drawer, some chalk dust on my hands, crazy eyebrows, glasses in my pocket, an office reminiscent of a natural history museum…damn. It’s bad enough I like tweed. Shit.