Click-A-Closet: One Stop Wardrobe Shopping

Consider, o gentlemen, the advantages of a new, not-quite-personal shopping service specifically designed for the fellows who want the cut and feel of a new suit or two but are beyond hopeless in their ability to aquire said threads for themselves: http://www.clickacloset.com/.

The gist is simple – “tell us your sizes and pick out a wardrobe package that best represents the style of dress at your work.” There are currently six packages to choose from: Casual, Business Casual, Business Casual Plus, Business Dress, Business Suits, and The Interview. Within these parameters are half-orders, something called ‘One Day’ options, seasonal selections, and refresher packages for the suit that has a fallen soldier (e.g. your shoes finally gave out, the slacks got hosed at the cleaners, etc)

They take all the guesswork out of what some feel is a very personal expression and aquisition process—all you really need is a tape measure and a bunch of money. If all you need is a belt and you’re for some insane reason unable to purchase one out for yourself, they can supply; if you need a full wardrobe, they can do this as well.

Prices range from $45 for a single belt, to $1780 for two business suits, and nearly every comprehensible variation in-between.

I’m chagrined. When I’ve got the kind of dosh to throw at a new suit or two, the last thing I want to do is buy without considering the look and feel of the material, the cut of the trousers, the drape of the jacket. But then again, I love to shop. Love it.

Whereas some gentlemen will make time for a tension-relieving round of golf, I’ll make time to hunt aggressively for a new coat. I imagine that both experiences are equally satisfying, depending on the performance in the field. Some folks come to NYC and want to be squired around by their local friends to all the sights and the best restaurants; mine invariably want to be taken to the best places for shoes and the like.

Am I such an anomoly in that I view the clothes I choose to wear in public to be a thing that represents who I am? Just as a painter shouldn’t have his assistant select which colors he uses, nor should a man have someone they haven’t even met select his shoes. I am chagrined and appalled about this service; your clothes are an immensely personal choice, and this is the style equivalent of cheating.

I’m reminded of a president who delivers a speech he didn’t write, reading it for the first time off of the teleprompter. Yes, it gets the message out, but I don’t trust that the message is necessarily authentic.

I know that other men, even fine men, will disagree; there is much to speak in favor of this sort of shopping experience. I refuse to entertain such notions, but I invite you to try.