If I had a nickel for every time I was asked this question, I would be as rich as people think I am.
When I was growing up, men and boys always wore suits for occasions such as weddings, going to church, parties, funerals etc. It was a matter of respect. Respect for yourself, your family and others. My daughter gets upset with me whenever I go to one of her school functions because I always wear a suit (not pink..Ha!). It is second nature for me to “dress for respect”. This is the way I was brought up. As we all know, when we leave our parent’s influence, we have the tendency to not follow some of the things they insisted upon. This did not happen to me because of an adventure that “superpimped” me forever.
Have you seen the new T.V. show called “Pan Am”? The show depicts the glamour of flying as it used to be. The stewardesses were all gorgeous; the pilots handsome. They wore meticulous uniforms accenting the class of air travel.
As I stated in Chapter I of my bio, my mom was from England. Working 3 jobs, dad saved enough money to fly us to England to meet my grandparents for the first time, when I was 7 years old. Passengers always dressed up to fly, so mom bought a pilot’s suit (uniform) for me to wear on the plane. It was complete with an authentic pilot’s cap. I had worn regular suits before, but this one was “superpimp”!
Starting at the airport, I could see people smiling and pointing at me. As I was boarding the KLM Royal Dutch Airlines plane, I saw more dressed up kids in front of me. The stewardess greeted them cordially. To this day I remember her blonde hair and blue eyes as she saw me. Her face lit up with an angelic smile and said to me: “You are one handsome young man in that suit.”
After everyone was seated, she took me into the cockpit to meet the pilot. Flying was so different before 9/11. He showed me all the instruments and even let me sit in the captain’s chair. What a thrill! However, my biggest thrill was yet to come.
When the plane took off, she took me back to the “galley” and showed me off to the other stewardesses. As I sat in their laps, talking and laughing, my seven year old body started acknowledging feelings I never felt before. I didn’t know what the sensations meant, but I knew I would never be the same again.
The Superpimp Suit Syndrome was born…
Chapter II of the early years, coming soon!
Thanks for stopping by,
