My First Real Suit

First off, I’m going to give my props to my fellow e-Pimps out there. Many of them helped motivate me to be the person that I am today and since you’ll find all kind of shout-outs on this site, I won’t waste space naming names. Except one. With respect to this post in particular, I think there is no other Pimp except Michael Porfirio Mason aka The People’s Champ, who keeps a fresh perspective over at

His near single minded pursuit of promoting custom suits as the ultimate form of style for any and all aspiring Pimps has been like a cool ocean breeze on a warm summers day down in La Jolla, CA. It’s something every man knows at his very core, but has been deluded into doubting by the powers that be. Now personally, I would be embarrassed to ever wear an Affliction T-shirt, a Ralph Lauren Polo shirt, or a plain white T 5 times too big for my frame.

How have I survived without killing myself then, considering my unique upbringing which puts me in the target audience for all these styles, and the fact that almost all of my peers fall into one of these categories?

Simple. I make fun of guys my age, including those I roll with at times. I don’t pretend to accept it. I tell them straight up that it’s ridiculous. I only roll with the type of guys who can take straight criticism, guys guys, which are an endangered species these days. Still, the fact that these guys fall prey to the trends of today even more proves to me the depths to which we have fallen as a gender.

Before I lose track, back to the subject at hand. The truth is, you need real money to dress nice and rise up above the trends. And that is true for a reason. Nice clothes reflects real wealth. So, how have I, an indebted college student without a trust fund, afforded these clothes? Simple. Hard work, finding sources, looking in places no one else looks. Even with all this work, I still only buy new clothes rarely, and treat it as an investment.

I’ve had suits before. The type you wear to weddings on a student’s budget, the type you wear to job interviews, etc. You know, the men’s warehouse, typical boring, lame stuffy suits everyone hates to wear but must.

Today I bought my first real suit. Custom made. However, I didn’t have it made custom. I found it on a rack, alongside hundreds of pieces of shit. It just so happened to be a diamond among nothing but cookie-cutter lumps of coal. Best of all? It fit perfectly. Basically, I won the lottery today. While it is not an $8000 suit, I know that once I take it to a tailor, I will look better in it than 99.9% of other men I will ever see while wearing it. And for $35, you can see why I won the lottery today. What I found takes more than money to buy. As a young pimp, acquiring a suit like that requires a lifestyle and connections that I won’t have access to until the next level of success in my life.

This suit is my first step towards that next level. Time to celebrate.

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