No one’s ever accused Yooper Stewart of having too much style. I often remind him to thank God for his good looks, because his fashion sense attracts the wrong kind of attention. Ninety-nine percent of the time it looks like YS grabbed clothes off the floor in the dark and walks out in whatever he happened to grab.
Would you believe me if I told he you picked that outfit on purpose? One of the most surprising things to me about Yooper Stewart is that he actually likes to make sure his clothes match. The problem: he doesn’t understand what “matches.”
A couple of summers ago, YS walked out of the bedroom in a pair of patchwork shorts (the kind with lots of squares of different colors/plaids sewn together). He’d paired it with a green plaid shirt. His reasoning: they’re both plaids, plaids match.
Two winters ago I tried on an outfit of skinny jeans, nude heels, and a gray sweater with a section of brown/white/tan argile-type patter wrapped around it. He didn’t like it. His reasoning: the nude heels didn’t match any of the colors in the sweater.
Yooper Stewart doesn’t really understand neutrals, so he doesn’t like gray pants with brown sandals (and don’t get him started on the evils of a brown belt and tan boots – brown and tan do not match), but he’ll put together four different camo patterns in one outfit.
His matching obsession doesn’t just affect his wardrobe, though. Our home is also a victim of Yooper Match.
With the recent purchase of a king bed, we’ve made the decision to forgo king sized bedding for dualing twin comforters. We’ve had separate winter covers for a couple of years, and we’re making the full transition this year. Because it’s been so cold here, we haven’t been in a hurry to find new comforters. While at Big Lots, however, Matt noticed a couple of red and gold twin comforters.
“These would totally match our lampshades!”
Seriously? YS wants to buy his bedding based on how well it will match our lampshades? Does he even remember what they look like?
Apparently he does, and apparently exact color matches are as important to our bedroom
as they are for his feet and waistline. I still haven’t figured out how his brain processes the matching-code, but I can’t complain about the house. Midgie seems to enjoy it … and at least it’s not camo.