A man and his beret

To approach a gentleman old enough to be my grandfather, you need to have an additional commitment. I put on my most angelic smile and I try to speak with the same tone as I used to ask good looking girls to get my group of young and desperate boys inside of exclusive nightclubs. However, this little effort always pays back. A man this age has a charm that no other can have. On ¾ of the times that a Portuguese man wears a suit, he does it with a plain shirt and tie (I’m so convinced of this ratio that I’m almost tempted to believe there’s a scientific study behind this). Except for the concept man that wears black over white shirt, I just don’t understand this sadness and boredom. However, those that were born before the Spanish Civil War seem to have the necessary self-esteem and relaxation to wear checkers jackets, handkerchiefs, lots of stripes and berets.
I’m forced to wear coat and tie 5 days a week, and I got used to look up to these gentlemen with respect. Half of my jackets have a pattern that could be used as a board game, most of my shirts and ties have stripes, I have a few handkerchiefs of my own (for which I never found the right occasion) but the beret… I simply can’t. But I wish I could…