Those button-down drawers with their pudding-bowl do. Fingernails have scratched a placket. The tucks of his weft don't line up. Look, where the stickers were. I wonder what they mentioned, what he harboured behind the stains of that broadcloth belly.
Timber pleats and varnished plackets paneled to the yoke. Dark and tacky from hands grappling for black onyx studs on poplin. Double the wooden warp to weft for an oily grosgrain. Can you do me up? Hapless arms outstretched flapping mitered French cuffs . A yawn of voile yarn for a back panel to stay cool and grim during during cock-a-tails. Perhaps a stiff Windsor collar round the neck of that enamel from Hackett Harvie and Hudson.