The Rear End

How Not to Wear a Scarf

if there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s unnecessary neckwear

Mike Paulus, illustrated by Kaitlyn Bryan |

Are you, dear reader, a wearer of scarves? I’m not talking to you practical Wisconsinites out there who wrap up your neck against Old Man Winter’s bitter teeth. And I’m not talking to all you belly dancers out there with your shear swathes of silk draped about your body. I’m talking to those of you people who wear scarves purely for their decorative appeal.

But I’m not talking to all of you stylish ladies out there who treat scarves like big, puffy necklaces. No, I’m talking to the fellas. Specifically, the fellas wearing a nice knit scarf with a T-shirt. No jacket. No hat. Just a scarf and a T-shirt. In the summertime.

Let’s be clear about this. I will never wear a scarf with a T-shirt unless there is a nice, warm jacket to separate the two. I do not enjoy how it looks on me. And neither would you.

What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, what are you doing over there dressed like that? You can’t be cold – you’re wearing a V-neck T-shirt and it’s over 80 degrees outside. Your scarf is so loose that your neck is receiving absolutely zero of the benefits scarves were invented to provide.

It’s a free country but ... you make my eyeballs spasm.

Perhaps a more important question is, “Why does this bother me so much?” Clearly, the whole scarf/T-shirt crisis is one that rests squarely within my own cranium and has absolutely no importance whatsoever. But clearly, I am very annoyed. By scarves. I’m sure I have better things about which to be annoyed, and I should probably spend my mental power on learning to not be so annoyed by stuff in the first place, but I’ll make an exception for scarves and T-shirts, because together they are ridiculous.

Let’s be clear about this. I will never wear a scarf with a T-shirt unless there is a nice, warm jacket to separate the two. I do not enjoy how it looks on me. And neither would you.

But let’s back up. As one look at my wardrobe will handily confirm, I do not spend much time worrying about my clothing. I like to be comfortable. So who am I to question the fashionable practices of my fellow man? I’m no one, really, and I have no business saying what someone else should or should not be wearing. Not because it’s just not cool, but because I’ve got no game. I look like I get dressed every morning simply by pulling on whatever shirt happens to be at the top of my shirt pile on any given day. I look this way because that is exactly what I do.

However, I will confidently proclaim to you all that the T-shirt/scarf combo will never have a place in my arsenal of apparel. Like gravity and the sun above, it’s just an ancient and unshakable truth – you must be utterly insane to wear that crap.

Why am I writing about this? I’m honestly not sure. I guess, because scarf season is upon us? We’re on the threshold of Autumn – the time for scarves. And jackets. And hats. And jeans. And pumpkin spice cinnamon apple caramel coffee bread cake pops or whatever. ’Tis the season, man.

I’ve always been very upfront about my affection for the season of Autumn. If I could control the weather, I wouldn’t use my unprecedented supernatural powers to destroy my enemies or manipulate the world’s economy to my benefit or impress my wife’s family. After ending a few droughts here and there, I’d pretty much just make it Fall all the time. We’d get some snow in December followed by a quick Spring and a few weeks of Summer. Then months and months of gloriously crisp Autumn, full of gusty winds peppered with golden leaves and at least two Halloweens. Blazing blue skies in the daytime, mysteriously dark skies at night.

I promise you this – once I can control the weather and I’ve fully implemented Forever Autumn, then and only then can you wear a scarf with a T-shirt. Because then it will be chilly outside and it will finally, finally make sense.