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Marco Island, Florida is a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico, linked to the coastal city of Naples by way of a bridge. A popular vacation destination for retirees and families alike, the island boasts beautiful beaches, family friendly bars and grills, and generally speaking, a laid-back atmosphere that you won’t find in Miami or Ft. Lauderdale.
Dubbed simply “Marco” by the tourists and retirees who flock there to escape unforgiving March weather in the Midwest and on the East Coast, the island is a little slice of paradise in an otherwise unimpressive state.
Florida as a whole is a cesspool and I don’t think that’s even a reach to say. The sunshine state is sort of like Eastern Europe in that it’s year-round inhabitants are ruthless, devoid of human emotion, and more than likely addicted to Krokodil.
But not Marco. The island holds a place near and dear to my heart. From age five all the way up until my tenth or eleventh birthday, the highlight of my year was going there for a week or two and either swimming in the pool attached to my condo or in the ocean just 100 feet away from my sliding back door.
My parents would rent a condo overlooking the beach for two weeks. I’d pound grenadine-cokes and eat chicken tenders every single day poolside without a care in the world. The average age of a person living or vacationing in Marco Island is mid-50s if I had to guess, but as a youth, the only thing I really cared about was swimming in the ocean and playing 500 with other kids I’d meet on the beach.
As far as partying on vacation goes, I grew out of the “let’s go the beach and blackout” phase of my life after I graduated college, which is why in just one weeks time I’ll be back on my old stomping grounds after a nearly fifteen-year hiatus.
I’ve been working 60 hour weeks for a month and have been looking forward to March 21st for what seems like an eternity. My recently retired father has gotten his hands on a beachfront condo for a month, and all I want to do is sip beers poolside and then head to Jack’s Lookout at night to do more drinking.
When I went shopping last Saturday on the hunt for lightweight clothing that I could wear on Marco Island, I didn’t think that I would find myself considering women’s blouses. But guess what? It happened. I am now the proud owner of this thing:
The primary goal of my shopping spree last weekend was to find articles of clothing that would breathe in the hot Florida sun. This blouse meets that standard and it’s stylish to boot.
I can wear it to the pool or on the beach as a cover-up and, because I’m a fan of keeping that beachy smell on me after a day out in the sun, I don’t even have to take this blouse off when I go to the bar at night.
I’m literally packing this blouse, a pair of swim trunks, one pair of khakis in case I go to dinner somewhere nice, one pair of khaki shorts, and a shaving kit with toiletries. I’m going completely minimalist in terms of packing for this week-long trip, and I couldn’t be more excited about the fact that this blouse is what I’ll be wearing all week. I can wear it tucked, untucked, and buttoned or unbuttoned. I’ve got a thick mustache and flowing locks, which I’m hoping will subconsciously remind people of this:
If you’re in Marco Island next week, hit a brother up. I’ll most likely be in a bathing suit and women’s blouse living my best life, laughing maniacally at all of the people who are going to be unreasonably upset by this column and by what I’m wearing. .
Image via Uniqlo
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
We’re not upset, we just don’t give a shit.
Yeah, Kelso was doing this forty years ago, anyway.
I’m actually not surprised at all. In fact, I’m shocked it’s taken you so long to get to this level.
You gotta understand, breast surgery is expensive and he hasn’t met his deductible yet for bottom surgery to be covered.
I’m less upset by the women’s clothing aspect and more upset at the fact that you are packing one shirt for a week.
I also would not qualify that shirt as a “blouse”
That shirt is absolutely a blouse.
IDontCare.
You’re a real straight shooter with middle management written all over ya
The only possible explanation for buying that shirt instead of a classic Columbia PFG is to tell all of us you’re wearing a women’s shirt.
It’s almost like Duda does all this shit for attention.
Think he’s an only child?
Well, he has a hot sister so no.
If you wear a pfg shirt there is a 100% chance you have zero fashion sense
username does NOT check out
What if it’s for what the name entitles?
I’m actually offended that there are still gender classifications for apparel. We need to establish a unisex clothing standard where everyone wears the same thing in the same color everyday in order to exemplify the current obvious situation we are living in which is a oligopolic-dictatorship disguised as a democracy with brightly colored branding and smiley faces lol
Alphas wear gray, Betas wear mulberry, Gammas wear green, Deltas khaki, and Epsilons in black.
^brave new world reference going right over the downvoters’ heads.
Having to point out your highbrow comment is a little trashy, but I still laffed and upvoted. I sort of picture Duda as a skinnier “Confederacy of Dunces” character.
All I can picture is that episode of the office where Michael wears a women’s suit.
Sometimes you see a “Missterious” suit in the sale bin and you just need to have it. Can’t knock the hustle
I mean, certainly a weird move but you do you. It’s 2018 after all.
The problem isn’t what you wear, the problem is the shrill cries for attention that what you wear represents.
It’s ok if you want to dress like a woman. We all support you and are happy for you.
This isn’t even a brand pivot for you Duda