I See By Your Outfit. . .
I want you to know my uncle through his clothes
I never knew Kalani Durdan as an adult. I never called him by his name. To me, he was Uncle Buddy, and he died when I was 15 years old. I inherited what was left of his wardrobe after his sisters claimed their memories. I first got to know my uncle intimately through his clothes, which he chose with care. He could have worn anything in the world, and he chose this suit and that sweater. I lost much of it in a house fire. Later, I became too large for the rest. What survives is handed down to my sons. My oldest owns the brown leather jacket with the fur collar, though not the one pictured below. My other son owns that duffel.
Now I get to know my uncle through stories from his contemporaries. Jill Charlotte Stanford (no relation) writes today about the choices he made with his clothes, including that inky blue suit that was the first suit I ever owned. I didn’t know my uncle as an adult, but from what I observed as a child, every word of what you’re about to read is true.
by Jill Charlotte Stanford
I can say, without hesitation, that Kalani was the best dressed guy I have ever known. And he managed this without a huge wardrobe. He simply was careful in his selections, almost minimalistic before it was a “thing.”
For casual dress and traveling, it never varied — a pair of well worn but pressed 501 Levi’s, a white button down shirt, (white tee shirt underneath), penny loafers (no socks) and a simple belt. He had in his duffle (yes, a duffle) when he was coming home to Sisters for the Annual Sisters Rodeo, his cowboy boots that were simple “roper” style boots in brown and a western belt.
If it was winter, he had a red puffy jacket, North Face as I recall. Spring through late fall, he had an old, thick wool black blazer. He always found a flower of some sort to put in the button hole — once, on a walk in the woods with me, it was a tiny pinecone. A muffler was packed. Gloves, too. And a beige wool cabled pull-over sweater that appeared in Oxford, England when he surprised me by coming for a few days. He wore a rep tie with it. Paired with the Levi’s and standby white Oxford shirt . . . well! It could not have been more stylish. Heads turned!
For evening or formal wear, he had one suit and a tuxedo. The suit was bespoke and a shade of blue I have never seen before or since — not navy, more like “ink.” Single breasted. A selection of colorful silk ties and the color of the shirt underneath was always impeccable white. Black, laced shoes, no perforations.
I think he was best in a tuxedo, and that was a perk for his formal wear advertisements — he got to keep the tux! He looked like every woman’s dream date, or groom, in a tux.
Kalani was our son Charlie’s honorary Big Brother all through the years. When Charlie was in college in Colorado, he was asked to be an escort to a fancy debutant ball in Dallas, Texas. Tuxedo required.
Kalani was on it! He sent Charlie a tuxedo, the black vest, plus the shirt (fortunately, I had my grandfathers studs and cufflinks) and the black tie which was to be hand-tied. Clip on was, of course, simply out of the question. When we opened this box, we were stunned, and surprised and when I called him, he said, “Every man needs to have a tuxedo.” To this day, I will never know how he got the measurements just right.
The best part of this gift was when the mother of the Deb called me and said how thrilled she was that our son was coming from Oregon to to escort her daughter (can you hear the Texas accent?) and did she need to rent a tuxedo for Charlie? I answered, calmly, “No, thank you. He has his own.”
How Kalani laughed and laughed when I relayed this conversation (complete with Texas accent), and he said, “See? Didn’t I say every guy has to have a tuxedo?”
I know that he had a bathing suit. He had white pants and immaculate tennis shoes and simple white tee shirts for hot summer days. I often wondered how he managed to keep those white tee shirts not looking like he drove a truck. The fit, I suppose?
How did I know he had a bathing suit? After we moved from the Big City to a place in the country, along with my horses, Kalani was very thrilled about that move. I would see him often at the Lake Oswego Hunt Club where his little sister rode and he was an “chauffeur and baby-sitter.” I’d trailer in to ride and we always fell into conversation.
I asked if he would like to come out for the afternoon and then have dinner with us? He accepted immediately. I asked if he would be interested in riding the horses down to the Pudding River for a swim as well? Yes, he would!
He arrived in those Levi’s and white shirt and sock-less loafers. We were dressed almost identically. I had my bathing suit on under my Levi’s and shirt. I wondered is he was going to swim in the Levi’s?
On the way to the river, we rode, bareback, through a lovely pasture covered in Camomile and Chicory flowers. At one point, he leaned WAY over his horses back and came up with one of those blue flowers and handed it to me, saying, “This is the exact color of your eyes.” Yes. I know I was then, at that moment, and still am, in love with him for his charm and gracious person.
When we got to the river, he took off the Levi’s to reveal a simple dark navy swim suit. Gosh but we had fun splashing sound, soaking wet. He rode like an Indian, a complete natural. We dried off simply by sitting on the bank while the horses grazed and then dressed, a bit damply, and remounted. He asked, “Isn’t there an ice cream stand in your small town?” There was and we rode to it and by God if he didn’t have a $5 bill in his pants pocket. Truly, he thought of everything. I don’t think that stand ever had, before or since, a ride-through order and the young girl who took the order from him for two chocolate cones was completely smitten on the spot. (This happened all the time as I observed through the years. It really had nothing to do with his good looks - it was his smile and his real interest in the other person, no matter who.)
The day ended with Charlie home from school and Roger home from work — neither one of them had met him before and they, along with me, became his Devoted Fan Club. We still are.
We speak of Kalani often. We miss him terribly. Still. He was, without a doubt, the most genuine and caring individual I have ever known. He was dazzlingly beautiful inside and out. No guile at all.
When she’s not sharing memories of my uncle, Jill Charlotte Stanford writes for and about cowgirls. Her other piece about Kalani Durdan was “Stories of My Uncle.” You can find her cowgirl writing at jillcharlotte.com.
What do you think of today's email? I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions and feedback. I might even put ‘em in the newsletter if I don’t steal it outright.
Enjoying this newsletter? Forward to a friend! They can sign up here. Unless of course you were forwarded this email, in which case you should…
Swimsuit season’s coming. Try Noom, and you’ll quickly learn how to change your behavior and relationship with food. This app has changed my life. Click on the blue box to get 20% off. Seriously, this works.
We set up a merch table in the back where you can get T-shirts, coffee mugs, and even tote bags now. Show the world that you’re part of The Experiment.
We’ve also got a tip jar, and I promise to waste every cent you give me on having fun, because writing this newsletter for you is some
Forget the Alamo: The Rise and Fall of the American Myth by Bryan Burrough, Chris Tomlinson, and myself is out from Penguin Random House. There is no better way to support this book than to order a copy.