For some of us, dressing business casual requires cunning: furtive trips to thrift stores, combing H&M for something that doesn’t make you look like you play bass for the Raconteurs. The good stuff, however, is 25 miles south of here, tucked away in a dim corner of sweaty Potomac Mills, where two bills recently bought me six shirts, a sharp powder-blue V-neck sweater, a natty textured tie, and something that my receipt calls a “New Dawson.” I have no idea what that is—pants, maybe?—but I’m sure I don’t look poor in it! Bonus for any man insecure about his sexuality—this is one Banana Republic where you won’t be the only straight guy.