City Paper is not for tourists
I’ve never met Lucky Levenson, but this morning I added his name and wizened image to my mental roster of surrogate father figures. Am I so desperate (at my age?) for male role models that I’ll take any old man, willy-nilly? Yes, but that’s not why I added Lucky. I added Lucky because he is the star of the Internet’s most useful how-to video: How to tie a bow tie.
I was feeling decadent this morning after a luke-warm shower and a plate piled high with cinnamon pancakes, and where I’m from, nothing says decadent like archaic neckwear. It just so happens I have a dresser drawer packed to the dovetails with bow ties that I have not worn prior to today, the unintended consequence of sporting a pre-tied bow tie for years without letting people know it wasn’t the real deal. And because I couldn’t admit mine was a fake, I made up excuses: “I don’t have anything to match it”; “I’m saving it for a special occasion”; “It’s Ramadan”; and, “Look over there.” But the bow ties kept coming. Why? My guess is that bow ties are fun to buy because many of them are so ugly that they circle around and become cute, and because I kept making really good excuses.
And then this morning, I put an end to the charade. “You’ve been living a neckwear lie,” I screamed.
“Who are you talking to?” My girlfriend asked.
“Get out of my head!” I yelled back.
Somehow, in the midst of my internal struggle, I found Lucky. (The truth: I googled “bow tie porn” with safe search on.) I watched his video once and knew I had found one of several long-distance digital soul mates. Lucky is the clothing salesman of my dreams: he possesses deft fingers, a gentle southern loll, patience. His gift to me and approximately 177,186 other men is the confidence to wear real bow ties, and to tie them ourselves.