Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.
CP: A friend who is my age recently got married. It was the second time around for him and his new spouse. It was fascinating to see their marriage-aged children in supporting roles, instead of being piloted down the aisle themselves.
RN: I’m sure it was all lovely, blah blah blah. The most important question is, what was the happy couple wearing?
CP: Walter was in the first suit I had ever seen him wear. The middle-aged bride looked great in a short dress. Black. With glittery silver pumps.
RN: Here’s hoping that the bride does not see herself described as “middle-aged.”
CP: OK, how about “Katie Couric-vintage bride”?
RN: Better. Two great friends of mine — one is 61, the other 58 — were hitched by then-Mayor R.T. Rybak at City Hall last year, a few minutes after same-sex marriage became legal in Minnesota. This newspaper labeled them “middle-aged,” which is synonymous with “almost geriatric.” I still think of them as late 30s, but then again, I still think of myself as late 30s.
CP: Which prompts me to recall your own, one-foot-in-the-grave nuptials. So kind of you to draft an attendant even more elderly than yourself. It was with great pride and a decent amount of agility that I carried your satin train.
RN: It was peau de soie. I’m grateful that you were there, and I look forward to returning the favor. Just don’t ask me to sing, “We’ve Only Just Begun.”