Withering Glance: Friends don't let friends display nose hairs

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

CP: Hey, amigo. Loved your restaurant review last week. Oh, and by the way, you still have a tiny bit of spinach from Del Brizzio stuck in your teeth.

RN: You're a true friend. No sarcasm there, truly. I appreciate it when pals pull me aside and, despite any potential awkwardness, rectify embarrassing situations.

CP: Not me. The other day you mentioned that I'd missed a loop with my Paul Smith belt. Then you piled on, adding that I had left a shirt button undone.

RN: But you looked so nice. I would have wanted to know.

CP: My wardrobe-malfunction shame was so acute that I had to go home early. What may a friend safely tell another friend?

RN: You're asking me? I was raised Lutheran, which means that my blanket guide to interpersonal issues is "mind your own business."

RN: Besties have much greater latitude, yes. Acquaintances and strangers don't have that kind of if-you-love-me-you'd-tell-me responsibility, which explains why I keep my trap shut when, say, the aroma from a gym buddy's workout gear demands immediate contact with some industrial-strength Tide.

CP: I hear you, but a critique from a best bud also can make a guy wonder: How long has he been wanting desperately to give me that "feedback" regarding my cologne?

RN: Probably forever. But we won't go there. And by "we," I mean, passive-aggressive Minnesotans.

CP: Many people would go to their graves before telling even a great friend about his giant BO problem.

RN: I don't care how sixth-grade this makes me sound, I still crack up at the mention of "BO."

RN: I swear, your mother promised me that you found "Claudette" amusing.

CP: But do I say anything? Nah, letting it slide is no biggie.

RN: That's magnanimous of you. Please vow that you'll be a friend and give me timely earlobe hair alerts, or tell me if I have a hundred yards of Cottonelle stuck to my shoe.

CP: Believe me, I will. But those are easy ones to bring up. It's those baby steps to left or right that can strain a friendship forever.

RN: No kidding. One mention of my proliferation of Dreaded Lower Back Fat, and you're dead to me.