Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Tie Hoarding

My husband Calvin recently got a new suit. When he tried it on for me, he was discussing which ties he should wear with the suit. Apparently, a new tie would be best, but he’d settle for one he already owned. I pointed out that he probably was unaware of how many ties he had that would match the suit because his ties were a jumble. I suggested there could be less tie chaos if he disposed of superfluous ties. Out of 31 ties, surely some were unnecessary.

We then discussed which ties were superfluous. He mentioned the neon blue tie. I agreed that it was extraneous (secretly hoping said tie could be tossed into the garbage). He said it was superfluous only because I hated it—he liked it. I told him it looked like a tie that would be worn in South Central Los Angeles. He said that gang members didn’t wear ties. Hmmm. That’s probably true. I changed the subject.

Next we came to the Jackson Pollock muted. Basically it’s a blackish tie with random splotches of gray and white. I said, “This one goes.” Cal said, “Absolutely.” I dropped the tie into the trash can next to his desk.

Cal said: Why did you do that?

Me: Because “it goes” into the trash.

Cal: I meant “it goes” with the suit, i.e. it matches.

Me, non-plussed: Oh, sorry. (I made no move to retrieve the tie.)

Cal retrieved it.

We ended up not getting rid of a single tie. Sigh. I think Cal’s a tie hoarder. I’ve only ever been able to get rid of three ties (in 22 years of marriage). One was a knit tie from the early eighties—scary. The other was a faux stained glass window tie (a gift) and the third tie was Christmas themed and had a button that when pushed would play “We wish you a Merry Christmas.” (Even Cal could see the wisdom in getting rid of that tie.) That’s three ties out of 34. I wonder if there’s twelve step program for tie hoarding...


  1. My husband has a tie with a trombone on it. And several really unfortunate early 90s numbers. I just buy him new ties and slowly move the old ones into the Goodwill bin.

  2. Papa refuses to get rid of (or wear, incedentaly) his bugs bunny tie.

  3. I laughed when you both agreed "it goes" and had completely different meanings of those words. That's Venus and Mars in a nutshell. Ain't marriage grand? My husband has only one tie, his first, he got from me for Father's Day. Since our sons are preachers, I figured it wouldn't hurt him. He, like a certain book character I know, thinks ties are "nooses". Everyone loved it but he hasn't worn it since. So, at least no hoarding.

  4. Well, at least ties don't take up much space, right? Right. :)

  5. Elana,

    True, ties don't take up too much room. But our closet belongs in a doll's house--that's what you get with an old house. 70 years ago people didn't own nearly as many clothes.

  6. Hmmm, I've only got 21 ties. I need to catch up!

  7. I love my endangered species ties, mostly tigers, lions, eagles, and wolves.

    Silly thing is that I haven't worn a tie in five years. But I cannot get rid of them. There are good memories that go with each tie. To throw away those ties would be to throw away those memories.

    Does that make me a romantic?