Can fly fisherman really survive for long in a the “regular” world – an unnatural habitat where fashion still exists and people sometimes dress in other than rubber pants and vented shirts?

Tomorrow morning, our little family leaves for a weekend at a secret location: a place where it’s warm, there are no trout (save those found in plastic wrap), and yes – there is a dress code.

A “resort casual” dress code.

Fly fishermen don't know from fashion

Uh, is this Resort Casual? Because really, I'm lost here.

Sure, I’m an award-winning copywriter, a top fly fishing blogger and the investigative genius behind this Pulitzer-winning* expose of fly fishing’s effect on the fashion industry, yet despite my humble nature, I truly have no idea what “resort casual” looks like.

After all, I’m the guy who decided to take the guesswork out of getting dressed every morning by ordering a dozen army surplus t-shirts in (Coyote Tan & Olive Drab) and four pairs of Dickies work jeans, and simply wearing those every day.

Einstein figured wearing the same suit every day removed one more distraction from his brain, and given the generally low wattage powering me these days, one less decision sounds pretty good.

If it’s good enough for one of mankind’s greatest minds, then it’s good enough for me.

But I hadn’t counted on those cursed words: “Resort Casual.”

Compounding the problem is this: not since tweed jackets and wicker creels were the norm have fly fishermen been accused of being natty dressers. In fact, a careful analysis of fly fishing’s photo stream forces a rather different conclusion.

Unless pastel or earth-tone vented shirts – fully equipped with floatant stains and the oily remnants of lunch – are now considered haute couture, fly fishermen look to be largely slobs.

I won’t pretend I’m better than the rest of fly fishing (in this one instance), though I don’t often wear vented shirts differentiating myself from the rest of the herd and increasing my profile among the hordes of groupies crowding the rivers and fly shops.

In truth, I’d come to believe that living in the shadow of Mt. Shasta – a mountain big enough to house an entire race of aliens (the lemurians) – protected me from the dangerous trend rays which contaminate less-shielded urban folks.

And frankly, I was happy with the situation (army surplus t-shirts are only 3 for $15), but have now come face to face with “Resort Casual.”

I’m lost.

And in a fit of public service, I’m going to help the Undergrounders avoid my sorry fate.

First, must I point out this mess is the byproduct of a non-fly fishing related trip?

I didn’t think so.

Which leads us to Important Fly Fishing Rule For Dealing With The Rest of the World Which Doesn’t Fly Fish #7:

#7: Never, ever leave home unless fly rods are involved. (Or the shooting range. Or a trail. Or some other dirt-related activity.)

We’ll go over the rest of the rules when I get back.

See you rummaging through my closet, Tom Chandler.

(*Not a Pulitzer winner)

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