I have been accused of being a clothes horse. Of course I am not. When the word is tossed out by someone they are usually referring one of those things you hang clothes on. The people that accuse me of being a clotheshorse are speaking figuratively and that figurative language refers to individuals who are particular about the clothes he or she wears. If you look up the word clotheshorse (one word) you may get something like this: Figurative usage of the word: clotheshorse: Used figuratively, the single-word term clotheshorse describes men and women who are passionate about clothing and always appear in public dressed in the latest styles. From 1850 the term referred to a male fop or female quaintrelle, a person whose main function is, or appears to be, to wear or show off clothes. In this context, the term is similar to "fashion plate," which originally referred to a lithograph illustration of fashionable clothing in a book or magazine. This neither is me. Those folks who have accused me of being a clotheshorse are close family and a few close friends. What they mean, I’m sure, is that I’m particular about the clothes I buy and wear. I think most men are somewhat particular about the clothes they like and choose to wear. I will admit to being particular. Never in all my work experience have I been able to afford expensive clothes although I did subscribe to Gentlemen’s Quarterly. That doesn’t mean I would wear anything. I had a brother in law who worked in the beer industry, up in the executive echelons i.e. Manager of International Marketing; Marketing Manager for the Southern United States. He was in a hotel room in France and called in a Taylor. He picked out materials for three suits, chose the styles, along with seven shirts, three or four ties, some socks, and a couple of pairs of shoes he ask the Taylor to pick up for him. A few dollars short of six thousands bucks. This was not the first time. He did this he said every time he was promoted. That’s not me. I couldn't afford such behavior and wouldn't ivf I could. But I never did want family buying me gifts of clothes, say for Father’s Day or birthdays. If I was going to wear them out in public I wanted to pick them out. I always accepted a gift graciously but I wouldn’t wear them except around the house.The only time I had clothes Taylor made was when I was in the military. I had some uniforms and shirts made. I wore my shirts with three creases down the back and to this day I want a sharp crease in my pants. In my early married years my wife could not iron to suit me. I either ironed myself or sent the clothing out to be laundered and given a good press. I’ve set up the ironing board in a clean, well lighted space in the garage so I can give everything I keep good press job. Yesterday my roommate cleaned out the garage. I mean she gave it a cleaning, threw a bunch of stuff away, gave our son some tools and other stuff. I told her to save me a brown paper sack (grocery sack). The morning I pulled all my wrangler jeans out of my closet, folded them and pun them the brown paper sack. I took a couple of shirts off the rack and put them in a donation box, couple pairs of good shoes. I’m retired; I’m downsizing. Now I was never a clotheshorse. Although every time I look at something on line or in a store, I hear, ‘hey clotheshorse, do we need that?' Like last night, I was looking at the product on the online suspenders store. “Don’t you have four or five suspenders in your drawer,” the voice behind me is asking? “Only four,” I say, “but, I’ve always admired Larry King so I’m getting two more.” The truth is I’ve lost weight. Most of my clothes hang a little loose on me. If I was working I’d replace them but an old retired guy can wear most anything as they have a good crease, the shirts ironed just so and the shoes have a good shine. Oh, and I got rid of all those baseball caps and ‘give me’ caps I’ve kept for years. So, as anyone can plainly see I’ve been accused unjustly all these years about my clothes. Even if I wanted I couldn’t afford to be an old clotheshorse, just an old fool.