Did I mention that Frank wears black?
A lot of black.
The exception? The day he got a hair cut he wore a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a blue flannel shirt, to be "different." People noticed.
He lives in 2 pairs of black jeans and 1 pair of black shorts. He has one white Korn t-shirt. The rest of his mostly black t-shirts come from concerts. Or the "What On Earth" catalog. I haven't done "back to school" shopping for him since he's been in high school because he never wants anything.
(I'm not a totally neglectful mother. I have purchased required clothing for the People to People trips: plain shirts and khaki pants. I make sure he has socks and underwear.)
Today, he finally decided he needed a new pair of black jeans. Because the wallet pocket has ripped out. Trying to foster some independence, I suggested he look at a local western-type store (the only menswear available in the 5 small towns in my area) or at the Mervyn's 20 miles (at least $6 in gas) away. Uh... no. He politely asked if I would please order him some pants on the internet.
What size? He wanted them a little longer than the last pair. You'll have to measure your inseam, I said. Stick the tape measure up into your crotch (because I'm not going to!) and hold it there. I'll stretch it down to your ankle.
OK, he's sized. And I searched. Cheap black jeans, you'd think they'd be all over the net but they weren't. Then I found a $20 pair on Amazon (my love) with free shipping (my even greater love). Bingo. Arriving Thursday. Did I mention I love Amazon?