Stylish

Yesterday I missed my writers’ meet-up due to 25-plus inches of snow, which I had to dig myself out of. Here is the story I wrote with the theme: Style. The question is… what makes the man? Read and judge for yourself.

When Hudson dressed to the nines, he created visual elegance. In a city of monotonous suits, he was a splash of intentional coloration. For him, style was never about fashion, but more about the architecture of self-expression.

Hudson stood before a mirror, adjusting a vintage silk scarf that complemented his power tie. It wasn’t about famous brand labels or the expensive price tags associated with his wardrobe. It was about the way the burnt orange played against the charcoal wool of his coat. Style, he believed, was the residue of one’s personality. Style acted as a form of non-verbal communication and reinforced self-esteem.

As he stepped onto a rain-slicked pavement, he moved with the ease of a man who knew exactly who he was. People stared, not because he was loud, but because he was confident. Every choice, from the silver signet ring inherited from a grandfather he never met to the scuffed leather boots that had taken him to three continents, told the story of a man with a power mindset.

“Nice suit,” a passerby called out, a compliment meant for the man in the attire. “May I take a picture of you for my Instagram page?” another called out.

Hudson simply nodded, with a small smile playing on his lips. This happened daily, as people were drawn to his approachable demeanor. He knew the truth: the suit was just a vessel. Real style is the courage to be recognizable in the dark. It is the ability to express creativity without words.