As happens every few years, I've grown weary of the frumpy, dumpy guy I'm seeing in the mirror (that's me), so I decided in 2010 I've got to get my act together. When I go to Perimeter Mall, a mall in one of Atlanta's nicer neighborhoods, I notice that everyone, even the food court workers, has a clean, pressed, well-rested appearance. People at Town Center Mall, in my more working-class neighborhood, tend to look tired, creased and frazzled, and unfortunately I fit right in. This year I started listening to the music of The Smiths, and I decided that Morrissey does a good job of dressing hip, yet suitable to his age. Plus he's gay (it's rumored) so whatever he wears must be up-to-the-minute and in vogue.

So I printed out a picture of Morrissey and took it to the barber shop. The stylist asked me if I really wanted my hair like that, because it sure seemed to stick up a lot on top. I quickly realized that having a hairdo exactly like Morrissey's wasn't going to happen for me because, although he's about 15 years older than me, he has more hair to work with than I do. I've got enough to cover my head and keep it from signaling to aircraft, but it's not going to fluff into a dramatic swoop like Morrissey's does.

Her efforts at providing a "sort of" Morrissey haircut fell short, but I figured I would catch up by buying some casual-but-sporty sport jackets like he wears. So I made stops by K&G Men's Warehouse and Burlington Coat Factory.

Here I discovered that Morrissey's clothes probably cost more than $50, therefore I won't be dressing like him, either. You can't get a decent sport jacket, even at a budget store, for less than $80! And I'd like to have more than one, so, geez, I'm looking at investing several hundred dollars in this makeover!

So screw it. I'm from a blue collar town, so I may as well get over it and pick a style idol more in line with my socio-economic background. I now aspire to dress like Malcolm Young.