Like any self-respecting/self-hating fashionite, I always try to wear the pocketsquare. When there is no square but there is still a pocket, I’ll end up shoving something else in there (glasses, gloves, perhaps some flowers or sex toys) just so I don’t feel so “empty**.” When there is no pocket but I have a pocket square, my head explodes from the conundrum (my maker hardwired me to self-destruct if confronted with style paradoxes).
I love pocket squares, but there’s one problem: the pocket square is the older, fancier, better-educated cousin of the handkerchief, and so, in theory, should be used as an implement of hygiene. Wiping running noses, dabbing wet brows, cleaning fingerprints off murder weapons, etc. But God forbid you use your J.Press silk for such a lowly task. It’s even more awkward when a lady friend is crying or sneezing, and you could offer your pocketsquare as a small measure of comfort, but instead you furtively tuck it further into the pocket until things blow over. Smooth move, casanova.
I’ve been recently taking to using actual Kleenexes as handkerchiefs. I find the original Kleenex is courser and thicker than the newer versions, which are –ahem– paper thin.
(I apologize ahead of time for the terrible picture quality.)
First, I’ll take two or three napkins out and stack them.
It is, after all, tissue paper, so you’re really just limited to using the presidential (or TV) fold. Fold the sheets in half..
And fold them some more to fit the pocket. Again see the TV fold. It’s basically what I’m doing.
And fold them some more to fit the pocket
The result, something that looks very, very much like a cotton handkerchief, even from up close. Now you have something stylish and useful. So the next time you have to tell that one night stand that you’re waaaay too busy with work to start a relationship, you’ll be ready for the waterworks.
**Empty in a literal sense. Existentially, we are all empty, always.