Nige and I have solved the problem by becoming flâneurs. I dress not for the sake of others, but for my own sake. I like to look natty. And I was very pleased when a fellow last summer complimented me on my apparel as I was walking through Center City to The Inquirer. That said, as anyone who knew me in the '70s and '80s will attest, the house on Duval Street where my family ad I lived was surely one of the last bastions of true bohemianism. Interestingly, some years ago, in response to a request from the editor the now-defunct Inquirer Magazine, I wrote a column about judging a book by its cover.
"The last bastion of true bohemianism." Oh Frank, you must tell us more!
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