The Cream of the Crop

By Steve Garbarino, The Wall Street Journal
April 20, 2012

DESPITE MY MISGIVINGS, my wife requested that I wear a white tuxedo when we were married on an early September evening on the penthouse terrace of West Hollywood’s Chateau Marmont—a roost known more as a spot for tying one on than tying the knot.

“No white after Labor Day doesn’t apply here,” my wife said. What did I know? She’s always had better taste than me. Yet when I said, “I do,” I felt like I should have said, “I won’t,” to that bright, white, shawl-collared Prada tux. I felt haloed, unicorn-y, as flashy as the surrounding Sunset Strip billboards. An hour into the reception, I made a quick change into my ensemble’s black twin.

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