Have you ever considered that there are, we suspect, two kinds of well-dressed men? The first dress for the occasion. The second dress because life has the fortunate habit of inventing one. He loosens his tie in the taxi rather than at the table, knows which shoes to wear and patterns to mix, and has one bench along the East River that he privately considers his own. He buys pretzels from street carts without worrying about mustard, waves to a doorman in a building where he has never lived, and arrives at dinner ten minutes early, since being rushed has never improved an evening.