(Disclaimer: This is NOT an item about a moth devouring a friend of Tilda's. The Young Relative thought it was, based on the title, and ended up more than a little disappointed and irritated.)
A Kennett pal of mine who leads something of a Bohemian life owns exactly one business suit, and he rarely wears it. But before a recent funeral, he unearthed it to take it to the dry cleaners. He spied some white spots around the trouser pockets and tried to brush them off, only to discover that they were, in fact, holes: a moth had gotten into the wool during the suit's lengthy stay in the closet.
He said that if the holes had been only in the back of the trousers, the jacket would have covered them and he could have gotten away with it. But no such luck: the moth had done a thorough job.
He ended up wearing brown trousers and a tweed jacket and said that even so attired, he was more dressed up than most of the mourners.
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