If my wife bought my clothes, they would all be the most non-descript Brooks Brothers stuff available. Her credo - if I notice your clothes, you've failed. This uber-Beau Brommelism means that, on weekends, I'd wear khakis (shorts or long pants depending upon weather) and a polo shirt with sneakers. On the week days, grey suits without much if any pattern. All style would be crushed in her campaign against attention. And everything would be as cheap as humanly possible. No shoes would cost more than $150. No shirts past $75. I would have to drink Liquid Plumber. In her defense, this is the credo she lives by as well. No, she is not a good dresser. Nor does she really give a damn if she is. But ... she costs me very little money.