My dear friend and colleague, the Rev. Hank Peirce, is an old punk rocker who has tons of tattoos and an enormous, sunny, charismatic personality with a great sense of humor. In fact, he’s the only person who regularly gets away with “taking the piss” (as they say in England) about me to my face, and I love him like a brother.
My Pank has developed this look over the past few years and I absolutely love it. I love it becaue he does it so well and comfortably, and it never looks like a costume. What it evokes is the Universalist circuit riding preachers from the late 1800’s, which is exactly what Hank is all about.
Here he is yesterday at lunch following Ash Wednesday services (click on the image to enlarge):
He’s even got the leather and button suspenders under his waistcoat. And I call that knock-down fabulous.
Hank gets a lot of his stuff from the Gentlemen’s Emporium, and cites “Downton Abbey” as another recent sartorial inspiration.
Rowr, Hank. And I mean that in the most appropriate, collegial way.
Oh. My. If his mind’s as sharp as his style, meeting him will go on my bucket list.
He’s the best. Smart, hilarious, faithful hottie. Great husband and dad, friend I’d most want to be stranded on a desert island with, because it would be easy to decide which one of us should die and be eaten if it should come to that. I have no doubt that he’d keep me laughing until the very moment he clonked me on the head with a coconut shell, and bury my remains with beautiful words and prayers.