I can remember the last time that I wore corduroy like it was yesterday. Not only was I mortified, but stunned as well. I’m reminded of it every time I see, on my mother’s desk, the grade school photo of me frowning. It is the same desk on which I recently saw the most incredible corduroy suit showcased across her monitor. I can tell mother liked it too, since she was jabbing me and pointing at it while wearing the same smile she had when I wore those pants in grade school. I wondered if she was paying for it because I was sure it was pricey. But it wasn’t. Façonnable corduroy doubled-breasted suit. It’s recession proof.