Professionally, I'm wearing warm-up pants and Hawaiian shirts. I need the low-body mobility for the advanced bodywork techniques I use, but I want structure in my upper body attire, and polos reek of subservience. I have some nice silk Hawaiian's that remind me and my clients that somewhere, sometime, the Sun will return. A polo says poolboy or spa attendant. But I am a professional, a healer, and I will not spread your lotion (though lotion may be spread by my hands or elbows in the course of your healing, more likely fine oils of my own devising, and I have made elegant soaps of those oils, available in limited quantity for $4.00 per bar) nor will I clean your hot tub. And so I will not wear a goddamned polo.
I was just about to build (literally - I sling a mean sewing machine and make my own patterns) my own line of bowling shirts, when a chance chat with my lady love revealed she has an irrational hatred of bowling shirts, nay, with the sort of man who wears them. So I'm back to the drawing board, probably building either Hawaiian shirts or something involving long sleeves that can be rolled. The rolled sleeve says "getting to work".
Well, I can't do that now, I have to work on an 8th-13th Century Anglo-Saxon outfit for a full-immersion dramatic recitation of the Beowulf epic poem next month. And I'm looking forward to the road-trip even more than the event.