In doing my duty as GQ's Style Guy, keeping up with the style-conscious, I'm regularly logging on to Ask Andy About Clothes and Style Forum, two virtual communities of natty fellows concerned with matters sartorial. From recent visits I've perceived a growing sentiment among the memberships that the recent revival of Indian madras has peaked, to the extent that it has been ruined for the stylish.

The straw that broke the camel's filter seems to be the new Old Navy madras media blitz. Of course it's always a pleasure to be in the vanguard of any style manoeuvre, and I understand the soreness that the trailblazers feel when the masses pick up on their style breakthroughs. But I can't begrudge the Old Navy hordes their madras and, on reflection, I feel that I can continue wearing my colors as if nothing had happened. I have never wavered from the Hindoo tartan over the decades since I first took it up. It was a joy to wear madras when I was in high school. Attending a Jesuit school where ties were mandatory, I delighted, along with my devious friends, in observing the letter of the law by wearing clashing madras shirts, ties, and trousers, to achieve a fantastic look beyond the dazzle of any patchwork pants or jacket ever made. I kept some of my old madras, and over the years have been picking up pieces here and there, mostly pre-owned. So if anyone should feel his secret is out, it is I.

And yet. And yet, all I can do is think about Anthony Blunt, the dean of the Cambridge Communist spies who went on to become the Royal Curator of Art. When asked how he could give up "all of this" (meaning the luxury and the aestheticism of his milieu) for "the people," he responded, "but I want all of this for everyone." Here is a picture of my young son and wife (background right) taken exactly one year ago yesterday. They continue to dress this way.