My Robes, Pierre!

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

It’s really a sign of your tremendous success in the criminal law, when an apparel company sends you its Judicial Robe Catalog.

I was so honored recently when the Thomas company (Clarence, is that you?), out of classy hometown New London, Ohio, sent me its fine brochure.

Perhaps believing my elevation to the bench a sure thing, they sent it to the attention of my bailiff. As a child I had an imaginary friend; now I’ve got an imaginary bailiff.

I like that they’re located at One Harmony Place. Courtrooms should be places of harmony. Between prosecutor and defense attorney should lie perfect concord: oh, yes, counselor, my client is guilty, but can we just dispense with these archaic ideas about punishment?

The Thomas website is chockablock with items suitable for my impending judicial responsibilities. But who knew there were so many different judicial robes? I can buy a no-nonsense Plain Jim model for just a couple hundred bucks, or double that and show those lickspittle lawyers just who’s in charge of this courtroom.

I always thought the judge’s robe was just a robe, but there are many choices to be made.

Regular yoke, or deep V yoke? I’m a regular guy — I always used to get a regular man’s haircut until my daughter complained. But the deep V yoke: it’s really nice, let’s you expose more of your tie. I’m pretty sure there’s even a Presidential model that plunges way, way down there for the guy who aspires to be a so-called judge.

Zipper closure, or button? Zippers are the most popular, because once you’re behind the bench you can secretly unzip the thing and no one will ever know when you’re mansplaining the law to them. For some reason, a button closure for a man is an extra fifteen bucks, but for women it’s gratis. What are we doing to those buttons?

Single bell sleeve or double bell sleeve? Ding-dong I’m goin’ for the double. Knit cuff or choir cuff? My wife says I’m always preaching to the choir, and I’m not sure I’d ever trust a judge in a knit cuff.

Six different fabrics, including Peachskin/Angelic if you’re ready to go full RBG, and Wondercrepe, which’ll make even the meekest judge feel like a goddamn superhero.

You can even get yours embroidered, with up to four words or initials. Because it’s lettered discreetly in the lining, you can Make America Great Again and only your dry cleaner will ever know.

Luckily, only two colors: it’s gonna be black, or it’s gonna be navy. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a judge in a navy robe, except maybe in the Navy.

I may never be tapped to put them on; I may never figure out which side is front, which back.

I’ve ordered a dozen, just in case.