Three (pieces) is company... for a finely dressed groom

I once went into a Men's Wearhouse on my own accord and that George Zimmer is full of shit. Not the guarantee (that's an unbeatable guarantee), but I'm never going back. Maybe it was my overly-sweaty armpits preventing me from truly exploring the bounds of a good suit jacket properly, or maybe it was that I had no idea what I was doing, but every single suit I tried on made me look like Sinbad. Well, except for being very, very white. I was (am) what you call a tall, gangly fellow, and I've learned to appreciate a well-fitted and tailored suit.

In other words, my extremely seldom suit purchases take place in finer establishments now, places where your shopping assistant says things like "very good, sir" and doesn't look like he was halfway through his $5 Footlong when he realized his break was over 15 minutes ago and he's chewing on his last bite while looking for the "big and tall" section.

The point of this nonsense is that I am looking for a gray three piece suit for the Big Day. A sharp one. Snappy. One that fits like a glove that got thrown in the dryer when the tag said not to. A suit that is best presented in a warmly lit, smoky room - smoke from my cigar that I take a puff from while staring off at something important before slowly looking over and saying, "oh, hello... I'm getting married today." Then winking.

So, you know, please let me know if you see a cool suit.