Shirt: You'll see me wearing a polo shirt most of the time, particularly because it's my personal standard for the workplace. Half my shirts are either plaid or checkered; these fashion nightmares are mostly leftovers from the mid-90s, or hand-me-downs from older relatives. As a result, I prefer solid-color shirts; three of the ones hanging in my closet happen to come from the same brand, mostly because there's a girl I like who works at the company. I always tuck in, because it happens to be an irritating little habit that I can't break.
Undershirt: My collection of sleeveless undershirts dates back to my high school days. After almost fifteen years, the rough fabrics have developed more than a few loose threads and moth-eaten holes... but I figure that no one will notice them as long as I keep my shirt on.
Pants: I picked up four pairs of slacks as part of the uniform from my previous workplace -- they're pleated, wrinkle-free, and mostly resistant to water damage. As you can expect, these are the pairs that I wear practically all the time. Apart from those, I own two pairs of faded blue jeans; there are rumors that I never wear them, but I like to think that I put them on about as often as any other person. I just don't wear them on weekdays (owing to workplace requirements), and I don't buy new ones (seeing that I can only wear them twice a week).
Underwear: Marks & Spencer briefs. The less of that image you get in your mind, the better.
Socks: I have no idea where my brother buys our socks. We share a common sock drawer, you see, and everything we own is in either black or white. I do know that he manages to pick out some comfortable pairs, though, so I don't question his expertise. We do fight over the black ones, though, seeing that we will put on a pair regardless of where we go.
Shoes: I constantly wage a silent war over the acquisition of good shoes. I want my shoes to be as comfortable as any other person would; however, I demand durability in addition to such comfort -- a pair would have to last at least a couple of years in order to satisfy me. I'm very happy with the shoes that I own at the moment, though -- they're padded to ensure a high level of foot comfort, and they have thick soles built in so that I can wade through puddles without destroying the leather. I picked the pair up from a Gibi stall in the Landmark mall some months ago, and you can be certain that I'll be back after they wear out.
Belt: I bought a new belt early this year to replace an old one that was near the point of breaking. After I picked up the new one, however, I went on a bit of a diet that caused me to shave one or two inches off my waist. As a result, the only belt that I own now hangs in a lopsided manner; I'm too forgetful to have another hole stamped into it, and I'm too cheap to get another new one.
Wallet: I used to own a Marithé François Girbaud wallet made out of stiff leather, and after I few years I got to hating it -- the leather would crack, become brittle, and break away in sharp points. On my birthday this year, however, a friend of mine with impeccable taste decided to get me a soft-leather wallet of the same brand... and I've been loving it ever since.
Cellphone: I got my current cellphone almost two years ago, as a hand-me-down from an uncle who was upgrading models. It's a Sony Ericsson, if you must know, and while I like the advanced features, I'm a little leery on a few things. (Does this infernal contraption always save its messages regardless of importance, for example?) The simcard is a holdover from my previous phone, however, and it's lasted me for all of nine years.
Pencil: I'm on my fifth mechanical pencil since college. The previous pencils suffered more than a few indignities -- a couple of them lost their eraser caps, one had its handle break off, and the last one got trampled by a mob of rambunctious kids. I carry one around because I get struck by the urge to write or doodle at the strangest times; if I'm not wearing anything with a breast pocket, you'll usually see the pencil pinned to the buttons down the front of my shirt.