Rites of passage for a teenager include acne, moodiness, heavy homework load, prom, driving, college essays, growing taller than the parents and probably more if you asked a teenager and they were honest. The one thing I did not expect to be a milestone, a first tux.

Handsome.

And handsome. (no favorites, couldn’t enlarge.)

By first tux, I don’t mean renting for prom or a wedding. I mean actual ownership. I’m not sure what changed in the last two decades, but when I was growing up, a tux was for rent only. Thank goodness! Could you imagine OWNING one of those ruffled baby blues?!?

After high school, the next time anyone rented a tux was wedding season, usually in our twenties. Either a groom or groomsman and then the whole tux thing ended.

When I moved to San Francisco in 1989, I was really naive. After all, I came from the land of rented tuxedos. When one of my co-workers talked about buying a new tux I was floored.

“You bought a tux?” I asked.

“Well, my other one was in shreds,” he replied defensively.

I think of that conversation and I don’t laugh quite as much. Either son could be that co-worker someday. Both are in a performing art and the tux is required just as a uniform is required for a football player.

Well, when you put it that way, owning a tux at age fifteen does not seem so extravagant.  We won’t have to rent for prom, a plus.  Guys are lucky that way, repeating a tux is no big deal, cheaper than a rack of prom dresses, another upside.

They are both quite handsome in their James Bond attire. The only problem, the growing doesn’t stop. My oldest grew out, not up. He was getting buff to better tackle his opponents on the football field. THAT, is an expensive alteration.

“No more,” I said. “You can get taller but no more muscles. Hems are cheap.”

I told my younger, much-slower-to-grow son the same thing. Unfortunately, I think for him he will have two tuxedo milestones in his high school career: His first tux and last tux.