Grey Man

“From now on you’ll have no identifying marks of any kind. You’ll not stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You’re a rumor, recognizable only as deja vu and dismissed just as quickly. You don’t exist; you were never even born. Anonymity is your name. Silence your native tongue. You’re no longer part of the System. You’re above the System. Over it. Beyond it. We’re “them.” We’re “they.” We are the Men in Black.” — Men In Black

The last few years I’ve done a good job at looking like the family security guard (my wife’s words). You’ve seen pictures on this site of me with my tactical pants and black shirts. So I thought I’d try to get better at blending in. In Sayoc we would call this being the “Grey Man.” The grey man is not remarkable. He doesn’t draw attention by his clothes or manner.

In Oklahoma City, jeans, a hoodie, and tennis shoes are pretty much standard wear. I could wear that to any restaurant except for the 3 or 4 up-scale places still left and not stand out. I’d probably wear it to Wednesday night church service, but would dress in slacks and a blazer on Sundays lest I stand out.

Sorry, I’m not more photogenic.

You can’t really see it, but in the first picture the only visible “weapon” I have is a folding knife in my right front pocket. Every man has them here, only my wife whipping out hers draws any attention.

Underneath the hoodie I have a Walther PPS in 9mm in appendix carry position, a Cold Steel Brave Heart on the left, a neck knife. Not shown is another folder in my left back pocket. You can’t see my shoes, but I traded out my 5.11 boots for Salomon shoes. Once BladeRigs gets done with my custom sheaths, I expect the knife carry to get easier and more stealthy.

This isn’t my only set-up. If I wear a bigger hoodie then I can hide my Glock 17 in a Crossbreed holster behind my hip. The number and positions of the knives change too. The point is to be capable without standing out.

None of this negates dressing for the part of bad-ass. Sometimes I want my look to say “go away”. Sometimes I want to blend in. But I always want to look good.

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