Nothing spells failure more quickly than a writer whose first column annoys his few readers as this one, which is certain to strike opprobrium, ab initio. I’m not one for trigger warnings, but consider this, if you favor them, as your tocsin. So, let’s get right to it.
A few weeks ago, Sean P. Duffy, the Trump administration’s Transportation Secretary, launched a return to the “golden age of travel.” Duffy publicly longed for the days when men and women dressed for travel, were polite and civil, and looked like the intelligent human beings we claim to be. At once, the left flew into a virago of complaints, led by the usual suspects and their coryphaeus, the shrieking media. First, because it was the Trump administration (TDS is terminal with many these days), and second, because someone dared to imply that air travelers were not well-dressed, polite, and civil, apparently from a vocal minority who have never traveled.
Duffy had it wrong, not because he said what he did, but because he did not go far enough.
The fact of the matter is that the majority of people do not dress well in public at all. Comfort seems to be the overriding factor, but not, of course, the comfort of others. Just the narcissistic comfort of oneself. When we venture out into the public, the only thing that matters is that we must be as comfortable out there as we are sprawled spreadeagled on the couch, vegetating in front of the television.
Horrifically, to my mind, this does not apply only to one sector of society, but to all of them: men, women, children, Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, and it is ubiquitous: grocery stores, the mall, school, the gas station, Walmart or Macy’s, and, yes, even church. I call it the Defenestration of the Full-Length Mirror Syndrome.
The point is this: a full-length mirror might well solve much of the angst expressed in this column, but it is likely not to be. Let’s start with men.
It’s well-known that men, for whatever reason, are not known for their sartorial splendor. If anything, they are known for their dishabille, their slovenly dress. Perhaps it’s because most men see this faculity feminine in nature, diffident about their own sexuality. Their draggletailed manner is all on them, but they have had help. They cannot be fully faulted, frankly. Theirs is a life full of fireworks and fun, and one must be dressed, or so they reason, just for that. But it does not help matters that a company specializing in shirts for men encourages dishevelment by offering shirts that cannot be tucked in. This is like proffering happy hour at an AA meeting: it’s a terrible idea, and it will not end well. This accounts, however, for only part of the problem. Suffice it to say that T-shirts are not for daily wear, and most of us do not care for whatever views you wish to share on them, profanity-laced or not. Sure, maybe you do want to “eff” something, a political figure or an idea, but honestly, most of us really do not care to know.
Secondly, those shorts you wear when it’s 5 degrees or 95 degrees outside are again not suitable for every occasion. Outside of the beach, all other occasions require something else. And, God forbid, you wash them every now and again, or get the zipper fixed. Would it kill you to put on a shirt with a collar and some trousers that do not have last week’s spilled beer on them? It does not take a neurosurgeon to know that shorts at a funeral or wedding are simply inappropriate (sadly, I have seen both). This rule of thumb may come in handy: gym clothes are for the gym, and nowhere else. See full-length mirror. But I digress.
Women, on the other hand, fare even less well. A Greek tentmaker in the mid-first century once wrote, “And those parts of the body that we consider less honorable, we clothe these with greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater respect.” Apparently, we do not. Oh, we like to let it all hang out.
Lululemon was never meant to be worn all day, every day, but sadly, it is. And as with men, they are called “gym” clothes for a reason. The mall, the grocery store, a sporting event in which you’re a spectator and not a participant, dinner, the movies, the opera (just kidding), and so on, are all occasions in which your favorite jeggings or leggings or tights should be saved for more private events because they do not really cover your more private parts. See full-length mirror.
Athleisure wear should be a significant hint—it’s worn for athletic engagement. I know I’m trying to put the toothpaste back in the tube, or in this case, muffin-tops back in pants, but let’s be frank: it’s narcissistic to think we all want to see everything you own, most of which isn’t really ready for primetime viewing. For the love of decorum, if you must wear them, how hard is it to add a top that hangs below your hips?! And for the love of decency and punctilio, can we get manufacturers to specify a weight class for these? Sheesh.
A case in point. Recently, I was browsing my favorite retail store and the buxom cashier, a twenty-something, was manning the register. When I walked by, I thought her clothes had been painted on. I realized it was instead her skin-tight, silver, lame onesie. This outfit simply did not leave anything to the imagination; it murdered it with contemptible reality. After I made my purchase, averting my eyes to the floor or the ceiling, I’m not sure I made it out with my original order.
A stroll down the mall—almost any mall—will reveal-and I emphasize the word knowingly—similar visual assaults. The bathukolpian to the calipignious, to what appears to be anyway, the meretricious, all of which is certainly hor la loi, could easily be avoided by a full-length mirror. Do you really think that much cleavage is appropriate, or those torn shorts public-worthy? One would like to think all of these folks dressed in the pitch dark, but that would be too generous. It is by design, I fear. And oh, dear God, please no more casual Fridays! And what demented educrat came up with pajama day for schoolchildren?
Some readers will argue that this is elitist talk, a charge that those who are will treat as if a compliment. But it has nothing to do with elitism and everything to do with etiquette. One does not have to be rich to be appropriately well-dressed. Not only are there sales at every shopping center that will also make these purchases match anyone’s frugality but also thrift stores and Goodwill centers that offer brand-name clothing at a fraction of the original cost. Others will argue that de gustibus non est disputandum: there is no disputing about taste. But this has nothing to do with taste, and everything to do with propriety, with ceremony, with manners.
Let’s sum this up in an easy-to-remember truism:
When you get ready to go out into the world, do us all a favor: care about what you wear, and dress as if you cared.
Now, please don’t get me started on tattoos!
