Tuesday 6 July 2010

Why I love man's fashion: a short essay


Accomplishment is best capped by an immaculate dress sense. Those that have disagreed with this are usually of distasteful inclination to anything aesthetic or have a personality of an ant. Why should an accomplished man be immaculately dressed? Because a man like a chair can never be staid on one leg. A brilliant mind, ability and social grace can all be summed in impeccable dress.
 A man’s wardrobe, it has often been commented is an extension of his personality, I argue it is his personality. Think about it how can a snazzy dressed man with swooning presence turn out to be a bore? Dressing, done appropriately epitomises one’s outlook on life and a pedigree in aesthetics- a swagger with a tradition as long as washing hands with soap!
 Indeed this was a generally accepted rule in the days of yonder when a man would take at least 3 hours to dress up in the morning. The elaboration was not lost to the lady folk of the time who would scrutinise and deduct a man’s character purely based on his cloth and use of thread. A potential employee would list his bespoke tailor as a reference. Hitherto every man, commoner and noble distinguished himself through the cut and make of his attire.  Even when fighting his enemy, cavalry distinction was usually an extension of his beautiful uniform.
 So what has changed over the years? Today’s man is described as colour blind and with other non flattery expletives. I suppose like all medieval chivalry, it no longer matters if a man’s character is worth insignia. Men have even abrogated the six week bespoke tailoring experience to off-the rack internet based synthetic suit- and with no shame whatsoever his lady does the buying. Is there a worse insult, than your lady buying a suit for you? Never mind the glaring innuendos about the man’s sartorial sense; this alludes to just how desperate the lady is in the mating game. Imagine Al Capone or the architect Le Corbusier mating with a desperate lady who does his wardrobe shopping. This insult is inconceivable.
 Every super hero has a suit- this is not just mere coincidence that saving the world requires appropriately dashing attire, it should be the staple food for any man. Not just the gay man who has taken man’s fashion to be his fiefdom- the straight man needs to reclaim what has always been his kingdom. Savile Row remains the one place in the world I feel like a man, where an appointment with the tailor takes the same importance as a woman’s appointment with her gyna. Where every pampering accentuates my manliness and not as endeavours to question my sexuality. Where upon leaving I am gleaming as ever!
 So what is it that I love about man’s fashion, notwithstanding the current state of affairs? I love how naturally important and dashing an impeccably dressed man looks.  Because a man who puts much thought and effort to his clothing and sense of style has measured attention to his work and craft. An elegantly uniformed soldier will draw his elegant sword, and fight an elegant fight. Why else would a soldier dress in an immaculate uniform shine his buttons, sword and shoes only to fight in the meadows of dirt, blood gashing in all directions? It’s because he understands the importance of virtues and strength are exemplified by his uniform.
 Once on a plane trip, I complemented an elderly gentleman on his attire- he turned and looked rather surprised. For the next 20 odd minutes he spoke to me about where and how he got every piece of clothing he had on.  We talked of how the different fabrics available feel on the skin, laughed about what to do when you gain weight and the trousers don’t fit anymore and reflected on why Anderson and Sheppard made the best blazers in the world. We lamented the death of the full Windsor tie, chuckled at Hugo Boss attempts as a serious man’s clothier and agreed that probably the English are plain looking on account of their dress in as much as the Italians are effervescent on the same account and the German’s as stoic as ever.
 As a parting shot, the elderly gentleman gave me a business card. I looked at it and smiled, it was a Cobblers’ business card of one eminent cobbler from the hinterland of Florence. I have never been to Florence- but it has now become one of the places I want to visit and perhaps in the stride get a handmade brogue.
 Perusing over the top dressed man in history I came across a photograph of Sir Sean Connery and the caption captured my imagination, it went “ because has anyone ever made it look easier?”.  The 007, glad in a suit touting a gun and fighting the bad guys was probably my first encounter with Film, the word “espionage”, GQ magazine and then his seductive moves with the ladies made it all look easy, until I tried to buy a suit, watch, and tried one of those cocky lines- in all attempts I failed. And only because I failed did I realise what Sean Connery had and looked simple was just not only a Scottish accent!  The entrepreneur Lapo Elkann has taken over this dapper savant mantle in recent years.
 What has caused me to write this short essay on Fashion? Coming from Melbourne at the airport, bored stiff I went into a clothing shop with man apparels. I had no intention of buying anything – until I came across this Pictoria/Art illustration book by Jeremy Hackett simply titled Mr Classic with photographs by Garda Tang( book review) . My face lit up and impulsively offered my credit card. The shop keeper looked at me, smiled and asked if it not be better if I first perused the book and see if I would enjoy it.  
The Man of the shop angry at such a proposal looked at the lady shopkeeper and exclaimed in a loud voice- “Its Hackett for God’s sake, that’s enough convincing anyone needs”. I smiled a second time, as the gentleman decided to offer me a 50% discount on an aftershave- Taylor of old bond street.
 15 hours of flight I spent nibbling at every word Jeremy had to say, sighing at the very detail exposed by the photographs- exposing my ignorance in many sartorial matters, and gaining valuable lessons on life, manhood, courting a lass, clay pigeon shooting and many other adept subjects-and of course fashion.  Who says man’s fashion is boring?

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