Published in L'Officiel Hommes Italia No. 7

     ‘Do clothes make the man?’ is a question open to debate. Let us set this aside for the moment and declare instead that clothes make the manners. Say what thou wilt, but it is your author's opinion that a connection exists between the casualness of today's clothes and the casualness of today's manners. When one is dressed like a gentleman, one is more apt to act like one. When wearing the prevailing casual style of today, the gentleman disappears and the uncouth Neanderthal emerges. As everyday clothes have become less formal and sophisticated, good manners have similarly devolved. It seems as though we've lost all distinction between public conduct and what is better left to the confines of the home. We will acknowledge, in a peer-reviewed manner, that correlation does not imply casualization—yet it just might.

     In general, the wearing of classic tailored items precipitates the courtesies to match, whereas the child-like clothing of today produces only child-like behaviour. Today, to find a collared shirt and trousers with a crease in a crowd is like finding a Greek with a job. For a time we had suiting, shirts with collars and buttons, felt hats, shoes fit for the city, gloves, neck wear, long umbrellas, cigarette cases, opera capes, cravats, walking sticks, sleeve garters, monocles, sock garters, top hats, snuff boxes, and other less practical accouterments. Now we have baseball hats, t-shirts, "athletic clothes", flip flops; all and sundry festooned with brands, sports’ teams names and designer logos. 

     If you decide to button up sartorially, this doesn’t preclude some buffoonery. After all, it is far more decadent to attend a wild party in fine suit or tuxedo. Why so? Because the gentleman is behaving in contradiction to what he is wearing. An immaculate suit worn while getting blotto adds a touch of class to wild revelry. A resplendent man in 3 piece suit, umbrella and hat nearby, devolving into drunken absurdity? Sublime. A raucous party in everyday street clothes? Pedestrian. Remember La Dolce Vida's Mastroianni in his sharp-as-a-knife black suit, splashing about in the H2O with steamy Anita Ekberg. Or his pristine white suit, worn while first riding a girl as horse and later rolling on the seaside sand. Why are these scenes so captivating? Partly because his actions betray his clothing. If you would replace Marcello’s wardrobe with beat up jeans and ragged shirt it becomes less remarkable. As a contrast, take some frat boys (called boys for a reason) on the Spring Break beaches of Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Wearing at most, shorts, t-shirts and flip flops. They are acting entirely in accordance with what they are wearing, and hence the boredom inherent in the whole affair. A bunch of slobs acting like slobs? Big deal. Marcello's suits act as a sartorial emphasis. It is clothing as italics; showing how little he cares, how swept away in the moment he is.

     Let us engage in a quick scientific experiment. Here we present a man using Brand 'A'. He arrives wearing a fine woolen Glenurquhart plaid suit, spread collar shirt, hand-sewn silk tie, leather gloves, oxblood captoe shoes and fedora and his cologne smells fantastic. We see Brand 'A' man doffing his hat with flair when catching the eye of a fetching lady. He opens the door for her when she exits, winking rakishly. He conquers some inclement weather by covering a puddle with his trench coat, protecting her shoes from being besmirched. Our next subject uses Brand 'X'. He's wearing a droopy oversize t-shirt, sloppy jeans, a baseball hat with sportsball logo and 'hip' sneakers. His Axe body spray befouls the air. Let us observe Brand 'X' man in action. First, he barks into his cell phone, oblivious to the fact that a dashing lady has entered the room. On the subway we see him sprawled out on a seat, legs agape while a messenger bag rudely occupies another seat. He fails to move either bag or himself so that a lady standing nearby might sit. Finally we see him eating dinner in a fancy restaurant. Witness the napkin untouched on the table and the baseball hat affixed to the head.

      What can we conclude from our observations? The Brand 'A' man’s conduct follows from his wardrobe. He pleases both aesthetically and thru his courtesies to others. He remains alert to his surroundings, ready to lend a hand. Confident, self-possessed, visually striking, erect: this is our Brand ‘A’ man. Our Brand ‘X’ user wallows in selfishness and boorishness. He is wired but disconnected. He diligently updates his Facebook status while ignoring the status of his environment. Brand ‘X’ man assaults the senses of others: his logo-covered t-shirts bore the eyes; his loud inane cell phone rantings grate the ears; his noxious cheap scent wrinkles the nose; if his exposed flesh is regrettably touched, he transfers sweat. Thankfully, we are spared having to taste him—it would be nothing but unpleasant.    

      There was indeed a time when James Dean in jeans and t-shirt was shocking. His clothing gave the middle finger to his conformist times and his manners matched. But now, everyone is a "rebel". Posturing, skulking, posing and sneering; all self-absorbed and nondescript in their jeans and comfortable casual wear. Yet this situation provides an opportunity to the few patrons of Brand 'A' to distinguish themselves and to establish the difference. They understand that in these times the true way to rebel is to dress up, to be selfless, to be the bigger man; a shining beacon on the hill. Having thus meticulously armed himself with suiting, hats, scarves, silk dressing robes, gloves, handkerchiefs, smiles and winks, the gentleman rebel sets forth to slash and burn his way thru the forest of mediocrity.