Published in L'Officiel Hommes Italia No. 10

      Look to nature and see the bright plumage of male birds, the great manes of male lions, the large noses and colorings of male monkeys and baboons, the red combs atop roosters. Now cast your eyes to the human males: what a dreary sight. There he goes in saggy sweatpants, ill-fitting jeans, drab t-shirts, de-saturated colors bereft of bravado, lacking in eye-catching hues; he walks with head down, studying the pavement, while girls pass him by, he remains unnoticed. It is time to correct this error of culture and follow the model set by nature. We at L’Officiel Hommes Italia say it is high time that male Homo sapiens join the rest of the animal kingdom and become the more colorful of the sexes. The attention grabber, the one who conquers; he who defends the lair, he who marks territory, he who gets laid. If man sits at the apex of all the world’s creation, it should follow that he be the most splendid, the most magnificent in his form and in his dressing. Yet he has fallen far from his throne. We have lost the path by the lazy, throw-in-the-towel allure of comfortable, colorless clothes. Yesterday’s anonymous man in the grey flannel suit is even worse off today, wrapped as he is in casual wear of synthetic origin and science-fiction-looking sportswear. It is clothing with the sole purpose of invisibility. If we continue down this path, it will not be long before men attend events clad in one-piece Snuggies in the dullest, drabbest beige. True, we cannot attach colorful feathers, large red monkey butts, copious hair, but we can dress ourselves in clothing that enlightens and enlivens. Whether flowing or form fitting, we need clothing that is bright, gleaming, and richly hued. We have the means; let us follow through to the civilized, Darwin-approved ends. Even tough guy Frank Sinatra said orange was the happiest color. And who couldn’t use a little more happiness in the drab, dreary world that we live in?

     From the ancient Byzantine rulers, Alexander the Great of Macedonia, to the Emperors of ancient Rome, the royalty of Europe, all were dressed in luxurious purple, crimson, gold and indigo. Commoners and peasants did not wear colors. To the Far East and the Buddhist monks in their robes of saffron and maroon. Having relinquished all earthly goods, they know enough to keep the brightly colored robes. If you are begging for rice with a wooden bowl, you might as well look good. The lowly priests of Catholicism are clothed in boring black, signifying only subservience and lack of fun. Meanwhile, the Cardinals and Bishops, who have a little power and know what fun is, are appropriately clad in red and purple, respectively. The Pope, the man on top, may be dressed in white, but let us not forget the traditional bright red papal slippers peeping out from under the robes, surely evidence that he is familiar with the Vatican’s wine cellar. Bright color was a way to establish your position, your distinction in class or great wealth, your power, that you’re buddies with God.  

    Color is the stock in trade for artists. Le Corbusier, Piet Mondrian, Alexander Calder, Yves Klein, Luis Barragán, David Hockney and Anish Kapoor were not shy about making a statement and they consistently use bold, bright colors to do so. Colors lacking in subtlety, daring horizontal and vertical lines that crackle with power, geometric shapes that impose themselves on the viewer; these artists have fearless confidence. They also had a good helping of humor. Take our Frenchman Yves Klein. He produced art by covering the naked bodies of women (usually attractive ones) in paint and directing as they rolled around on large canvases. This is not achieved without a knowing smirk, and who would say no to dragging a naked-girl-paintbrush across canvas?

       The bullfighter steps into the ring. He is hard to miss, dressed as he is in pale blue and gold brocaded jacket, pastel pink hose to the knee, the expanse of red cape flapping in the hot Spanish air. He is the epitome of machismo daring and chest-puffing peacock-style dress. A real man indeed and real men wear bright colors that enrage bulls and enrapture women. The dual ensues, the dust settles and the bull lies bleeding on the dirt. The crowd roars, flowers and hats rain down upon him. The adoring women throwing one of their shoes, which are gathered by our hero. Later, under the pretense of having lost their shoes, the senoritas file eagerly into his bedroom.

       The NY Dolls step onto the stage. In their over-the-top transvestite style, with tight pink trousers, bright red tops, exposed midriffs, lipstick, high heels, big hair, purple jumpsuits, colors louder than the rock n’ roll they play, they had nothing but sexual magnetism. Outrageous and full of swagger, glam rock created a new code, a complete rebellion about how men should act and how men should dress.

       The pimp leans against his Cadillac, clad in a canary yellow suit, with matching hat and shoes. Rings on every finger, gold necklaces piled high. The swagger, the bad-assness of a tough guy wearing nothing but the loudest of colors. The man you do not want to insult and the one that all the girls notice.

       David Bowie always oozed sex appeal and as Ziggy Stardust, he was at his most lively and flamboyant. With designs from Kansai Yamamoto, Ziggy wore extravagant colors, shiny and sequin covered, tight on the body, billowing out on the legs. Without the makeup, the lights, the colors, outer-space alien Ziggy would not have captured us the way he did. 

       Any hayseed can look good in a black suit, but it takes charisma and joie d’ vie to pull off an eye-catching blue one. Others are drawn to that charismatic man in vivid coloring; the life of the party has arrived. Bright colors are in your face, unapologetic; they are not for wallflowers. Just as Mondrian and Hockney have the ability to pull you into their worlds, with vibrant colors on your back you too will have the power to pull people where you want to be. You become a walking landscape and can bring others along for the trip.

        With brilliantly colored clothes, we gain the confidence of a bullfighter, the sex appeal of the NY Dolls, the eccentricity of Ziggy Stardust, the toughness of the pimp. With our confident new colorings, we attract mates and intimidate competitors—just like the rest of the animal kingdom. We see the lion with its great mane, we hear the rooster loudly crow; we don ourselves in radiant blues, shocking greens, pinks, reds and purples, and take our rightful place as colorful males.