Every few months or so we are assaulted by the opinions of the poorly dressed. Clouded judgement can be found anywhere. Nowhere is it more misguided than men commenting on clothing. Boys, boys, boys. Unless you are reading this swathed in Armani, a power tie and a pair of wing tips, don’t opine on tout ensemble. It’s like a blond tackling nuclear physics.
John Haltwanger, reprinted in Elite Daily, is concerned about time wasted on clothing choice. He refers to picking out clothes as being wrapped in “frivolous details.” He also has the gall to commit words to paper, “An outfit will not change the world. It probably won’t even change your day.” Blasphemer!
Can you say pink Chanel suit and pillbox hat? Blood spattered, the suit was featured in the swearing in of Lyndon B Johnson. When Lady Bird asked if our dear Jackie wouldn’t like to change she said, “No, I want them to see what they’ve done to Jack.” No doubt a hoodie and yoga pant ‘cuz she wanted to be comfortable on the plane, would not have had the same effect, then or now. Pfft.
Of course the writer, a fashion brain trust, points only to men as examples. He offers President Obama and his penchant for suits that are grey or blue. Presidential colors, somber, serious. Twice he’s swayed–choosing beige, embarrassing enough for the leader of the free world but then added last week’s silk pajama top to disastrous results and the snark of the free world. The non free said nothing. They waited until they got home and laughed quietly up their kimono sleeves.
But to the writer’s belief that the pres is wearing the same suit. Please. The idea that Obama, a man so very impressed with himself is actually shifting between two suits, one grey, one navy, is farcical. Have you never thought about a presidential closet? No? How little imagination you must have. No doubt it is a thing of beauty with navy, then grey, all in a row like perfect tulips in spring. Ties are neatly arranged. Crisp, pressed shirts go on as far as the eye can see. And over there in the corner is one lone kimono and a beige suit formerly worn by some guy in a barbershop quartet.
The author goes one step further offering proof from the president of Uruguay, you know, the fashion mecca. Evidently, Jose Mujica refuses to wear a tie and says it is a useless rag that constrains the neck. Obviously, Mr. Mujica knows not the pleasure of his date slowly loosening said tie, pulling it from his stifled neck and letting whatever happens, happen. Why? Because he’s a shlub who won’t wear a tie to dinner.
Mr. H is not done. He says consumerism is rife with humankind forgetting fundamentally important things and human strength being wasted on frivolities. The final nail in the man’s coffin?
“Buying a new pair of shoes might make you feel more confident in the short-term, but it will not enrich your life in the long-term.” Someone get my fan. “Will not enrich your life in the long term?” Does this man have no soul? Has he never admired the legs of a women in a pointy toe pump? He’s never felt the power of knowing one swipe of your shoe could take someone’s eye out or that the woman with the best shoes is always the winner, regardless the contest. Asshat.
Of course, he also pays homage to perpetual Harvard teenager, that Zuckerberg boy in the hoodie. The only thing the hoodie proves? Money can’t buy you class.
Nice verbal punch to a chump!
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I couldn’t agree more. As a child of the prairie, my tom-boy girlfriends made fun of my ability to always show up overdressed. All I have to say is “Where are you now?” Yep, I’m in Scottsdale and you’re buried in snow!
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