The Need for Tweed

Chapter 78

This week: a clarification of one of the tenets of dressing well, by way of some handy examples. In a recent installment, I emphasized the importance of "tone matching." The Average Guy who desires to dress like a grownup may have a bit of trouble with this concept, if he is not properly introduced to it.

The Average Guy's  knowledge of "matching clothes" usually comes from the observation of his mother. Women are voracious matchers, as a rule. It has been beaten into girls from a very young age that every article of clothing worn must have at least one precisely-matching color amongst them; including shoes, jewelry, accessories, even cosmetics. There are further rules as to what colors and patterns "should" and "should not" be worn together.

It stands to reason that a young lad, barring any specific male tutelage, will adopt the aforementioned rationale as a universal maxim. Unfortunately, the history of menswear bears out that the concept of "matching" is vastly different among men than it is with the Fairer Sex. The difference is this: women match their clothing to itself. Men match their clothing to their environment. The reasoning is simple: historically, women worked largely in the home, and men worked largely outside. When you are tracking a mobile protein source, you don't want to stand out.

In other words, suits are camouflage. In today's world, where many men don't set foot outside at all, this may be a puzzling concept for some. If you agree with Poirot when he says, "If the outdoors are so good, Hastings, why did they invent indoors?" then you may have particular trouble with the idea.

Fortunately, there is a simple exercise which will make the whole concept crystal clear: we must turn our attention to Scotland, and its national fabric of tweed.

If you have spent any time at all in a secondhand shop hunting for suitable jackets in your quest for adulthood, you have run across tweed jackets. In addition to the grey or tan plain twills and herringbones, you have probably seen plaids and checks that to your untrained eyes looked strangely garish; yellows and blues and reds all together.

In order to make sense of it all, one merely has to look at the colors of the heaths, heathers, and glens of Bonnie Scotland. You may not think that plaids and checks of red and green can be camouflage; but observe!

For instance, take this hillside...

...and compare its rusts, greys, and browns to this example of tweed.

Let's take another example of a Scottish hill, this one in tan and brown and grey-blues:

And again, compare the tones and colors to this dogtooth check.

Let's give another example, this time a foggy blue-grey with lush greens:

And one more:

As you can imagine, this is no mere co-incidence. Wealthy landowners chose "estate tweeds," that were unique to that location. The man of the house would stand upon his balcony, and send his employees out, each with a different bolt of fabric across his shoulders. As they walked away and up the hill, the cloth that most closely matched the colors of the landscape would disappear from view first on the hillside, and that bolt would be chosen as the tweed for that estate.

In other words, "tone matching." Of course, it's impossible to choose your clothes in such a manner today...but the idea of matching your clothes to your environment is a timeless and valid one. This is, in fact, the very essence of the division between "town wear" and "city wear." Cities are dominated by greys, charcoals, and blacks, clean lines, and smooth textures; thus, that became the "city suiting." Likewise, when out of the city, look around you --take a picture if it will help-- and pull those colors into your outfits. Keep track of the changing of the seasons, and continually adjust your colors accordingly.

Of course, you needn't try to combine every hue in one item. Unless you get very lucky with a secondhand estate tweed, your jacket, shirt, and trousers can capture single hues in broad strokes, and your accessories can add the stronger ancillary colors. Autumn is the best season for putting this into practice, due to its abundance of strong, manly, earthy colors.

Into the winter, (and yes, it will be just around the corner,) the colors of your autumn attire should gradually wash into the monochromatic. This isn't to say winter wear need be bleak; the peculiar bright crispness of winter light can be woven into your attire as well.

The hues of spring are in many ways the brighter, more saturated versions of those of autumn. Unlike the gradual transition of autumn-into-winter hues, traditionally, Easter is the time for exploding the color back into your attire all at once, to kick off your spring wardrobe. And summer, as you well know, is the time for getting a little crazy.

Don't be caught up in matching socks to slacks, or ties to shirts, or hats to coats. Be more concerned with matching your adult clothes "outward" to the tones of your environment, and you need never fear being mis-dressed.

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The Fighting Yank Rises

(Part Two of the series, "The Fighting Yank Trilogy.") 

Chapter 77

This is the conclusion of a story that began on July 29th of last year: the story of a famous little statue in an unlikely little town, and the tragic tale of that statue's destruction. If you haven't read it, go ahead, click the link, and do so now. Don't worry; I'll be here when you get back.

At the end of that article, I promised a follow-up when the miscreant (or miscreants) were apprehended, to validate my hypothesis that the criminals were dressed like children....as well as to give them the ridiculing they most richly deserve. My theory: men who dress like adults behave like adults, and don't behave like criminals: because criminals have a childish mindset and dress like children. Conversely, teaching a child to dress like a grownup from an early age might help stem the proclivity to criminal behavior.

Well, it gives me no end of joy to report that the bastards have been bagged.

Heroes: Chief Franklin and Lt. Marett (on the right)

On February 9 of this year, Belmont Police Chief Franklin concluded a 7 month investigation headed up by Lt. Basil Marett, resulting in charges being taken out on three malefactors in connection to the July 24, 2011 caper.

Lt. Marett, after a "significant number" of hours working on tips from local officials and others, interviewed the delinquents and obtained confessions: they parked in the middle school's lot, climbed the base of the statue, toppled it, stole the head, and tossed it into Dutchman's Creek. (Named for Dutchman James Kuykendall, who was given a land grant along the creek in 1754. The creek meanders through what is now called the town of Mount Holly, a mere six miles from the Fighting Yank's location.)

The Gaston PD's special scuba dive team scraped the Dutchman's Creek bed on Feb. 8, and found the smashed head in five feet of murky water under the Main Street bridge. They recovered four large pieces; as Marett put it, "like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of parts missing.”

All three of the reprehensible scalawags were chucked in the Gaston County pokey under a $1,000 bond, with charges of felony larceny, conspiracy to commit felony larceny, defacing a public statue and misdemeanor conspiracy to commit felony larceny.

Conservation Solutions Inc. out of Washington, D.C., was able to piece the head together and re-attach it, at a cost of about $30,000. Inexplicably, the Fighting Yank's Tommy gun was not replaced, so I hesitate to call this a proper "restoration." It merely looks as it has been since its vandalization in the 1960s, not when it was cast in 1943. Why it was not properly restored is a mystery to me. Perhaps because it is on a schoolyard, and "zero tolerance" extends to bronze statuary?

If you ask me, I think the criminal charges are weak. Far too weak. Punnery aside, this was no "defacement of a public statue." Defacement is a bottle of spray paint and a brassiere. This statue was torn down and smashed. There's no coming back from that. There were five made. Five. You can't just go down to Statues-R-Us and get another one. If the Mona Lisa was ripped apart, you don't just paint another one, or tape the old one back together, and say "no harm no foul." This was wanton destruction of a national treasure.  Now it is a repaired and patched national treasure. It is not "fixed." It can never be fixed. The damage is done, forever. These cretinous imbeciles have left their mark on the fabric of the piece itself.

But nonetheless, the Fighting Yank stands proudly again, as he has stood for fifty years, cradling an (invisible) M1928A1 in one hand, lobbing a grenade in the other, steely eyes set against an unseen foe. But this time he has a security camera focused on him, and he's been more tightly tied into his monolithic base. Night-time lighting may be forthcoming as well, in a classic case of locking the barn door after the cows have escaped.

So, let's meet our three nefarious reprobates, and expose them to the burning spotlight of our mockery and ire.

First, we have the 18 year old Idiot Henry Diegert, seen here in his mug shot. He was born in Belmont, and lives in Mt. Holly. Surprisingly, he managed to graduate from East Gaston High School. His parents must be so proud. Let's take a look at Diegert's sartorial choices, and analyze his decisions. We can do this thanks to the wonder of Facebook, where anyone can see photos taken and approved by him, and placed in the public domain. In other words, these are the images he chooses to present to the world as representative of himself.

Sigh. Grit your teeth if you must, and we'll get through this. Keep repeating to yourself, "This is a picture of an adult." Eighteen years old. I won't drag his, er, friend into the issue, although she deserves all the ridicule she gets for choosing to hang out with such a worthless human. Besides, a simple Facebook search of his friends will quickly reveal her complete identity, so I don't have to. His glasses match both his shirt and cap -- the pinnacle of fashion, I'm sure. The sideways cap-skew is a daring fashion decision, as is the accessorizing of earring and necklace. He is without a doubt well-prepared for higher education.

The self-portrait is the window to the soul. His baseball cap is not only backwards, but placed right on the back of his head like a yarmulke, and cunningly matched to his tee-shirt. His colorful necklace adds the splash of color. The choice of OSB plywood as a backdrop is doubtless a statement of deconstructivism and the fragility of societal norms.

Ah, the poseur in all his finery. The cigarette cartons pasted to his bedroom door are the trophies of badassery. His Hollister sweatshirt shows him as a man of means, and the gang handsign shows him a man of business. His cap is turned frontways this time; he must be going to a job interview. His untucked tee-shirt cunningly conceals his two handguns. See, I bet you didn't even notice them.
 

Next, the mugshot of Justin Russell, 19 year old Idiot, another Mt. Holly resident who attended East Gaston High, but somehow didn't have the fortitude to see it all the way through. Shocking, I know. Let us see what wonders the Facebook lays bare for us...

Hmm. Black tee shirt. Love of biceps, fear of scissors. And pensively chewing on his bottom lip. Yeah, no one could see this coming. If he had stayed in school, he would have been voted "most likely to bash in a statue for no reason whatsoever."

It's difficult to judge one's fashion choices when one doesn't wear clothes at all. But it's very, very easy to judge one's personality.

Our Third Stooge mugshot is Steven Morgan. An 18 year old dropout idiot originally from Canby, Oregon, before he infested Stanley, NC, several miles northerly from Mt. Holly. His expression says it all.
Morgan is a little harder to track online. He may have thought far enough ahead to wipe his Facebook account after his arrest...but it's probably more likely he just can't figure out how to use his computer.

Fortunately, he's popular enough to be included in others' photos. Here he is cozying up with his buddy the Idiot Russell, as he dangles a Yeungling Lager for the camera. They both apparently share a dislike of clothing. Forget dressing like grownups; they're like infants who won't keep their clothes on at all. Oh, and look, Russell can't be bothered to cut his hair, but has braces. Hey, Dad, how ya like where your money has gone?




My theory is thus vindicated, in spades. Quod Erat Demonstrandum. Now let's look at punishments.

The Idiot Diegert still faces charges of felony larceny, conspiracy to commit felony larceny, defacing a public statue and misdemeanor conspiracy to commit felony larceny. He has a court-appointed lawyer and has a court date scheduled for July 30. If there's any real justice, he would spend several years making big rocks into small rocks. But we all know that won't happen.

The Idiots Russell and Morgan, on the other hand, are getting off nearly scot-free with a plea deal:

Both have to pay $5,000 in restitution, which you will note is a mere third of the cost to repair their destructive spree. Mommy and Daddy better pony up, because you know these morons don't have any money of their own. They're on "supervised probation" for 15 months. Because, you know, that'll teach 'em. They agree to work 1,000 hours or earn their GED diplomas. Brilliant! Require them to do the absolute bare minimum through which every human in America can somehow manage to somnambulate. That's tough justice, that is. And each must complete 100 hours of community service in one year. That's an even better idea: force them to do good deeds as a punishment.

Oh, yeah, and testify against their co-defendants. So if Moe and Curly send Larry up the river and meet the terms, their charges will be dismissed, and they will be free to continue their lives of thuggery unencumbered by any correctional process.

If anyone is shocked or offended at the inclusion of the pictures of these "children," I say nuts. All three men are over eighteen years of age. They may look like bad-mannered twelve-year-olds, but legally they are adults. They can vote. They can enter into contracts. And they can choose to post their images in a publicly accessible manner. They are all criminals and felons who have committed a despicable act, dismissed charges or no, and they need to --they must be-- held up to a global audience of tomato-wielders. They have made their decisions, now they must live with them. Likewise for the persons who associate with them. "Lie down with dogs," and all that.

It's been a year in the making, but our tale of the Belmont Yank now has some closure. Take from it a cautionary fable. Apply it to your own sons, and if needs be, to yourself, before it's too late.

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Sock It To Me

Chapter 76

This week, we're going to dial it back a little, and go back to the basics of an Average Guy sartorial education. It's summer, it's hot, you're on vacation, and the last thing you want to do on vacation is overly tax your brains. So we'll keep it simple -- a topic so simple, it's often overlooked among the suits and hats and shoes, which get all the attention.

Let's consider socks. That's right: socks, the part of your attire that is quite literally the furthest from your mind. Socks are important, but too often overlooked in the heady rush to find the perfect jacket, the most awesome tie, or the ideal hat. The sock serves a mundane, utilitarian function: in winter, thick wooly ones keep your ankles warm; in summer, light cottony ones keep your shoes from getting sweaty and smelly. The sock is a small part of your attire from the point of view of fashion, but it is an important one nonetheless.

If you think of your socks as something that is never seen, then you are wearing your trousers too long. If your trousers are the proper length in the leg, whether straight or cuffed, the front should just break over the instep of your shoe, and cut back at a slight angle toward the rear, long enough to cover your socks completely, and the top ¼ to ½ inch of your shoes. When standing, no sock should be seen -- but when walking briskly, a flash of sock should be visible. When sitting normally in a chair, a couple inches of sock should be shown -- and when sitting cross-legged, several inches of sock is very visible.

What should your socks look like? Patience: we'll get there...

Let's deal with the issue of length first. When wearing trousers, your socks should be long enough that you never show a hint of leg, at any time. Test this by kneeling down, or by pulling your knee up to your chest. If there's as much as a glimpse of your hairy old calves, your socks are too short, and you need to purchase a longer size: calf-length or over-the-calf. When you wear shorts (e.g., on vacation) you need socks that are ankle-length. Calf-length socks with shorts are verboten. Don't cheat by scrunching long socks down, or rolling them: one looks sloppy, the other effeminate. True ankle-length only, that covers the ankle bones: for low-rise socks are an abomination. No socks are worn while swimming, approaching the sea to swim, or walking from the sea after having swum. Period.

If you like hand-knitted socks, garters are still made. 

Next, we move on to construction. Most socks are made with elastic sewn into the top these days, rendering sock garters unnecessary and wrinkled, droopy socks a thing of the past. If you have muscled calves that push your socks down, wear an over-the-calf model. There's no reason for droopy socks in today's world. Stay away from tube-style socks: your feet aren't shaped like tubes, nor should your socks be. Good socks will have reinforced toe caps, be made with a heel, and fit within a narrow range of shoe sizes -- not a one-size-fits-all.

Now, let's discuss materials. Stout wool is good insulation from the cold, cotton for heat and sportswear (although thin merino wool wicks perspiration better than cotton ever could,) any number of manufactured rayon/dacron/etc. blends are available, as well as more exotic materials like cashmere. There is but one place for thin black silk, and that is formalwear. A modern trend that bears consideration, and my personal preference, are socks made of bamboo viscose fiber; they have antimicrobial properties, as well as being remarkably soft and comfortable, they wick well, and are reasonably hard-wearing. Ultimately, you should be less concerned with exactly of what your socks are made, and more concerned with how much they cost, how long they last, how well they work, and how good they look.

That leads us to value. While it may seem to be a good deal to reach for the cheapest bag-o-socks at the big box store at five dollars a dozen, you will get a better bang for your buck by purchasing single pairs of higher quality. Pick and choose your selected colors and patterns, rotate through your socks, and discard them out of rotation at the first sign of thinning at the heel, and you will get more wears per dollar than "discount" socks can give you. This doesn't mean more expensive means longer lasting; by that logic, some Italian socks would last forever!

The price-value curve is a sharply-flattening asymptotic one in sockdom: a very small investment over the bargain-basement offerings can yield a sock of much higher quality, but you won't see much more improvement than that, even at a much higher price.

Now, the best quality and value sock on the planet will be of no use if it looks like moldy burlap, so now we'll turn our attention to appearances.

First, white socks of any description should not be worn with trousers -- ever. Wear them for sportswear, or at the gym. They have no other place in an adult's wardrobe.

As to color, pay no attention to the fashion bloggers who argue amongst themselves as to whether socks should match the trousers, match the shoes, match the tie, et cetera. Be more concerned with tone matching. Don't wear bright-colored socks for business use. Your work suiting will be in charcoals and greys and perhaps browns, maybe with pinstripes or overchecks, on largely smooth and plain fabrics -- in old-fashioned terms, "town wear." Match your socks to the sombre tone, with charcoals and greys and blacks. Don't go more extravagant than pindots or birdseyes, and keep the socks in a smooth or lightly ribbed texture. At work, your socks should be thoroughly in the background, and your tie should do the work of personalization alone.

After work, or with "country wear," is where you can let your personality show a bit more. Think of the relationship of sock to trousers as parallel to that of pocket square and jacket; a bit of color that enhances the overall impact of an outfit without overwhelming it. In the cooler months, where your suiting tends toward heavier or more textured wools and corduroys, your socks should become proportionately thicker and more heavily ribbed or textured as well. Your palette can run to the colors of fall, the rusts, russets, greens, greys, and burgundys; but muted and darkened in hue, and always tone-matched to your outfit. Patterns of herringbone, checks, stripes, houndstooth, tartan, and the ubiquitous Argyle can add some variety and interest to your lower extremities in the winter months.

As winter gives way to spring, and the world brightens around you, the muted tones can give way to brighter hues. As the dark suits of January gradually melt into the sport coats and tan trousers of April, your socks should brighten as well. Lighter tans and browns with stripes, checks, or figures work well with khakis and loafers, and your Argyle and houndstooth selections can become more vibrant as the weather clears and the trees awaken.

The heat of summer, with its commensurate explosion of color and style and general air of vacationality, is the time to go more experimental, like socks that exactly match your shirt or pocket square. Pastel socks in complementary colors: canary yellow against light blue trousers? Why not! Horizontal stripes, or bright multi checks? Sure! Anything goes; summer is the time to go a little crazy, as long as the outfit is in proper balance. For instance, a Bermuda suit with an aloha shirt needs a light solid-color ankle sock to ground it somewhat. Remember that all resort shorts need ankle socks, and unless you are playing shuffleboard or tennis, they should not be white, should tone-match the outfit, and most likely be plain.

The perfectly-engineered sock hanger.

Just a final few words about care: don't store your socks by pairing them together and turning them inside out in a bundle. Everyone does it, I know...but stop. It wears the elastic out prematurely, pulls them out of shape, and hides any wear (and the patterns and colors!) from view. If your socks come on wee little hangers, save them. Smooth your socks flat out of the dryer, re-hang them, and either lay them in a drawer or hang them up. You can choose a pair much easier, and inspect the heel wear at the same time. It may seem a bit fussy at first, but trust me: you'll thank me after the first two weeks.

Oh, one last thing: you will notice, in your sock shopping, that men's socks in the mid-price range are disturbingly mundane. Most are plain and dark; fine for work. Some are tan and grey and figured, and there are a few subtle checks and several Argyles. Once you find those, you will find yourself against a wall fairly rapidly. You will look in vain for the bright colors and vibrant patterns you know exist, but apparently not in your price range. Here's a secret: peek in the women's-wear section of the store. Socks are unisex, despite their packaging: if it fits, it fits. Sometimes the careful application of The Other Side's socks can give just the right effect to a bright summer ensemble. (Shh...I won't tell if you won't.)

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