Words Matter

First Ladies are often remembered for their fashion choices: Mamie Eisenhower's bangs, Jackie Kennedy's pillbox hats, Barbara Bush's pearls.  I won't argue that this is fair; after all, nobody is elected to be First Lady, and many of our former First Ladies have been uncomfortable with this spotlight.  It's easy for Americans to be cruelly critical of a president's spouse for her choices of wardrobe or White House decoration, as Mary Todd Lincoln and Nancy Reagan could attest.  Yesterday, Melania Trump found herself caught in an unflattering spotlight for her choice of attire, namely the $39 Zara jacket she wore while boarding the airplane for her visit to the Texas border.  The reason was not the color, or the style, or the season, or even the price tag, but the words scrawled across the back of the lightweight coat: I REALLY DON'T CARE, DO U?



So what did that mean?  Was she sending a message that her trip was all an exercise in deception, that she really couldn't care less about Hispanic children ripped from their parents by her husband's callous policy?  Was it a message sent to her spouse, that she actually disagrees with his choices?  Was it, as her spokesperson said, nothing but a jacket, with no meaning at all and we shouldn't even be talking about it?  Or, as the president later tweeted, was it a sneer of contempt at the news media?


Honestly, I have no idea.  I don't know Melania and I try not to have much of an opinion on her, though I have plenty on her spouse and none of them are very positive.  For all I know, she may be a perfectly nice lady who loves kids and hates the glare of the international spotlight.  She certainly wouldn't be the first decent woman in the world married to an all-out jerk.  Just as with past First Ladies, she's worn things that made me go, "ohhh, that's lovely' and other things that made me cringe.


But here's one thing I'm pretty sure of---yesterday, as she was getting ready to depart, she didn't look out of the White House window and go, 'you know, it might rain and it's always cold on the plane so let me just grab a jacket out of the closet.  Oh, darn, my favorite one is dirty!  This one will do, and it goes with my slacks.'  You know, the mental conversation we've all had with ourselves at some point?  I seriously doubt that First Ladies flit out of the White House, especially on missions designed to raise their spouses' approval numbers, wearing 'some old thing' the way we ordinary ladies might if we had to dash out to grab a gallon of milk or put gas in the car.  I'm also guessing that she doesn't have to dress herself, that she has a stylist on call or whatever the modern equivalent of a lady's maid is, to help her craft her image, and I'm betting that person always takes a look at Mrs. Trump before she steps out in public. (And, in the spirit of fairness, if I had that much money, I'd probably hire a 'dresser' as well, though hopefully NOT one who would get me in such a pickle!)


Which brings me to a larger point about my view of fashion.  Do words and images on clothes matter? 


I vividly remember when I first started to notice words and logos on shirts.  I was in middle school, and suddenly everyone seemed to have a t-shirt with a rock band picture or a quirky slogan on it.  I begged my mom for one; she thought they were crass and 'too much like a boy.'  But that was what I wanted for my birthday---a 'cool' shirt and a pair of sneakers that weren't bright white!  (In my humble opinion, the 70s were where fashion went to die, especially in the backwater of North Florida, but let's not go there, shall we?)  Somehow, I got both to start school with, and I was so proud.  My first t-shirt with 'something on it' was blue and said ADIDAS.


Since that time I've lost count of how many t-shirts I've owned with slogans or images emblazoned on the front or back.  I had plenty during my marching band days and then at FSU and finally at Wofford.  And some of them I'm so proud of because I think they're witty or spirited, or they help me connect with people I have common interests with, like Star Wars fans.  One of my favorites came from Williamsburg, VA, and has a fake beer ad on the back--"Founding Fathers Lager."  It's near to my heart because while I have tremendous respect for our Revolutionary leaders, I don't worship them as demigods, and it makes me smile to think that they surely tossed back a few cold ones as they were in the process of creating a nation.


However, I've noticed a trend in t-shirts, especially those aimed at teens and women in their twenties, shirts that sport attitude and sass.  Things like 'Sorry Not Sorry' or 'I Run on Coffee and Sarcasm' or 'I Can't Adult Today.'  And I always wonder, when I see them on some young woman's chest, is that really the message that she wants to send to the world? (And then I usually think to myself, 'good lord, Tracy, you are getting OLD!')


So here, finally, is my thesis---words and images on clothing matter, but when it's just words, those words speak the loudest.  If I see a woman with a bird on her shirt, I might think 'she's a free spirit' or 'she likes birds' or 'what a cute shirt.'  But if her shirt says "I LOVE EAGLES" then I know something concrete, don't I?  She's a billboard for a certain belief.  Sure, shirts with just words can bear more than one interpretation (irony, anyone?) but I think most viewers take them at proverbial face value.  If your shirt says "I don't care" then a reasonable person is going to assume a reasonable thing about you...that you don't care and whatever you are doing while wearing that shirt is of no consequence to you.


I'm always arguing for dress that is appropriate to the occasion.  I'd never say "a woman over 40 cannot wear a trendy jacket."  I hate purely age-based fashion rules, and I know plenty of remarkably fashionable women who flaunt them.  But as I've aged, I've begun to question when I can or should wear a shirt with words on it.  I'm 54 years old, and while I'd love to be mistaken for 35 (dream on, Revels!) I don't want to be mistaken for an immature and shallow person of any age.  I like being casual, but I don't want to be slovenly, and I certainly don't want anyone to look at me and think 'really, lady?' because of an ill-chosen script.  I tell myself that a t-shirt with something on it is OK for the house or a quick trip to grab bread at Publix, or to show my solidarity with my college and my department  (I love my shirt that reads 'Badass Historian'---wore it while giving Final Exams!) but when I'm truly 'in public,' maybe I need a different, more mature look. 


So does Melania's jacket matter?  In the long run, probably not, and yes, there are many more important things that we should be discussing.  But for those of us who have an interest in clothes and fashion, I think it's a discussable moment.  I would never say that clothes with messages should be banned or discarded completely after a certain age, because there's still that part of me that's turning 13 years old and is so excited about a new, somewhat daring thing in my wardrobe.  But this First Lady kerfuffle is a good reminder that clothes TALK.  They send messages whether we think about them or not. (Ever heard the old expression that the only way not to talk with your clothes is to go naked?  Admittedly, that would send another signal entirely!)  And, especially for people who are going to be in the public gaze, it might be worth taking that extra moment, before slipping into something, to ask 'What does this say?  Is this going to send a message about me that I really don't intend it to send?  Is this reflective of who I am? Is it just going to confuse people?'  Melania's jacket left me scratching my head---though perhaps that was her intent all along.

Can Graduation Be In Fashion?

I have a confession---I marched in every graduation I had, which means I donned the cap and gown five times (high school, junior college, BA, MA, PHD).  In all honesty I enjoyed my graduations  I liked donning the regalia and feeling that no matter how silly I looked, I had accomplished something and was moving on to a new stage in life!  I was proud to place the order for the doctoral gown that I would wear for the rest of my career.  I really need to order a new mortarboard or tam because the one I have now is about two sizes too big and won't stay on my head---did I have a bigger head when I got the degree? A higher opinion of myself?  More brains?  Who knows!

So here's a question---can one be fashionable at graduation?  The whole point of a cap and gown is to provide both uniformity and academic information.  The gown illustrates the degree that is being awarded and the variations in sleeve length and cut, the presence of a hood, etc. are all very important.  Someone familiar with the code can look at a graduate and know a number of details about her.  Once (MANY years ago) a photographer at a Wofford ceremony stopped me and asked me what my major was and if I was excited to be receiving my degree.  I was both deeply offended (Excuse me, do you see these velvet bars and satin hood?  That means I have a terminal degree, Dude!) and deeply appreciative (You think I could be 21 years old?  Oh, God bless you, Mister!).

But what about underneath the gown?  Wofford holds its graduation ceremony outdoors, which means that by the time the last BS recipient trots across the stage the weather is getting rather warm!

I've learned from a Wofford marshall that the rules about what is acceptable attire for graduates are not as strict as they have been in the past.  Probably many of us remember a time when graduates had to pass an inspection.  I received a long list of does and don'ts for my FSU graduations that certainly would have made for an uncomfortable ceremony in the sun: ladies had to wear dark dresses, hose, black or blue closed in shoes, and gentlemen were required to wear dress shoes, dark slacks, and a white shirt and tie.  I'm going to say that I am a bit old fashioned and I do think that is still the best look for a graduate!  It projects an air of dignity and maturity which never goes out of style.

However, I can also sympathize with young people who want to be as cool as possible and who can't wait for graduation to be over so they can make pictures, go out to eat with their families, and maybe even take an unsanctioned dip in the Wofford fountain.  I'm not going to scowl at young women for sporting sundresses and eschewing hose.  And I also don't fault a young man for wearing khakis or seersucker trousers, or even deck shoes.  But here are some ideas that I do wish our young people would consider:

1. Pictures are forever.  You want to look your best!  So why not clean up a little?  A good haircut and a shave (or proper trimming of facial hair) never hurt anybody.  You don't want to be mistaken for an overly educated Sasquatch.  And please, I know you were out last last night, but get up early enough to wash, dry, and fix your hair.  I'm always amazed at how many graduates go past with dripping locks. (Yes, I know hair will dry during the ceremony, but still...)

2. Try your robe on before graduation morning.  It probably needs to be ironed or at least hung up where steam can get some of the wrinkles out.  That 'fresh out of the box' look is just so high school!

3. Ladies, check the hem of your frock.  If it hangs out way beneath your robe, you might want a shorter dress, or at least one that doesn't look ratty or tattered, or that is so long it is going to impede your march 'past the posts' and into adulthood.

4. Shoes!  I could write fifty blogs on graduation shoes---mainly because from where we sit as faculty members, that's what we notice the most.  I usually get a nice sense of the most popular sandal styles. I'll never forget the year when a strange lime green was the hot color for girls' shoes and all the guys in one fraternity wore gold moon-man boots.  But my thoughts on footwear can be condensed into the following: (a) Wear shoes!  Please!  We are Terriers, not Cavemen!  (b) Remember that you are sitting on chairs on a lawn, and that if you wear stilettos you will have to fight your way out of the turf.  You might want to rethink wearing icepicks on your heels. (c) Wear shoes that you have a level of comfort walking in.  Every year I hold my breath, waiting for disaster when a young woman wobbles across the stage in five inch platforms that she bought the night before.  You don't want to be 'that kid' who broke an ankle in front of President Samhat.

5. Shades.  Bring them, it's going to be bright and (let's face it) some of you are going to be hung over.  But when you rise to go to the stage, leave your sunglasses on your seat.  Mom and Dad paid a LOT of money for that degree---and I may be going out on a limb here, but I bet they'd like to see your baby blues as you receive your diploma.  Unless, of course, taking off your sunglasses means you will toss your cookies on the marshall's feet.  In that case, go incognito in your shades and we'll see you at the reunion!

Not After 30--or 40--or 50--or Really?

I think when fashion writers run out of ideas, they turn to making lists, especially the lists of 'things never to wear after X age.'  Sheeplike, I'm prone to glance at these articles to see what rules are being proclaimed.

And inevitably, I find that I've broken many of them.

For a moment, shame will set in.  (What?  You mean I was supposed to have given up graphic t-shirts 21 years ago!!!  Why didn't I get the memo?  I've been making a fool of myself for two decades!!!)  That will usually be followed by a moment of frustration.  (What's so bad about animal prints?  Not head to toe, I'd never do that, but I love animal prints.)  And there's always the sneer (Well, nobody looks good in tube tops anyway, that's hardly original) followed, finally, by disgust and anger.  Who died and made YOU the arbitrator of all good taste, Fashion Blogger?

Along with being in love with fashion, I'm a historian of women.  So I know how clothes can lead to oppression as easily as to self-expression.  Liberation should bring choice---the choice to follow fads and fashions, or to opt out completely.  Truly, the only rules about what to wear at what age should be personal ones, and every woman's rules would be different.  Otherwise we'd be living in a society that handed out uniforms, and at each decade marker there would be someone waiting with new attire 'appropriate' to the age achieved.  Personally, I'd rather flee to a desert island than be forced to live in a world where, because I'm post-50, I have to chop off my hair, don mom-jeans, and keep my feet in 'sensible' shoes.

What women need more than 'age' lists, I think, are two things: one, a good sense of individualism and self-presentation, and two, a keen awareness of time/place/occasion.  Slavishly following 'trends' doesn't really promote anything except personal debt.  I can't imagine how any woman--well, except maybe a movie star and or a woman who is paid to promote various brands--could afford to ditch her wardrobe every season.  A woman needs to know who she is more than she needs to know the nuances of the latest designer collection.  To me the women who are truly stylish are the ones whose clothes fit their personalities---the bubbly lady in the bright colors, the cool sophisticate in elegant draperies, the athlete in her shorts and tees.  I admire women who can mix it up to fit their moods, and have enough awareness of their body-type and their true size to dress in ways that flatter their physicality.  Clothes that fit---not too big, not too small---are going to get noticed for reasons beyond being the 'latest thing' or 'so her age'.

And I realize that this next statement will put me in the ranks of the old-fashioned, but I do think women (AND MEN!) should understand that our attire 'speaks' to others.  I completely agree with the phrase that the only way not to talk with your clothes is to go naked. (Of course, then you're making another statement, and a pretty powerful one!)  Therefore, we should keep in mind that certain occasions have codes, and that honoring them is not oppression, but a way of showing respect toward the people we are interacting with.  It's why a woman does not wear white to another woman's wedding, or why (unless it was a final request by the dearly departed) a lady shouldn't show up for a funeral in Daisy Duke shorts and flip flops.  A woman who understands rule number one generally understands rule number two.  Perhaps her Sunday suit isn't the most 'recent' or most 'trendy' thing, but she'll be remembered for her good taste---not for being the tacky terror who showed up in a tube top and platform sandals to her great-grandchild's baptism.

So I won't throw out my graphic tees or my animal prints, and I'll probably stand in front of the mirror and have war with myself over whether or not I can wear palazzo pants.  I really don't want to look foolish or embarrass my husband, my mother, or Wofford College.  But I don't think 'rules about age' are as important as rules about occasion (which, again, are more about respecting others and creating an environment where everyone feels comfortable).  A confidant woman is always stylish and a joy to behold, whatever her age, and some of the women I think of as being so cool are those who have kicked 'the rules of age' to the curb.

Please Don't Come Back (In Style!)

I had surgery on my left shoulder in February, which made pretty much everything in life a major struggle, so I hope anyone who has actually enjoyed reading these silly musings will forgive me for  neglecting this blog.  I'm happy to report that I am doing better.  Not completely well yet, but definitely not as miserable as I was for so very long.

I am still going to physical therapy three days a week.  I'm grateful that my therapist is a young woman who, along with being a Wofford grad and very good at her profession, is extremely chatty.  She can always take my mind off discomfort with her stories, especially about the various adventures she and her boyfriend and their crowd of 30-something friends have.  Ah, to be young again!

Today's stories involved watching the USA v. Portugal World Cup match in Greenville.   It seems that she was more interested in scoping out the fashion plates in the crowd than in following the game.  (Sure can't blame her there.  I don't get soccer either.  Of course, I still haven't figured out hockey, basketball, or baseball, so I guess I'm just not much of a sports person.  I think I only understand football due to spending four years in marching band, watching our home team get pummeled on a regular basis...)

Anyway, my therapist noticed that many of the 20 year olds at the event were wearing high-waisted denim shorts. "Just like the 1980s!" I laughed.  She was of the opinion that they were the most hideous things ever.  And...you know what...I think she has a point.  While I'm no fan of very low hip huggers, when I look back at pictures of myself in college, I shudder at my high-waisted jeans that would have given any pair of grandpa-in-a-retirement-home's pants a run for the money.  Yikes.  It didn't help that I had what my mother referred to as a "pot belly" which the high-waisted pants and tucked-in shirts only accented.  If the time machine is ever invented, I don't want to go back and witness some grand historical event, I just want to zip back several decades and give myself some fashion advice.  That, or steal my best friend's camera so she can't record all those disasters for Throwback Thursdays without end.

Now, admittedly, young women with great bodies can get away with wearing high-waisted denim shorts.  I'm sure these teenagers/twenty-year-olds think they've discovered something grand.  But the fashion historian (and survivor) in me can't help but think...ick.  No.  Not this again.

Of course, fashion does have cycles, and yesterday's trend is today's vintage.  With the popularity of shows like Mad Men and so many big movies (American Hustle, Wolf of Wall Street, and even X-Men: Days of Future Past) set in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, the later decades of the 20th Century are having their moments.  What's next, "power suits"?  "Jelly shoes"?  "Leg warmers"?  The mind boggles and the blood runs cold!

So what fashion statement of the last 40 or so years do you hope is safely locked away in the past and won't be unleashed on a runway or sidewalk near you anytime soon?

How (Not?) To Be A Tacky Tourist

Of all the fashion clichés, one of the most recognizable is the “tacky tourist," especially the kind of tourist who vacations in Florida.  It takes almost no effort to dress this individual in one’s imagination.  A loud floral shirt, baggy cargo shorts, either sandals with socks or oversized and out-of-date sneakers, a hat/visor, and a huge camera---bonus points if you add colored zinc oxide on the tourist's nose and the angry red of a sunburn on his previously pasty legs.  His female counterpart is equally unattractive, with even more loudly mismatched prints on her shirt and shorts combo plus an impractically large bag and sassy thong sandals.  Don’t forget the array of ‘native’ bangles and beads that she’s collected on her travels.  Often the tacky tourist couple are trailed by their offspring, which come in one of two varieties: over-stimulated, over-indulged children (easily identified by their character-themed t-shirts, ice cream-stained lips, and tantrum-swollen eyes) and sullen, resentful teenagers (quickly categorized by their embarrassed expressions, shuffling gaits, and permanently implanted earbuds).

A do or a don't?  You decide!

And now here’s the shocking part---I absolutely love these people, in all their shallow, petty glory.  Why?  Because I’m a native Floridian and these folks keep my wacky but dearly beloved home state aloft.  Over 75 million of them visited Florida last year, pumping billions of dollars into the economy.  Untold crimes against fashion can be tolerated when the financial stakes are this high.

And even though I’m a native, I’m frequently a Florida tourist myself.  I love exploring the state, and I take every chance I get to check out some part of it that I’ve never seen before. Only two years ago I saw the Everglades for the first time, and this year I’m looking forward to jaunts to Venice and Palm Coast.  Over the interim break I texted two words to my biologist husband –KEY DEER!  We have to get down to the Keys to see the cutest little critters on the planet.  

Aren't they adorable?  No idea who they are, but I dare anyone to call them tacky!

So as a native and a tourist, could I give advice on how NOT to do the tacky thing when you go to Florida?  Certainly I could, but… honestly, I’d have to say the best thing to do is just embrace the whole tourist vibe.  You’re going on vacation---have fun!  This is Florida, not Paris or Milan, nobody really expects to see high style on our tourists.  Buy the mouse ears and wear them.  Play along with both your inner child and the one you gave birth to.  When I’m in a theme park, the people I see who are having the best time (and really getting their money's worth!) are the ones who left their fashion taste and their dignity at home. 

But you say you still want to look non-tacky?  You cringe at the thought of being forever on Instagram looking like a refugee from a gift shop?  You don't want your future children to laugh at you or your current ones to hang their heads in shame? OK then, here are a few simple pointers from a proud Florida girl.

Sunscreen is your friend!  Use it lavishly!  Florida isn’t called the Sunshine State for nothing, and the easiest way to spot a tourist is by his/her five-alarm skin.  It’s both painful and dangerous to get badly sunburnt.  Oddly enough, many of the folks I grew up with never had suntans.  I think this is because we’re smart enough to worship at the shrine of air conditioning and let the tourists do all the ‘cooking’.

A white blouse and khaki shorts will always be classic; more 'traveler' than 'tourist.'

Dark colors are not chic in Florida.  Leave your dark skinny jeans at home and avoid the temptation to pack  heavyweight tees.  Cool colors in lightweight fabrics will feel the best when the temperature climbs into the 90s.   Don't go for the skin-tight look; remember that if your shirt or blouse is a little loose, air will flow through it.  A crisp, ironed, sleeveless blouse is far more comfortable (and more fashionable) than a tight t-shirt in the daytime, plus a simple blouse with sleeves and a pretty necklace is 'dressy' enough for all but the fanciest restaurants.  Want to be the coolest of all?  Wear white cotton or linen garments.  Ladies might also consider skirts as a stylish and comfortable alternative to pants, at least when browsing all those divine little shops in St. Augustine or Palm Beach. (Editorial confession: I see a lot of Florida women in maxi-dresses.  Personally, I think they look good on maybe one out of a hundred females, and I keep hoping they'll go out of style but they seem very stubborn.  I tried one on and instantly felt (a) ridiculous and (b) like I was wrapped up in a stifling blanket.  But if you think you can rock it and not melt, go for it!)

No.  Please.  Don't!

Hats are a good idea.  Invest in a nice, lightweight cloth or straw one.  Avoid the styles that have a theme park logo wrapped around them or are so big they shade you and your three kids.  You want to go for something that protects your face but also has a certain amount of discretion.

Whatever shoes you plan to take---whether practical sneakers, chunky but comfy walking shoes, or sandals of any variety---should be thoroughly broken in before you ever leave home.  And by broken in I don’t mean worn once to Publix---I mean broken in thoroughly!  Or better yet, take an older set of shoes, even if they aren’t as cute as your new ones.  There is nothing adorable about blood blisters.  And for the love of Mickey Mouse, don’t wear flip flops to a theme park!  This is the number one mistake that visitors make.  Flip-flops are perfect for soft, sandy beaches and for lounging around the hotel pool.  Theme parks like Disney, Universal, and Busch Gardens are paved in hard, HOT concrete; a visit in high summer can leave the unwary pedestrian crippled in less than an hour.  Also, with scrambling on and off rides, flip flops are hazardous. The last place in the Magic Kingdom you want to visit is the first aid station, especially if Goofy is the physician on call.

And my final bit of fashion advice---don’t be a pack mule.  Being weighted down with heavy purses, camera bags, fanny packs, etc is both impractical and unattractive.  It leads to sweating, soreness, and grumpiness plus…it makes you look like a tourist.  Stop being a cheapskate, Dad.  It isn’t worth the labor to haul a day’s worth of chow on your back just to avoid paying slightly more for burgers and fries in a park.  Nobody looks good fumbling with maps; download the map app instead on your cell phone to free your hands.  Of course you want pictures, so do bring your camera.  A quality camera bag can pull double duty as a carry-all for basic necessities.  Ladies should invest in a sleek across the body purse, and keep it as light as possible.  Shades, identification, credit card, sunscreen, and you’re ready to have almost any adventure Florida has to offer.

I’ve read hundred of articles on ‘how to blend in’ or ‘how not to look like a tourist.’  But face it, if you're in Disney World or on the beach in the first place, you are a tourist!  You're not going to fool anyone that you're a local.  So enjoy your travels, take lots of pictures, and later in life look back at your journeys with fond memories and a giggle over what you wore while making them.

My Seventh Grade Fashion Lesson

It's never pleasant to learn a lesson 'the hard way.'  But one thing is certain, a lesson that is driven home painfully will be one that sticks for a lifetime.

(It wasn't exactly this Ann Taylor blouse---but I felt like a young fashionista anyway!)

When I was in seventh grade, I had a favorite blouse.  It was a hand-me-down from a neighbor, made of silky-finished white cotton with long sleeves and a big ruffle in the front.  The ruffle was trimmed all around with red thread.  (Before you laugh too loudly at what sounds like a disco abomination, please remember this was the mid-1970s.)  My imagination ran wild whenever I had the shirt on; it wasn't exactly age appropriate, and I was thrilled by the idea of wearing something that a 'college girl' had cast aside!  Plus, the shirt was completely different from everything else in my wardrobe, which at that time included 'matched sets' of jeans and blouses that had to be altered every other week, thanks to my growth spurts.  If I could have, I probably would have worn my ruffled shirt every day, I loved it so much.  But washday came on the weekend, so I got into the habit of donning it every Monday.

All I was thinking about was how that blouse made me feel.  It never occurred to me that anyone else might have noticed my habit of starting the week out with fancy ruffles.  But one morning, just as the homeroom bell was ringing, the boy who was our version of 'big man on campus'---the football player who all the girls made goo-goo eyes at and all the boys tried to be as cool as---stopped in front of my desk.  He looked down, pointed, and yelled to the entire class, "Hey, that must be your MONDAY SHIRT!  You only wear it on MONDAY!"  Guffawing loudly, he sat down, and his taunt was picked up by all his flunkies.  'Monday shirt, Monday shirt, Tracy has a Monday shirt.'

Ugh.  Trust me, if time travel is ever invented, I'm signing up no matter how much it costs.  It'd be worth it just to throw a few punches.  I have a good memory.  And a list.

I'd done nothing wrong; my blouse simply had the misfortune to be ostentatious enough for a bully to use it as a delivery device.  But I learned that if the dullest observer in the classroom had latched onto my monotony, maybe I needed to recognize it in myself.  I was blessed with a mother who made sure I had plenty of clothes; I knew how lucky I was in this regard.  I needed to appreciate that more.

I also learned that predicability is one of the banes of fashion.  It's very easy to get into a rut with certain pieces, to wear them so often they become more than just Monday or Tuesday or Friday blouses.  Even if one's wardrobe is limited by necessity, making small chances to an outfit---pairing it with a scarf on this day, a necklace on another, or dressing it 'up' or 'down'---makes the clothing more interesting and the wearer far less predictable.

And even the most hardworking outfit needs the occasional Monday off....

Men and Hats

Why don’t men wear hats anymore?  Why is it so rare to see a gentleman under the age of seventy sporting a Panama or a bowler or a homburg these days?  The answer to these inquiries is simple---John F. Kennedy, young and stylish and oh-so-handsome, destroyed the men’s hat industry when he arrived bareheaded at his inauguration.  Everybody knows that!

But wait a second---let a historian intervene with an inconvenient fact that destroys a delightful myth. (This is what we live for, as you might imagine.)  JFK was NOT hatless at his inauguration.  While he did not wear a hat to give his speech (who would?) he certainly wore the traditional high silk hat and the rest of his very formal morning dress on that cold January day in 1961.  There is plenty of photographic evidence to back this up.

So why do we blame our president for this fashion crime?  It’s true that JFK did not favor hats, and that he was almost always photographed without one.  He flatly refused to have his picture taken in the ridiculous chapeaus that were often given to him as souvenirs of presidential visits.  On the morning of his assassination, he was presented with a traditional Texas ten-gallon hat, but deftly deflected the demand that he don it by offering reporters the chance to snap him in it at the White House the following week.  Tragically, no one would ever get the chance to request that he make good on his playful promise.

So why did men stop wearing hats?  I don’t think there’s any one answer to this question, but everyone has a theory.  World War II may have had an impact, as returning GIs longed for non-regulation attire.  Many of them undoubtedly felt that hats reminded them of uniform caps and helmets.  Kennedy’s brief tenure as president certainly sent a fashion statement to men of his generation, especially those blessed, like the president, with great hair.  And within a few weeks of Kennedy’s death, the Beatles took America by storm.  No hats for these famous mop-heads!  The 1960s was an age of youth and rebellion; hats were a casualty, a remnant of conformity and stodginess.  Formal headwear for men just never came back into style.

And I think that’s a crying shame.  Frankly, my dear, I want men to wear hats again!  Perhaps I am in a minority, but I do not think I am alone.  Surely fifty years is enough of a gap for hats to rotate around on the fashion wheel.  And just to be clear, in my mind a ‘cap’ is not a ‘hat.’  Living in the South, I see a plethora of caps, mainly with school or sports logos above the brim and plenty that (shudder) are covered in camouflage print.  Even worse, I see lots of caps worn backwards.  Gentlemen, permission to speak freely?---You look like the village idiot when you wear your cap that way.  No exceptions here, fellows: I don't care if you are old, young, a rapper, a trucker, a frat boy, a hunter, a professional athlete, or even a very prominent politician, it's BAD!  Sorry to tell you this, but there is nothing that screams ‘I Am STUPID’ louder than a reversed cap.  It was cute when you were five years old, but it's not cute now.  If you have to be a cap wearer, at least be a man and wear the ugly thing correctly.

 

On the contrary, I have never seen a man who looked bad in a true hat.  Every fellow I’ve ever noticed in one seems taller, stronger, smarter, and more confident.  And I wouldn’t insist that every man wear a dull ‘business’ hat when there are so many wonderful styles and shapes to choose from. I love hats designed for hiking and desert explorations; they exude a world traveler vibe.  What man wouldn't want to be mistaken for Indiana Jones?   Prefer to rock a classic look?  A great fedora can turn Joe Average into a modern member of the Rat Pack.  Need some ideas on how to wear a hat?  These famous gentlemen can provide lessons.

I think my husband (who has a vast collection of caps, much to my dismay) looks especially handsome in the distressed leather drover hat that he bought on a trip to Colorado.  And some of my fellow Wofford historians have been spotted in stylish hats that make them look even taller than they already are (and trust me, we have the tallest department on campus!).  There’s just no excuse for any man to lack at least one distinctive hat in his wardrobe.  For the man who wants to stand out in the crowd, nothing will set him apart faster.

But that may well be the problem.  Women are mocked all the time for conforming to the current look.  Excuse me, but I think it is the guys who tend to be the sheep, just following the herd, never wanting to be unique or original.  To be truly stylish and debonair, in the way that will make ladies' hearts beat faster, requires a level of confidence and individuality that perhaps most men, for all their boasting, generally lack.