“Leave The Sweat Shirt at Home. Dining Dress Codes Are Back,” declared @nytimes several weeks back. Social media has been awash with controversy regarding the post.
Menswear blogger Derek Guy @dieworkwear exposes a matrix of the genre picturing Pennsylvania Democratic senate primary winner John Fetterman garbed in his populist campaign street style cargo shorts with defeated opponent Conor Lamb, poor Ivy Style lamb.
The Yale Club of New York next to J. Press has reset rules relieving the pain that the former coat and tie requirement might have rendered current woke alumni members. Cole Porter Yale ’13, might well turn over in his grave observing old Boola Boola Eli Yale Club costumed as if from a verse in his classic Anything Goes.
The rulebook unequivocally states, “On a temporary basis, the following changes will be in effect: Denim Pants: neat, clean, and in good repair (no holes, rips, or tears) are permitted throughout the entire Clubhouse. Shorts are permitted within the Clubhouse from Memorial Day to Labor Day, provided they are not made of denim, or athletic in nature. Athletic shorts are only permitted in the athletic facilities. Non-athletic shoe wear that has a “sneaker-like” sole is permitted throughout the entire Clubhouse.” Not permitted: tee shirts, tank tops, casual sandals (such as flip flops or Birkenstocks), athletic wear of any kind (including sweatpants, caps, cross-trainers, or tennis shoes, and team jerseys), and torn, provocative, or revealing clothing.
The upscale restaurant cited in aforementioned NY Times article, Les Trois Chevaux, upstages the Yale Club hanging E-Bay looking “blazers” practically on a dry-cleaning rack to redress their coatless social climbing patrons.
Jack and Charlie late of their lamented “21 Club” offered their Peter Arno archetype coatless patrons the choice of well-tailored proxy Sport Coats quietly stored in the back of the cloakroom. Their coat and tie gospel was a well-kept secret among the cognoscenti.
Times have changed. Holding the fort against hoi polloi Slobbovia may be a losing proposition in Circus Americanus. Rules are made to be broken.
In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking but now, God knows Anything Goes
RICHARD PRESS
24件のコメント
Approximately 25 years ago I made reservations at the Water Club in NYC for a bachelor dinner for a party of 10. Without even confirming with the restaurant ,I told my friends that jacket and tie were required. Some were
quite annoyed to learn that this was not the actual dress code. I told them “too bad.”
Interesting article. It is clear that we are leaving in a “new abnormal”. Having said that, there is nothing wrong with adhering to a personal code of dressing appropriately and well under the circumstances. The world truly has changed but it does not mean that we should tolerate sloppy dress or boorish behavior. Karl Lagerfeld once said that sweatpants are surrender. I could not agree more-keep the flame alive J. Press. As long as you are around to set the standard, the barbarians will not breach the gate.
To misuse a dramatic book title I can honestly say that maintaining a wardrobe of classic clothing has occasionally qualified as a "Magnificent Obsession, " As you know very well the clothing industry seems to require “something new” at regular intervals. To me the experiments in "something new " often enter the absurd. Without JPress, Brooks Brothers and a small number of traditional clothing stores usually located in college towns, I would have great difficulty finding full collar generously cut buttondowns; anything in corduroy, seersucker or madras; bow and regimental striped ties and traditional loafers . All of these and many other traditional wardrobe items have given me the physical and mental certainty that I am appropriately attired anywhere, at any time in the last sixty years.
Thank you for excellent quality and timeless design in your clothing and for helping me maintain my Magnificent Obsession with traditional men’s clothing.
We should know rules are made to be broken. Witness our four years on the Hanover plain. Ours certainly was a Circus Americanus with an Ivy Stripe.
Well said!