The Marks of the Well-Dressed Man

A Lot of Popular blather to the contrary, clothes do not make the man. A legion of clods and insufferable melon-brains have for centuries misquoted and misinterpreted the Bard, who had the good wisdom to pen for one of those Olivier flicks: "Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, but not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; for the apparel oft proclaims the man." And most guys today could use a bit of proclamation.

After all, the average urbanite gets few chances to exhibit his penetrating philosophy of life or reveal his blinding pyrotechnics of wit. But if he is well turned out ("rich, not gaudy") and the cut of his jib is trim ("but not express'd in fancy"), he is immediately proclaimed a lad who knows his way around. The duds he wears do much to conceal or reveal the kind of a gink he is.

As you should know by this time, had you been following these columns zealously, being well-appointed is not a hit-or-miss proposition. It is a carefully-planned strategem involving a broad view and a close watch on details. But once mastered, it is a process that becomes as effortless (and rewarding) as sampling 20-year-old Armagnac from a snifter.

Herewith, then, a top-to-bottom takeout on the distinguishing marks of a well-attired fellow, and what makes him that way.

Starting topside, most knowing men choose a snap-brimmed hat for city wear, with narrow brim and tapered crown, of course. It really doesn't make too much difference whether the bow sits on the back of the hat or the side. Tyrolean shapes or small-brimmed English sports (continued on page69) Well-Dressed Man (continued from page 47) caps that look so right with tweeds in the country were never, we fear, meant to top off a pin-striped flannel or blue worsted suit in the shadow of the Chrysler Building. And those flamboyant straws that add so much native color to the Bahamas were never intended to flourish more than a few miles from the beach. In most cases, it is best to leave the picturesque upper-story to be told in suburbia or aboard the cruise ships. If you suffer from an occasional temptation to clamp a bowler or homburg on your noggin, fight it, unless you happen to look like Winthrop Aldrich. And should the urge to take a flyer in a brilliantly colored hatband overtake you, stop to consider how it's going to work with the rest of your outfit. Some handsome hatbands (a striking rep stripe, for example) have a certain go-to-hell rakishness that is desirable, provided that dash of color isn't repeated elsewhere and its impact destroyed. Small bits of feathers, silver insignia and a badger brush add a flavor of moor and mountain to country garb, but if one is really not the open-air type to carry it off, it is advisable to leave these impedimenta to country squires and game wardens.

The choosing of shirts distinguishes the wisely-dressed man from the merely buttoned-up cipher. Although the exposed shirt beneath the suit covers a comparatively small part of the overall anatomy, it is the center of focal interest, along with the necktie. Time was when the selection of shirts was a snap, because most of them were white. The emergence of the pink shirt changed all that, and now there's a whole palette of colors, a galaxy of patterns and more collar styles than one cares to count. This embarrassing abundance raises shirt shopping from rather primitive barter to discriminating selection. The fact that color has been added in heaping portions to shirts doesn't necessarily make them better. It's only when the color is correct that the difference becomes apparent, and now the yellows look particularly right. They range from the palest champagnes, which we prefer to downright maizes. The best thing about them is that there isn't a suit color we can think of that they don't pal up with perfectly. Good with grays, news with blues, they're just as distinguished with tans and greens. Blue shirts continue to wield their particular brand of appeal – and with good reason. The undeniable freshness and becomingness of blue is intensified in stripes, neat checks and in small all-over polka dots – important details in the big blue picture for spring. Other colors which have a rather specialized use are red, usually in collaboration with white, and browns that also take on the same partner. To be avoided are the pale greenish blues and any tone that smacks of violet. Pink shirts today are relegated to a distant niche in limbo. Assuming that your neck is a fairly well-balanced column separating your head from your shoulders, many collar styles are on the shelves of every emporium that calls itself a haberdashery. The whole approach is towards comfort, and the button-down model is practically the uniform of the well-dressed man for wear in the midst of the city or beyond its limits. Tab collars have a formal kind of dignity but dictate a rather special kind of dressing that is more rigid than most men care to effect. The new lower-cut spread collars, while universally becoming and very well done by good makers, have to be carefully selected. Frequently they can turn an otherwise well-garbed individual into a Nathan Detroit, and can make a really well-cut suit look like a pretty gaudy set of threads. Cuffs come in two varieties: the barrel shape that buttons comfortably and is correct for almost any occasion, and the French, which is dressier and worn only with suits, never sports jackets.

Colors in suitings are an endless subject, one fraught with pitfalls because it gets into the realm of personal reaction and individual taste, the most sensitive area in human make-up since Achilles' heel. While not concurring with Lord Curzon, who said that no gentleman wears brown, there are certain colors that no man who makes the slightest pretense to dressing well would ever be caught dead in – namely, pearl gray and bright blue. And there are certain shades of brown that should be avoided like the plague. These are the ones that have a reddish understone, no matter how slight. Brown should always have a blackish cast. Certain tones of tan can wreak havoc with certain complexions that are less than ruddy. These tans possess an unfortunate pink glow or else a yellowish cast that suggests liver complications. Tans, if worn at all, should always go the gray side and should never be coupled with dark brown gabardine slacks, an unfortunate combination popular with woeful young men who would rather spend their spare time with motors than with maidens.

Textures and weaves of various suit fabrics that a man chooses indicate more than a surface knowledge of dressing well. The too bold pattern, too hairy tweed, too nubby or too shiny material are in the same class as Charles Atlas shoulders and hand-painted ties. Exaggeration, that bigger-than-life approach, completely overpowers the average guy to such an extent he is changed from a person to a pile of fabric or a plaid that walks like a man. Naturally this plea for moderation doesn't mean a complete wardrobe of smooth finishes, but is just a bit of avuncular advice worth noting. Striking weaves and imaginative textures always add that necessary stamp of originality, but they should always be kept in their place, that of a supporting role, never the star attraction.

Now let's take ties. It is at this point that the man in the know is separated from old Joe Schmoe. Black ties are all right and safe provided you want to look like you live in Old Cliche and make rare trips to the city. Something a little more daring won't be excessive. There are plenty of restrained paisleys, stripes and all-over designs in warm pleasant colors that are extremely good-looking, provided the colors both in tie and shirt are related and the patterns don't fight for supremacy. With figured shirts, solid reps and baratheas are always acceptable, but not outstanding. It is a mark of real taste to put patterns together successfully. For example, with checked or plaid shirts, narrow striped ties in the same color or colors immediately raise a man above the crowd. With the multitude of striped shirts, it is best to get a solid-color effect in the tie. But if the shirt stripes are very narrow and spaced close together, the tie pattern can be bolder without branding one as untouchable. Most of these suggestions apply to city dressing. The casual counterpart gives the knitted ties and the woolens bigger play. Since most country shirts are fairly unrestrained, ties keep pretty much in the background and tend toward solid colors.

The man who wants to stand up and be counted among the well-dressed must have his feet on the ground in the right shoes. Currently, they are going along with the lightness bit, with a strong line of demarcation separating the town from the country shoe. There's no doubt that the Italian bootmakers have made their mark on the footsteps of our time. Strictly an urban arrangement, the fine Italian boot is here to stay. Its thinsoled slimness and streamlined contours were never created to complement heavy tweeds or other country trappings. Conversely, moccasins and desert boots were never born to tread city thoroughfares. That's it – and never the twain shall be interchangeable. Black and cordovan are the colors for town, with a wider range available for ranging the wide-open spaces, such as russet and the ubiquitous olive green. Smooth finished leather is the rule for business wear and while it still runs into the life of leisure, the rougher finishes like bucko or reverse calf have a nice country air. And we shall leave the suedes to suave con- (concluded on next page) Well-Dressed Man (continued from page 69) Well-Dressed Man (continued from page 69) tinentals and Elvis Presley. Avoid also any kind of leather shoe in blue or gray, and particularly those with built-in ventilating systems.

Among the most important secrets of dressing well are the small items, the minutiae that many men overlook. Too much jewelry is to be avoided, and this includes gigantic American Legion rings, elaborate watchbands, blockbuster tie clasps and cuff links. Keep a fresh white handkerchief in your jacket pocket if you wish – many impeccably-attired guys wouldn't step out for a newspaper without one, but don't fold it so it comes out with pointed ends. Keep it flat, with about one-half inch of linen running parallel to the top of the pocket.

However well you select your head-to-toe garb, though, you'll still look like a bum or a bumpkin if you wear it – and treat it – badly. A $300 suit that's spotted or unpressed will not impress; $15 cashmere socks unsupported by garters can make your nether portion look like a pair of walking accordions; a Cavanagh sky-piece worn on the back of the bean or tilted over an eyebrow is wasted on its wearer, as are unshined and heel-worn shoes, ill-fitting and smudged linen, a wrinkled tie, a missing sleeve button. Remember, high initial cost (and we don't mean ornate monograms) is no substitute for conscientious upkeep.

As a summing up, we'd like to submit an excerpt from a letter Lord Chesterfield, of overcoat and cigarette fame, wrote to his son, who, as it happened, turned out to be a hopeless slob anyway: "Take great care always to be dressed like the reasonable people of your own age in the place where you are; whose dress is never spoken of one way or another, as either too negligent or too much studied." Sage advice, we think.