Single Man Haberdashery

I generally don’t regard myself as a dedicated follower of fashion. My wardrobe is most noteworthy for its mono-chromatic color scheme (blue on blue) and ease of care. Nevertheless, I was astounded recently when I began to take an accounting of the surprisingly numerous times that I ventured into the fickle world of style.

The 50’s

Snap-jacks--My one elementary school flirtation with style consisted of a pair of black shoes with an external hinged tongue. You opened the hinge, put in your foot, and closed the hinge. It even squeaked. Does anyone else remember these? It’s possible I’m hallucinating.

The 60’s
Clamdiggers--Before Capri pants there were pedal-pushers. The male version was called clamdiggers. They were calf-length pants with a rope belt and contrasting piping down the leg. I had two pair, black and white. They were particularly fetching when worn with a striped boat-neck jersey.
Collegiate ensemble--In the mid-sixties, I was resplendently preppy in my tan Barracuta jacket (remember the plaid lining?), white Levi’s, and…inexplicably…wing-tip dress shoes.
Roger McGuinn sunglasses--When I got my $35 Silvertone guitar, I picked out the opening riff to “Mr. Tambourine Man” and bought some of those wire-rim sunglasses with the tiny lenses. Then I’d sit in a public place for hours, plunking away, waiting for girls to go crazy. I’m still waiting. In a week or two, if I make the charts, the girls will tear me apart.
Hippie ensemble--In the late sixties, I wouldn’t have been caught Dead without my leather headband, fringed vest, navy surplus bells, and harness boots. After all, you can’t be counter-culture if you’re out of uniform.

The 70’s

Designer jeans--These were jeans with fancy stitching on the back pockets. Mine were Jordache. I would put them on, stand backwards before a full length mirror, and look at my own buttocks. Everyone else was admiring theirs, too. Designer jeans were particularly well-matched with Izod Lacoste polo shirts, readily identifiable by the little alligator on the chest. Sometime in 1978, someone blew a whistle, and the alligator was replaced by the polo pony.
Work-out suit--People paid good money for double-knit elastic-waist pants and zippered jackets with stripes on the sleeves and legs. Then they would wear them to cocktail parties. Mine was navy blue with red and white stripes. Natty, just so natty.
Sweats by E.B.E.--Cotton pants with a drawstring waist and piping, Sweats were a brief phenomenon, but I had three pairs. Made without a fly, they were particularly awkward to wear at a public urinal, especially when there was a line behind you. Sweats by E.B.E. were popular at about the same time leg warmers were being worn by girls and women who were not ballerinas.

The 80’s

Members Only jacket--In the early eighties men of discriminating taste wore these nylon jackets with some kind of vestigial strap attached to the collar. Apparently, if a hurricane were suddenly to hit, the wearer could snap the strap around his neck and thus be protected from the ravages of nature.
Champion Sweatshirts--Although these “reverse-weave” sweatshirts had been around for years, I never owned one because they cost $30. Then, suddenly, they became the new biggest thing, and the price went up to $50. I bought three.
LL Bean leather bomber jacket--In the late eighties it became urgent that I look like a WW2 pilot flying missions over the European theater. I stopped short of wearing the leather goggle-helmet. I still have this jacket; if it ever wears out, I can send it to LL Bean, and they’ll send me a new one.

The 90’s

CB Ski Parka--The little CB logo added a C-note or so to this parka, but I will admit, it was a quality item. Mine was teal, black, and purple--what was I thinking? I wore the jacket only while skiing, and it was indestructible, so finally I gave it to a homeless mission. Somewhere, a homeless man walks the streets quite warmly and quite gaily attired.
Nautica jacket--I still have this blue cotton jacket with “Nautica Challenge" stitched down the left arm in white, and “J-Class 1930-1937” stitched on the right in green. If the America’s Cup ever switches back to J-Boats, I’m heading straight to the Ida Lewis Yacht Club in Newport to sign on. Hell, I already have the jacket.

The new millennium

Convertible cargo pants--These are pants with innumerable pockets. You can unzip them right above the knee and convert them into shorts. This makes a lot of sense when I am launching a boat but don’t want to stay in shorts. It makes less sense when I am teaching Hamlet, but I sometimes wear them anyway. They just make me feel so cool.

There were a number of sartorial miscues that I did manage to avoid. I never owned a Nehru jacket or a leisure suit (particularly the heinous powder blue leisure suit). I missed out on Nantucket reds and pants with embroidered whales, but I did own yellow pants to wear with a blue blazer. I was left out of the entire "ankle treatment" phenomenon. Grunge affected me only by accident, since that look usually overtook me by the third day of any three-day weekend.

These days, I shake my head sadly at the misguided youths wearing out-of-kilter baseball caps, do-rags and baggy pants at half-mast. Some things are just...ridiculous.