Category Archives: men’s fashion

Clothes Makes the Dad?

“Dad, why do you always wear nice clothes on a Saturday? I mean, you have on a nice shirt and stuff. To go to Costco.”

This was not a compliment. It was an indictment on my personal style. See, a while back I ran a men’s lifestyle website with a good friend of mine. Our whole shtick was that most guys don’t know or care about looking good and behaving well, but should. We gave it to them as guys, not fashion gurus or former models. Care because it makes a difference; because people notice; because you might get laid. Just Be Better Guys. And while I always cared about clothes, having the business meant I had to look the part, even on weekends. Sweats and t-shirts? Only if I am heading to the gym or lounging in the morning at the house. Jeans to work? Maybe 5 times a year, usually with a move or a holiday as the excuse. It drives my wife crazy, who is an acceptably dressed, business-causal modern woman, but thinks I’m nuts. If I wear a sports jacket to party or night out, it’s too much. Why get dressed up for a movie? It’s dark anyway.

Joyne Girls in Daddys ClothesI blame my mom. I couldn’t go out to a department store or downtown without a button-down shirt and long pants, at least. For several years after, I rebelled–horrible pants known as “action slacks” around the 1980s DMV (District, Maryland, and Virginia), baseball caps with the crowns pushed in. My dad cared, but only if it was church or a special event. As long as my shoes were polished and tie was tied, I was good. He did take offense to my desire to wear shiny maroon pants to a wedding. My older brother has a nickel in this dime, too. He’s always been a clotheshorse. This is a man who hasn’t owned a pair of jeans since the Reagan administration. He worked me into some semblance of an acceptable-looking male before I took it on from there.

My own style ranges from somewhat preppy to 60s jazz crooner. I love color and would rather be a bit over the top than too understated. I’m against Crocs, the over-proliferation of plaid flannel shirts as an urbane fashion statement, suits with sneakers, people who don’t own an iron, and too much starch in your shirts. I’m a big believer in season-appropriate gear, so regardless of what my wife says, I love white pants in the summer, draw the line at the full Cleveland.

My girls have now internalized this struggle between getting dressed and dressing up. One would wear dresses and patent leather Mary Janes every day; the other prefers sweats and her Nike running shoes over anything. Both love bright colors and but are really careful about making sure their clothes match–my wife used to yell “no match!” at her dad when she was a kid, so the girls get it honestly. They seem to like dad when I “look handsome” but just not to overdue it.  Which means no poplin suit for brunch on Sunday. And I had the perfect shirt for it, too.

Recycle, Repair, Reuse

dark brown suede shoes
Cole-Haan suede double monks dyed dark brown

When possible, my wife and I try to teach our girls to repair before replacing. “Let’s get new tires on your (sister’s/cousin’s) bike” before buying another. I tend to salvage things, especially things I chose and purchased before moving on to a new item. Why not exhaust all options first? This means I’ve spent many dollars repairing things like several suits, pants, sweaters, shoes, and overcoats. I have a coat that is at least as old as I am and has been refurbished at least 2 times (buttons, lining, pockets, button holes), after giving up on a coat older than that–honestly, I traded the coat for a grenadine tie before I understood what sort of magic a tailor could work. Why? Because I liked those things and my calculus said that finding a near or exact replacement was much more expensive than fixing the older one. This assumes a few things: your original piece can be salvaged–a moth infestation of our closets laid waste to several items that will never, ever, ever, get back to-gether! (Thanks, Taylor)–and that the repairs look good and not some hatchet job. No need fixing a sweater if it costs more than the sweater’s worth or if it looks like Freddy Kruger did the work.

This leads to the story of a pair of tan shoes. I bought them as a pair of non-traditional shoes for summer–a tan, suede Cole Rood Haan (their heritage vintage line within the greater Cole-Haan brand), double-monk-strap, apron-front with a rounded point shoe.  No bucks or penny loafers or driving shoes, but something to wear to work and for a night out. They were just that, except for one problem. The dye job was a bit off. Subtly, once the shoes were worn and exposed to sunlight, the monk-strap on one started to darken. It’s nearly a year before the change happened, but eventually, it became an overt sign of a defect. The problems were two: I love the shoes and now I’d had them over a year when the final change occurred. So I decided to have them dyed. Not the first time I’d done it: see, 1993, (grey penny loafers to black). I wanted them to be a dark brown for fall and winter, and because I thought a darker color would make more sense–hide my mistake in checking the details. I’ll admit, I’ve been given to an impulse buy, which I might not have been as willing to own up to at the time.

The cobbler I use has done wonders with damaged items before and is honest enough to admit when he can’t do something well. He was skeptical about getting to brown, but was willing to try, with the caveat I was OK with taking them to black if it didn’t work out. The shoes couldn’t stay tan and I’d paid more than enough to justify the investment–the dye job was less than 1/3 of what it would cost to replace the shoes. It took a while, but you can see the results. I’ll let you be the judge, but I think it worked out OK. I don’t mind the wear marks, because they were worn before the work was done. But salvaging shoes so as not to spend money to replace, or throw them out seemed to make sense. I’ve got other things to spend my money on. There are braces, dance lessons, and new bicycles in my immediate future.  Recycle, repair, and reuse.