Accessory to the Crime
May. 19th, 2008 04:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"Fashion is what you adopt when you don't know who you are."
- Quentin Crisp
I am by no means a fashionable guy. I don't even like the word "fashion." I don't fashioin anything, I don't know anything about fashion, and I certainly don't fashion any fashionable fashion, in any fashion. There are, however, a number of principles that govern my sense of sartorial style, such as it is. One of these is: you wear the clothes, not the other way around.
This principle came into play as I was shopping for ties on Saturday. I have a shopper's weakness for monochromatic ties. These are commonly referred to as "power ties," perhaps because they are favored by power tools and pompous pontificators like Donald Trump. But I prefer these ties for the opposite reason: playful patterns and complex decorations tend to distract people so that they are paying attention to my tie instead of paying attention to me. The things I am doing and saying should always be what people notice about me.
A tie should be just boring enough to make people look at my face. Simple, elegant, single-colored ties are perfect for this. (Also, they are easier to match with shirts, pants and suits.) So I bought three of them.
It is for this same reason that I avoid apparel with writing on it, such as advertising for the store where I purchased it, ironic retro-themed designs evoking comic book characters or household items, or blatantly alcoholic/misognist scumwear.
The exception to this rule applies when the writing conveys support for a place or institution with which I am closely affiliated, as they serve as true conversation pieces, i.e. a college sweatshirt, the jersey of my favorite baseball team, or apparel that espouses my deeply held religious beliefs.
Of course, I do own several garishly designed hawaiian shirts, for when I want people to be distracted because I'm talking out of my ass and I want to avoid intense scrutiny. If only I had a font for this journal that did the same thing.
- Quentin Crisp
I am by no means a fashionable guy. I don't even like the word "fashion." I don't fashioin anything, I don't know anything about fashion, and I certainly don't fashion any fashionable fashion, in any fashion. There are, however, a number of principles that govern my sense of sartorial style, such as it is. One of these is: you wear the clothes, not the other way around.
This principle came into play as I was shopping for ties on Saturday. I have a shopper's weakness for monochromatic ties. These are commonly referred to as "power ties," perhaps because they are favored by power tools and pompous pontificators like Donald Trump. But I prefer these ties for the opposite reason: playful patterns and complex decorations tend to distract people so that they are paying attention to my tie instead of paying attention to me. The things I am doing and saying should always be what people notice about me.
A tie should be just boring enough to make people look at my face. Simple, elegant, single-colored ties are perfect for this. (Also, they are easier to match with shirts, pants and suits.) So I bought three of them.
It is for this same reason that I avoid apparel with writing on it, such as advertising for the store where I purchased it, ironic retro-themed designs evoking comic book characters or household items, or blatantly alcoholic/misognist scumwear.
The exception to this rule applies when the writing conveys support for a place or institution with which I am closely affiliated, as they serve as true conversation pieces, i.e. a college sweatshirt, the jersey of my favorite baseball team, or apparel that espouses my deeply held religious beliefs.
Of course, I do own several garishly designed hawaiian shirts, for when I want people to be distracted because I'm talking out of my ass and I want to avoid intense scrutiny. If only I had a font for this journal that did the same thing.
