Suit wears the man
Published by Nick atIntroducing this month’s IndieWeb Carnival, Joe connects the dots between cosplay and personal style, in a way I hadn’t given enough consideration before.
The more I cosplay the more I think all clothing is costume. Doing makeup to be a character is not much different from a haircut and a shave. Dressing for Halloween and dressing for a wedding are related. Comic Con, funeral, job interview, first date. We dress to meet a moment. It’s not a purely practical exercise, getting dressed. I can put on things that match my identity, I can put on things that don’t.
I’m a middle aged adult cis-het North American white man, and I never really think about putting on my middle aged cis-het North American white man costume when I get dressed, but it is there. My personal style is a mix of influences from my dad and the other men in my life growing up; things I consciously rejected or chose for myself in my teens and twenties; different places and climates I’ve lived in too.
Writing this up now, I realize how much inhibition is at play in this costume-identity.
I own one suit (dark charcoal) for weddings, funerals, and meeting the President other formal occasions. I will wear a music related tee shirt for going to a rock show. I might put on my baseball jersey and hat when I go to the ballpark, traditional dress for a favorite cultural ritual. I don’t hunt, and there is no camouflage in my wardrobe.
Jeans are worn often, and a denim jacket sometimes. A western shirt with pearl snap buttons? I like those, and I have a couple in my wardrobe. But somehow putting on the wide brim hat or pointed toe cowboy boot is too much for me. I would feel much different if I grew up with horses on a ranch. I do have a bolo tie which I love, but don’t wear nearly enough.
When I was younger, in my twenties and newly out of college I was looking for work and trying to appear professional. I didn’t have a lot of money for clothes, and thrift stores were my friend. I wanted to look good and feel good, too. While I never attended prep school (or an Ivy-adjacent college) I do appreciate certain aspects of Ivy style. Clean, well constructed shirts and trousers in natural fibers is what I gravitated to, as well as blazers or odd jackets. Miles Davis dressed like this in the 1950s and looked awesome. Tweed and corduroy in the winter. Madras and linen for the summer. Occasionally a tie or pocket square. I ended up working in higher education in the South, and I felt like I was blending in with the environment, dressed conservatively even if my politics weren’t.
It always felt like a score when I found a Brooks Brothers shirt in good shape. It was more about buying and wearing something that would last—and even look good once fraying and beat to hell—not the brand name sewn on the collar. But with the Ivy/prep look, there was stuff I wouldn’t wear because I felt like a silly imposter: embroidered “critters” on khakis, shoes without socks. I think I’d need to be a real Old Money W.A.S.P. to pull that off.
There are no aloha shirts in my closet. Always feels like something I can’t pull off. Maybe I would hear the teasing voice of a male relative calling me “Hawkeye Pierce” or something if I were to put one on. I have a bunch of ties, but I can’t look at the skinny ones without thinking of R.F.K. Jr. and recoiling in horror.
Yes, I have an interest in clothing. I have an interest in style. I know my measurements, and I know when something fits. I know a few people who make their own clothes, and I’m jealous of that. I have time to learn to sew. I have time to try more things on, without worrying about looking like I’m trying too hard.
I think what I wear most people might find boring. Hosiery is where the self-expression comes out. I’ll wear socks in any color, any pattern, as long as it is bright and loud.
I am barefoot today, wearing a tee shirt and chino shorts because it is a hot summer day here in the Southwestern U.S. I feel comfortable, because I’m so used to this look I don’t realize it is in fact my costume.