Classic Style

S o, I journeyed into campus early today solely for the purpose of a couple of meetings this morning.  It's a warm and sunny day, so in the spirit of playful irreverence and comfort, I opted to wear decided to wear my salmon-colored pants with a navy blazer, blue & white university stripe oxford cloth button-down, and a pair of dark brown penny loafers.   Once there and on my way into D. Wormer Hall for the first meeting, a male student stopped me to compliment me on the pants with a huge smile and "that" special searching look in his eyes.  Plus a handshake that lasted just a little too long.  I thanked him and continued on my way, but I couldn't help remembering that old Levi's Dockers commercial from the fall of 2000. And no.  The irony of my frequent complaints about the messages people unwittingly send with their clothing and this humorous little episode is not lost on me.  I can hear the chorus of collective jeers and raspberries now.  -- Heinz-Ulr

Sure, he looks a bit like a Ken doll, but the clothing and pocket watch are great!  A page from the Winter 1979 Brooks Brothers catalog. T he other day, I stumbled across a New York Times article on the signals sent by our attir e.  The interesting thing is that the article is now just aver 40 years old, first appearing in the August 26, 1979 edition of the paper.  Nevertheless, the author Nancy Beach makes a number of points that remain salient in 2019 given the general lack of attention to external grooming now so prevalent virtually anywhere you might look.  She provides the best reasons behind why so many people venture out of the house looking anything but pulled together in our slovenly age.  Make up your own mind, but I think Beach really nails it. -- Heinz-Ulrich

Not my photograph, but it illustrates pretty well my 'uniform,' if you will, especially in the warmer September and April weather during the academic year although I also rely on the occasional Madras necktie, linen, or seersucker suits.  What?  After September 1st?  I know, I know.  A gauche rube.  If the picture is yours, please let me know, sans the fusilade of obscenity now so typical, so I can provide attribution or remove it. R ecently, there was a thread over on the Saltwater New England blog discussing whether, or not social media and the internet has had any influence on how people shop for attire and/or dress themselves.   Speaking just for myself, I don't know that social media has had any influence on how I dress -- trad/ivy/prep call it what you will. . . much like my male family members of previous generations -- but it has made it easier to find a sartorial community of reasonably like-minded souls in our otherwise slovenly age.   I left Facebook a

Oh, the humanity! R ecently, I dropped by our local outlet of a national big box store, where our pharmacy is located, to pick up a prescription for our son.  It wasn't ready, of course, so I walked across the store to the other front corner of the premises where there is a small Starbuck's, better to kill 15 minutes or so with a coffee and scone.  Normally, I would avoid this pervasive purveyor of coffee made with beans over-roasted-to-the-point-of-tasting-burnt and opt for an independent cafe, but it was handy.   Once I'd paid for my order and sat down, I people watched for a few minutes before recoiling in horror.  Keep in mind, the parking lot is full of huge, late model SUVs, similar cars, and everyone has a new or very recent iPhone in his or her hand, so it's not like we're talking about the down and out, needy, and indigent here.  Quite the opposite actually given the extra large shopping carts overflowing with stuff.  And much of that needless if we