Beware of What You Wear
Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.
– Mark Twain
To the world, I am two different people. I am an ordinary guy who wears jeans, a common shirt, and comfortable athletic shoes. Under this guise, I get the rote, conventional respect of a blue-collar working man. When I am wearing a suit and tie, I am treated with a most extraordinary respect and made to feel catered to.
I am referring to strangers, waiters, service people, and professionals of every ilk. My friends accept me in whatever garb that happens to be hanging on me at the moment - nudity, thongs, and spandex excluded in most cases. Consider, whether we like it or not, strangers who pass through our lives judge us based on what we happen to be wearing at any given time. Curious soul that I am, I wonder why we are so shallow.
A little research (very little) confirmed what I already knew about dress. There is a lot of rationalization in pop-psychology and self-help books, that prejudging is the natural human reaction to another persons clothes. Bullshit. It is a learned habit, and banal, superficial thinking. As with everything in life, certain exceptions are in order.
Obviously, if you are on a job interview, and the company has a dress code, don’t be stupid. If you disagree with the dress code, don’t go there.
I love those signs in certain restaurant windows, or conspicuously placed on the door as you walk in. “No shirt, no shoes, no service.” I always have the urge to scribble graffiti under it, “No shit!”
In a discussion such as this, very young people looking for identity must be excluded. This is about adults who wear either common comfortable clothing, as opposed to Sunday-Go-To-Meeting’ clothes. Adolescents may wear clothing that is bizarre to adults. I did.
Another view of this is strangers who look menacing. I admit, I prejudge biker types, those who lurk in the shadows, Republicans, or anyone who appears as if they might do me harm. This is called common sense. And this is not the issue.
A few years ago, I happened to be working in a job that required me to wear a suit and tie. One day, while standing in line at a fast-food joint, a man approached me, and started a conversation. As it was, he was a salesman, and wanted to know what sort of work I did.
“I work in commercial real estate” I told him.
“Well,” he said. “Anyone dressed like you are, I assume must be important.” From there the conversation disintegrated. I just smiled, and let him think I owned the company. Even that was more than he deserved.
Over the years, because of my own experience with clothes, I have made it my habit not to judge anyone by the clothes they wear. How often I have met the most interesting people wearing jeans and a sweat shirt. At least give someone a chance to open their mouth before classing them as an untouchable.
Meanwhile, I enjoy the extra attention I get at restaurants and clubs, or most anywhere in public when I wear a suit. Sometimes. I have mixed emotions, from pathos for the little waitress in some choke-and-puke simply trying to get by, hoping for a good tip, to clowning with the concierge at the Ritz who pretends he doesn’t know where the nearest Red Lobster is. And yes, I once had that happen, but I was wearing shorts and sandals. I’m pretty sure he thought I was a just another bum from the street.
