Of Neckties and Constancy

The international website for Andrew's Ties, who, incidentally, make a decent necktie for the price, has an aphorism I think many readers of this blog would appreciate:

Tell any man you like his tie and you will see his personality open like a flower.

The important point here, at least for me, is not that such a compliment bolsters a man's confidence in how he looks. Rather, the point is this: Wearing a tie in this day and age, especially when it's voluntary, is fairly uncommon. If a man does it, he shows that he cares about what he puts on, as opposed to sliding into whatever is merely inexpensive, sufficiently modest, and not unduly confining. If a man feels greater attention in this matter is also valuable to others, it will continue to be valuable to him.

Of course, all this is true for the rest of his clothes as well, but the tie, at least as I see it, is a symbol. When I was growing up, no matter what kind of upheaval visited my dad's life, he always got up, put on a tie, and went to work. If he was unemployed, he did the same thing to go out and look for jobs. Because of this, the weekend t-shirt was special. He had accepted his responsibility every day and the end of the week meant there wasn't any left. He was free to relax and his attire expressed that. When I put on a tie, I feel myself joining my dad and a chorus of other men who have put aside their laziness or fear about the chaos life often brings and accepted the task before them. When someone appreciates that I'm wearing a tie, they're appreciating this decision.

Philosophers' Clothes: Nietzsche

Here is the first in a series of posts I'll be doing on philosophers and clothing, devoted either to a story about a given philosopher's sartorial tendencies or to a comment one of them made about attire or fashion. Here then is a biographical vignette from Nietzsche: The Man and His Philosophy, by the well-known Nietzsche biographer and scholar, R.J. Hollingdale. It recounts the philosopher's preparation as he anticipates meeting Wagner for the first time (on November 8th, 1868):

Thinking there would be a large gathering, Nietzsche visited his tailor, who, as it happened, had promised to have an evening suit for him that very day. The suit was not quite ready, and he was promised it in three-quarters of an hour; when he went back, it was still not ready, and it was at last presented to him at half past six. With it came a bill, which the tailor's assistant demanded should be met before he would part with the suit. Nietzsche hadn't enough money on him - or in his possession very likely - and tried to put the suit on (he had taken his own off to try the new one on for size); a struggle ensued in which the tailor proved the victor; he disappeared, taking the suit with him, and Nietzsche stormed out into the pouring rain, fearful that by now he would be late for his appointment and hoping his old clothes would do. As it turned out, there was no large gathering: just the Brockhaus family, Nietzsche and Windisch, and Wagner. [pg. 40]

Hollingdale goes on to say that the evening went very well. Wagner played the piano and he and Nietzsche had a long discussion about Schopenhauer. Then, at the end of the visit, Wagner invited him back for more music and philosophy. The moral of the story (for our purposes, anyway): Take your costume seriously, but not too seriously.