It’s against my better judgment, but, by popular demand, I guess I’ll venture into the world of manly fashion.  Let me say at the outset that I was born without the gene for taste.  As any knowledgeable observer will tell you, you don’t need taste to dress like a man.  It’s not that taste gets in the way.  You just don’t need it.  Here’s what you do need.

First, you have to know what you like.  Have you ever seen a photograph of a bull dog wearing a tutu?  It’s hard to imagine a more disgusted expression.  Why people would do that to any self respecting bull dog--male or female--I’ll never know.  The point is, a bull dog can never be made to feel comfortable in a tutu, no matter how tasteful the tutu may be.  See what I mean?  if a man tries to wear something he doesn’t like, it shows.

Next, a man ought to have somebody around who is, in fact, gifted with good taste.  In my case, that’s Mary.  I think she’s given up on the idea of ever seeing me on the cover of GQ, but she’s pretty good at finding the overlap between what I like and what is not laughable or scary.

Then, a man should never let himself get stampeded into chasing fads.  There’s nothing so frivolous as a fella turning his back on a perfectly good pair of blue jeans because the style of the stitching on the back pocket got changed.  Far as I’m concerned, decoration on the back pocket of your pants is an exercise in “gilding the lily”--if you know what I mean.

A man should never lose sight of the fact that items of clothing are supposed to serve a purpose other than decoration.  Shoes, for example, are to be worn on feet. Feet are supposed to touch the ground.  There’s lots of unsanitary  stuff on the ground, like dirt, mud and--you know.  Stuff.  A man should never wear a pair of shoes that might get ruined by stuff you ought to know you’ll be stepping in. 

Here’s another flash.  A man shouldn’t wear shoes that hurt his feet.  Shoes are for walking in.  If you can’t walk in ‘em, don’t buy ‘em.  How hard is that?  Same with coats and gloves.  They’re supposed to be worn to protect from the weather. If you’re afraid the weather will hurt ‘em, don’t buy ‘em.

Now about underpants.  They’re not a manly fashion statement.  A manly man keeps his underpants to himself when possible.  There is an exception, of course for sharing with someone special.

I have a long list of items that, in my opinion, should be found in every manly man’s wardrobe.  At least one pair of Levis old enough to have been through some tough times; old enough to be able to tell a few stories if they could talk.  A man ought to have a well worn leather jacket; one that would be at home keeping the wind out on a motorcycle ride through the Yellowstone in early May.  He ought to have a pair of cowboy boots, preferably iguana.  They make the above mentioned Levis look sharp and, when they’re shined up nice, they’re dressy enough to wear with a suit.  I could go on, but I’m running out of space.

This week marks a number of events which are, in my opinion questionable from the standpoint of manly fashion.  On June 6, 1972, David Bowie released his Ziggy Stardust album.  This concept album about a sexually ambiguous alien led to a rash of young men wearing lip stick and experimenting with women’s clothes.  I guess the fad caught on and is still popular on both coasts and in the entertainment industry.  June 4,  1798, Casanova, the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest lover” died.  June 7, 1778 is Beau Brummel’s birthday.  Brummel is one of the founders of a school of fashion called “dandyism.”  Then on June 7, 1958, the entertainer “Prince” was born.  Some good music, but not exactly what you’d call a man’s man.

I suppose I should close the topic by offering the greatest fashion quote of all time:  “I wish I had invented blue jeans; the most spectacular, the most practical, the most relaxed and nonchalant.  They have expression, modesty, sex appeal, simplicity--all I hope for in my clothes.” Yves Saint Laurent.  So true, so true.

I leave you with Hink’s infallible rule on men’s fashion.  The more closely one resembles a peacock, the further one has strayed from the path of manly attire. 

I’m Hink and I’ll see ya.

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