67
Although the term “informal” was coined to indicate that gentlemen were expected to show up wearing black tie, rather than “formal” clothing (white-tie bib and tucker), an “informal” dress code now usually demands a sports coat and tie or, at the very stuffiest, a business suit. Nevertheless, many a gentleman lives in fear of the moment when a black-tie invitation—or, God help him, a white-tie invitation— will arrive in the mail. The prospect of that moment, however, should actually fill him with calm, since a request for black tie leaves little margin for error. Even in today’s ever-evolving, constantly adapting society, the formula for formal wear remains virtually unchanged. The suit remains black, as do the tie and shoes that go with it. If a gentleman expects formal evenings to be even an occasional part of his life, he may choose to purchase his own suit. Meanwhile, rental remains a perfectly acceptable option, whether the gentleman is headed to the highest of society weddings or the dressiest ball following a presidential inauguration.
68
A gentleman realizes that purchasing his
own formal wear is a sizable investment—
and a longtime commitment. Thus, when
considering this momentous step, he
shops in a respected men’s store.
When a gentleman purchases his own
formal wear, he buys a suit that fits him
comfortably or even loosely (within
reason). He knows that dress-up parties
involve rich food and ample drink. He also
knows that they occur at all times of the
year, during none of which he wishes to
feel too large for his trousers.
When his dinner clothes are fitted, a
gentleman makes sure that ample fabric
remains in the seams, in anticipation of
the potential expansion of his waistline.
A gentleman knows that a formal shirt
does not have a button-down collar.
69
If a gentleman elects to wear a wing
collar, he wears his collar points
behind his bow tie.
When shopping for dinner clothes, a
gentleman steers away from “blended”
fabrics. He searches, instead, for light
worsted wool, which is cooler in the
summer and which sheds wrinkles more
easily than other “easy-care” fabrics.
When a gentleman wears a cummerbund,
he makes sure the pleats are turned
upward, forming little pockets in which he
may stash a theater ticket or a calling card—
his own or, perhaps, someone else’s.
When a gentleman wears a formal vest—or
any vest, for that matter—he leaves at least
one bottom button unbuttoned. If a second
unbuttoned button makes him feel more
comfortable (and if he is tall enough to pull
it off), he indulges himself in that way too.
70
If a gentleman expects to be invited to
black-tie occasions on a regular basis,
he goes ahead and buys his own suit
and accessories. After three or four
wearings, that initial investment can
easily justify itself, given the cost—and
quality—of rented formal clothes.
A gentleman will do well to remember
that in England (where the concept
of black suits for gentleman, as
evening wear, was born), a “vest” is an
undergarment (known as a “tank top”
in the U.S.). The sleeveless, buttoned-up
garment worn between coat and
shirtfront is more properly known as
a “waistcoat” (pronounced “weskit,” if
a gentleman affects a British accent,
although a gentleman never affects a
British accent).
71
A gentleman may wish to add a dash of
color to a summertime formal party by
wearing a colorful dinner jacket. When
doing so, however, he realizes that he also
runs the risk of looking like a member
of a band conducted in 1947 by Xavier
Cugat. Or worse yet, a band conducted in
1953 by Desi Arnaz.
If a gentleman feels the urge to wear a
colorful cummerbund, tie, or pocket
square, he does not buy them as a set.
A gentleman’s pocket square, tie, and
cummerbund were never intended to share
the same gene pool.
If a gentleman is the groom at a wedding,
his dinner clothes or evening clothes differ
in no way from those of the other members
of the wedding party—or even from those
worn by the wedding guests. He may wear
a boutonniere, taken from the bride’s
bouquet, but otherwise he sticks to the
standard uniform.
72
A gentleman knows that, when mixing
blue jeans with a dinner jacket, he runs
the risk of suggesting that only half his
suit was returned from the dry cleaners.
A gentleman makes sure that his
dinner clothes are always clean and
unwrinkled, lest he require them at a
moment’s notice.
Unless he is an attendant at a nighttime
wedding party, invited to a formal ball,
or tapped to receive a Nobel Prize, it is
highly likely that a gentleman will never
be faced with the necessity of being
fitted for a tailcoat.
If a gentleman receives an invitation
marked “Black Tie Optional,” he knows
that black tie is what his host or hostess
really wants him to wear—but the choice
to do so is his own.
73
A gentleman knows that white dinner
jackets were invented to be worn only
in tropical climates—and on movie sets.
There is seldom any good excuse for
wearing such a jacket north of the South
Carolina state line.
There is no good excuse for wearing a
white dinner jacket, anywhere, between
Labor Day and Memorial Day.
If, at a summertime black-tie dinner,
the announcement is made that
“gentlemen may remove their jackets,”
an experienced gentleman considers
his options: He may remove his jacket
and catch a bit of the breeze. Or he
may decline the offer, knowing that
underneath his jacket, a sweat-soaked
shirt now clings to his torso. Being a
gentleman, he may choose not to share
that reality with his fellow dinner guests.