Mr Biz on DougStephan.com

BOCA RATON, FLA. (March 6, 2003)--It was a modest inquiry about dress
codes or the lack thereof, but it triggered thoughtful, diverse, and
sometimes rip-roaring responses.
Business and financial stories about "Dress Down Fridays," and leisure vs.
businesswear are always popular, because of the number of journalistic
sectors which love the stories. This month's "Esquire" magazine advises us
that subdued earth tones of beige slacks, leather belts and leather
watchbands, and $100 knitted golf shirts have replaced "jeans" as "business
leisure" attire.
Fashion magazines, or the Wall Street Journal, from time to time might
chronicle the capricious consumer trends which boost The Gap or its Old Navy
line one year, but Men's Warehouse or Lord & Taylor the next. When Wolverine
or Hush Puppies replace Nikes and Reeboks for some upscale suburban high
schoolers, there are billions of bucks at stake.
The catalyst for this out-of-classification pondering was a recent
Officers Candidate School graduation ceremony at the main auditorium of the
U.S. Infantry School, Ft. Benning, Ga. While, perhaps, 80 percent of the
parents and friends attending wore their "Sunday best," the young man in
front of me was the poster child for the remaining 20 per cent.
In an email to some former United Press International colleagues, I
described his crisp, gold, satin, L.A. Lakers Kobe Bryant uniform, with
dreadlocked hair, hightop sneakers, knee socks, and plenty of gold chains.
Perhaps "plenty of gold chains" is a bit of an understatement. This young
man did not have to worry so much about being mugged as being devalued.
In a world where op-ed writers debate weather a guy in an anti-war tee
shirt should have been ejected from the food court in a shopping mall in
Albany, NY, where he bought the shirt, it seems to me that anything goes,
anywhere, anytime, when it comes to dress codes these days.
Garrison cadre in pressed Class A uniforms; presiding officers in "dress
blues" which hearken back to the days of the old U.S. Cavalry; proud parents
who treated OCS graduation with the same, or more, reverence of any high
school or college graduation--they are all insignificant. For those whose
sense of individuality or lack of social graces permits jeans, shorts, sun
dresses, flip-flops, hip-hop styles, etc, at such an occasion, it is a guys
such as myself in business suit and tie who is the aberration.
Former newsman, and successful entrepreneur Jerry McGinn very poignantly
pointed out to me, maybe with just a touch of sarcasm, that the guy in front
of me probably "WAS indeed wearing his best outfit." He also pointed out that
for that graduation attendee and his circle of friends, he was probably
dressed to the nines in his best gangsta rap basketball duds, which "probably
cost much more than" what I was wearing. I can vouch for that one. The
rasta-gangsta-hoopsta-rapper man's get-up must have cost a fortune. If not a
fortune, at least 10 times more than my Haband's mail-order pinstripe suit.
The ensuing responses and comments about the state of dress, or rather
undress, included veteran photojournalist Gary Haynes who was obviously a
serious student of the "kids" group Kriss Kross a few years back (who wore
their clothing backwards). In the age of Nike swoosh, Guess? jeans, Polo
logos, and Izod alligator shirts, he "remembers when showing your clothing
label meant you were wearing it inside out!"
The modern parental predicament was explained by current UPI managing
editor Ellen Beck, whose 10-year-old son Jonathan has capitulated to using
" restaurant manners" on special occasions when he "dresses to meet our
standards." This means nice slacks, shirt, sweater, and perhaps a pair of
shoes not linked to a major sports enterprise. As for school days and the
rest of the time, Ms Beck tells inquiring minds:
"(Jonathan)...dresses every day in a gray T-shirt, a vest and blue jeans.
I call him 'Norton of the sewer.' It drives me nuts. It's like a compulsion
for him that he has to dress this way, and i try to understand."
Many other correspondents on the issue reflected her view that appropriate
dress is one part of a more complex issue of manners, civil behavior, and
parenting. On these and other issues, Ms Beck's oft-shared advice is
" ...sometimes you just have to bring in the big guns--your mom and dad--and
let us deal with it...it's not politically correct, it's simply good
parenting, responsible parenting, unpopular parenting, call it what you like.
Our kids are as we raised them."
Lest readers assume there is a bit of age discrimination here, several
folks wrote me that senior citizens, especially those in certain retirement
environments, wear clothing at supposedly dignified events which they would
have never tolerated in their own children years ago. It's not just adult
education classes, dinner parties, community meetings, but the many funerals
I have attended here in South Florida.
The common excuse is, "well, it's hot and humid, and we want to pay our
respects, but at our age we go to so many funerals that it becomes routine
and we might as well be comfortable."
This supposedly assuages the wide eyeballs of ministers, priests,
rabbis, and mourning family members, who look out over the memorial chapel to
view men in madras shorts and slacks; pastel knit shirts, white plastic
belts, and (honest) women with leathery tanned and withered wrinkled spindly
legs, in white micro tennis togs and white terry wrist bands, mourning the
dead. I actually prodded one of these guys for an explanation, and he very
calmly responded, "Hey, we weren't going to cancel or weekly foursome for
Joe's funeral, but at least we moved our tee time from 10 a.m. to noon."
When my favorite, first, and only wife, finished her daily newspaper
reporting career, she was pressed into service on two occasions for national
political conventions, under the direction of legendary UPI Washington Bureau
Chief Grant Dilemmas. "The people who worked with Mr. Dillman told me that he
was very clear on dress requirements. It was okay to work in shirtsleeves in
the bureau, and hang your dark jacket on your chair or behind a door, but you
had better come to work every single day prepared to cover a state funeral,
with appropriate dress," she once told me.
Perhaps it's an "old school" thing, but I heard similar rationale from the
late Jim Riley, pioneer investment executive from the Milwaukee area, and
later a Palm Beach manager for Canada's largest and most prestigious
brokerage firm.
When I worked for Jim, he required women to wear tailored suits or
dresses, and men to wear business suits, white shirts, and ties. In the
subtropical heat from Memorial Day to Labor Day he allowed men in Palm Beach
to wear slacks or sports jackets, but preferred seersucker or light linen
suits and ties. He personally wore custom made shirts with French cuffs every
working day of his life, but allowed male employees the more "casual"
buttoned cuffs if they liked.
Brokers often pointed out to Jim that multi-millionaire clients walked
into the office in deck shoes and athletic tee shirts.
"That's their prerogative. They are the client. They are the customer.
They are the slob--if they want to be.
"Let's get this straight, up front, if you want to work here. You are
Wall Street, as in YOU ARE WALL STREET!
"Whether your office is Palm Beach, Singapore, Nome, or Austin, you
embody an industry which has a uniform, the same way as a fireman or a
policeman has a uniform. Your uniform is the neat, clean, crisp business suit
and briefcase. Your client enters your office and feels the same Wall Street
ambiance in the Winnipeg office or our Palm Beach office. It's image, and
it's the image I want, no, demand, no exceptions."
When I reflect on Jim Riley, Ellen Beck and the others, it's interesting
to note that the U.S. Army didn't feel the need for a security guard or MP to
politely tell someone, "Sorry, but your dress is not appropriate to the
solemnity of the occasion. You'll have to leave, go home and change, or go to
the reception area where we have some emergency clothing for such
exigencies." This would be too politically incorrect for the Army, but not
for Mr. Riley.
Billy Ferguson, former UPI newsman who teaches Oregon adult education
classes in current affairs, was literally present at the creation of some of
today's fashion trends. His old golf buddy was tapped for a small loan from
his Stanford MBA son for a crazy athletic shoe idea. The idea became the
ubiquitous world of Nike, and the fortunes that followed.
For those who like the idea of not telling a book by its cover, and
eliminating all of the silly trappings of class and culture, rest assured
that modern America tilts in your favor. "Professor" Ferguson, who fondly
calls his peers and students "old farts" decalres:
"Old men are in jogging suits despite the fact they don't jog. the women
have more decorum in their fashion, a necklace or pin and earrings to go with
casual attire, Some in jumpsuits when they don't jump."
---
Mark Scheinbaum is chief investment strategist for Kaplan & Co. Securities,
BSE, NASD, SIPC which manages more than $600 million, and he discloses that
his last white dress shirt was purchased three weeks ago at the K-Mart
liquidation/store closing sale.

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