This morning I was doing my daily check of Street Carnage, when I read Gavin’s article about a trip to an American drugstore. At the bottom of his quick diatribe of the utterly pathetic state of the American drugstore, was a link to another rant he posted on a different site called, “The Death of Decorum.”
Here’s an excerpt.
When punk hit London in the late 1970s, it was impossible to buy bondage pants or hair dye or even a leather motorcycle jacket. Punk back then was about using whatever was available to be ridiculous, even if that meant walking down the street in your pajamas. It made their parents furious and that’s all that mattered.
As a parent who grew up punk, I had mixed emotions when I first saw a Puerto Rican high school student walk into a bodega with her pajamas on. It made me mad, but not because she was fighting the system. It made me mad because she was being so fucking lazy.
The whole thing is hilarious and totally true. I’m no pinnacle of fashion, but I won’t leave the house in my pajamas. I don’t even own jeans. Over the last few years, I’ve been retiring my t-shirts and shifting toward shirts with actual buttons. Crazy, I know. I’ve even thought about incorporating dressing better into next year’s theme. I know that, for me, if I don’t get up and get dressed, I can’t do anything, especially if it’s working at home. That process of putting on real clothes, i.e., not pajamas or sweats or a bathrobe, is a subconscious cue that it’s time to get to it, whatever it is. Conversely, the first thing I do when I get home from work is to take off my shoes and shirt, a sign that I’m done god damn working for the time being. But, if I am going to work again later that night, write or whatever, I put clothes back on. Weird. I know.
I’m not saying a man needs to wear a tie every day of his life, but going around in your jammies is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine going outside in pajamas. I feel foolish enough going outside in exercise clothes.
For example, here’s me on Thanksgiving.
Granted, it was a holiday, but I would have never been able to pull of Gentleman Butcher if I hadn’t worn a tie.
Here’s me recently surrounded by my womens.
And then there’s People of Walmart where we can see fine examples of how people dress when they leave the house.
How about this fellow?
Of this one?
Or this one?
Or this…well, you get the idea.
Now, here’s a bunch of guys at a baseball game in the past.
Look at all those collared shirts! Look at the ties! The coats! Now, let’s look at a modern crowd.
No class. Look how they’re reacting to the poor man with the baseball bat growing out of his chin. He just wants to enjoy a baseball game and they’re reacting with fear. For shame.
Next time I go to a baseball game, I’m going to wear a suit, just to reconnect with my older timey ancestors and to show the world that I think their eyeballs are worth about 10 extra minutes of my time. World, you are worth it. Joe, you’re worth it too. Get dressed, America.