In the 1964 film, Robin and the Seven Hoods, Frank Sinatra charismatically sings about how “You’ve either got or you haven’t got style”. It’s a catchy line from a mostly forgotten musical, but it reveals a shockingly subtle change that has occurred in the last sixty years.
The concept of style being something tangible, well-defined, and concrete has largely slipped from the public conscience. Style has become formless and subjective. This keeps in step with a larger cultural movement, which sacrifices real beauty on the altar of its beholder. The current definition of beauty has no boundaries. It flails its arms as it spirals madly down, carelessly grabbing any piece of media it can get its hands on, regardless of whether it truly holds any value.
Unfortunately, there is no place in which the destruction of beauty seems to be more apparent than in our manner of style.
When looking at photos from the first half of the twentieth century, we are faced with a radically different vision of America. The women are often in dresses, their hair might be done up in neat little curls, they are adorned with bangles, baubles, and beads. For their part, the men are in well-tailored, sensible shirts and slacks, and often, their suit jacket stays on throughout the day. Even the ruddy-cheeked and rambunctious young children have a standard of appearance that is downright smart. There was a degree of dignity very apparent in previous generations’ clothing. They took care of their outward appearances as a symbol of respect to their communities.
Contrast this with the clothing of today, and you can see the descent into societal despair.
Sweatpants, hoodies, athleisure, and even pajamas (No, not the silk-monogrammed sets from the 1930s) are more common than a suit and tie. Heels, jewelry, and makeup are saved for special occasions. It is much easier to throw on a pair of leggings and a big t-shirt rather than iron out a crisp blouse, and the result of this is unfortunately apparent.
It has become helplessly rare to see people dressed nicely while in public unless they are attending some kind of special event. In a more sensible society, we would be shocked to see people buying groceries in a holey shirt and beat up sneakers. However, if you saw a woman at the supermarket picking out milk and eggs in a dress, she would probably garner a high amount of side eye glances and murmurs of ‘strange’.
This is the cost of allowing beauty to decay. Gradually, we have expanded its meaning so that it can contain the ugly as easily as the spectacular. The way we present ourselves matters.
You can judge a book by its cover- I have never once picked up a cookbook and looked inside to find a comic book. The way people dress communicates two messages: how they see themselves and how they see society.
In the 1960s, when Frank Sinatra stepped onstage in a handsome and timeless black suit, he was making a statement. First, he was giving away information about himself. His suit was a way for him to show that he saw value in himself and in his vocal talent, and he wanted to portray that by investing in his clothes. Second, he was giving a message to his audience, showing them that he respected them enough to spend time and money in cultivating a pristine image of himself which he could give to those he shared a space with. It was a way to revere himself (“Your body is a temple, saith the Lord”) and those around him.
Being in the public square brings with it the duty of civility. In a polite society, people hold themselves and others to a standard of behavior. Thankfully, that standard can be met simply through regard for style. Wearing clothes that have a bit of splendor and class sends a clear message that the wearer respects themselves and their culture. There is much room for personal expression without being lewd or lazy. The confines of quality allow for creativity and taste to take root.
In the 1970s, the rise of hippie culture became widely apparent through a shift in clothing. Ripped jeans and graphic t-shirts became a casual affair, and the gowns and grandeur of decades past slipped into memory. Elegance was traded for exuberance, as younger generations sought to convey their distaste for societal expectations and their interest in counter culture. They started to write a new book, one that was free-flowing and untethered to what had come before them, and they did so by ditching the gracefulness of old. Their dissatisfaction with their heritage could be found in a newfound negligence. Ever since, this decay has become increasingly pronounced, as people detach themselves from beauty and instead become comfortable in their unhappiness.
Style is a minute issue amidst our vast cultural collapse. Still, it is a litmus test for the health of our public well-being. The malaise that comes with slovenliness is apparent when juxtaposed with the refinement of excellence. Taking the time to invest in personal appearance helps form a prosperous sensibility. When we step outside, we exude an image, and the best image is one that shows ourselves and our civilization that beauty is real and worth expressing.
Dust off your nicest pair of shoes and pull out the iron, because like Sinatra sang, “If you’ve got style, you stand out a mile”.
