Are Trump and British MPs hastening the death of the tie? | Fashion

Are Trump and British MPs hastening the death of the tie? | Fashion

It was president John F Kennedy who took the credit and the blame for the demise of the hat, after he declined to wear a topper to his inauguration in 1960. Before long, the only American men who wore headgear to work were beat cops and construction workers.

Now, the Speaker of the House of Commons, John Bercow, has threatened the primacy of the necktie in British public life, telling MPs they can speak in the chamber without one â€" and thus making the parliamentary dress code more progressive than that of several nearby gentlemen’s clubs.

Liberal Democrat MP Tom Brake asking a question in the House of Commons while not wearing a tie. Photograph: AFP/Getty

So will ties soon go the way of top hats? On Tuesday, transport minister John Hayes told the Commons he would ignore interventions from any “sartorially challenged” male MP not sporting a tie. Hayes, a member of the traditionalist Tory Cornerstone group, even brought a spare for others to borrow. But he was challenged by tieless Lib Dem Tom Brake, who urged him to “bow to the inevitable and accept the tyranny of the tie has been terminated”.

David Cameron was the first frontline British politician to ditch the tie on a regular basis (outside parliament, that is) as he rose to the leadership of the Conservative party a dozen years ago with his sleeves rolled up and his top button boldly undone.

He encouraged other Tory frontbenchers to do the same, presumably hoping voters would see a group of relaxed, regular guys, instead of the ties that might mark them out as Old Etonians or members of the Garrick Club. Yet in his brief pomp, between the 2015 election and the Brexit referendum, Cameron reverted to type, telling Jeremy Corbyn from the dispatch box that he ought to “put on a proper suit” and “do up [his] tie”. After observing election battles on both sides of the Atlantic, distinguished historian Sir David Cannadine noted in 2012 that British and American politicians tended to “campaign wearing an open neck shirt, but govern wearing a tie”.

Alex Bilmes, the editor of Esquire, has little patience for the suit-with-no-tie look, which he describes as a crutch for “any square, middle-aged executive type who wants to signal that they’re not just a stuffed shirt. Who are you kidding, grandad? There’s something fake and insincere about removing the tie to suggest everything’s relaxed and laid back.”

Stripping the tie from traditional, formal, men’s business attire, says Bilmes, “takes away almost the only signal of individuality. You’ve removed all pattern, colour and wit from the look. The tie is the focal point of the ensemble. It’s like the Rolling Stones without Mick standing in the middle. Sometimes I’ll watch Newsnight and the presenter and all his guests â€" academics, newspaper editors, senior MPs â€" they’re all wearing blue, single-breasted suits with a white shirt open at the collar. There’s no way to tell them apart. It looks like Match of the Day, frankly. It shows an aesthetic ignorance and a lack of style.”

The history of the necktie can be traced at least as far back as the 17th century, when fashionable Parisians took a fancy to the knotted neckerchiefs worn by the Croatian mercenaries who fought for the French during the thirty years’ war. They were adopted by the French and turned into what we would think of today as a cravat. The necktie as we know it became popular in the early 20th century, and particularly after the first world war, when, for many returning soldiers, a regimental tie replaced the bow tie as day-to-day formalwear.

In the US in the 1920s, Brooks Brothers became the go-to men’s outfitter for the professional classes. The firm modelled its ties for Wall Street workers and other businessmen on British club and regimental ties, but designed them with diagonal stripes that move down from left to right, the opposite of the conventional British diagonal, and a distinction that still sets British and US ties apart today.

John Hayes and his spare tie. Photograph: PA

Cameron, a former Carlton Television PR man, took his style cues from the creative industries, the tech business and even the hedge-fund world, where many powerful men go tieless to meetings. But the no-tie look may be simply a phase in the evolutionary history of the necktie, which has already survived bolo, kipper and piano varieties.

According to Jack Cassidy, a buyer of men’s designer and formalwear at Selfridges, the market for ties is not shrinking but diversifying, with ties breaking out of their traditional home in the formalwear section.

The tie is integral to any formal outfit, says Cassidy, “but in recent seasons we have also seen this symbol of the corporate world make its way on to the fashion stage, with the likes of Martine Rose and Balenciaga making it a key focus point of their AW17 collections. This season at Selfridges, the tie will take a sabbatical alongside our most avant-garde labels [in the designer-wear space], with options from Thom Browne, Dries Van Noten and Balenciaga.”

It will be interesting to witness the long-term effect of the current US president on the life of the tie. Far from eschewing the silk noose, Donald Trump wears a tie everywhere he goes â€" the golf course notwithstanding â€" and at such preposterous length that it has been described as both a guide to the location of his penis, and as an attempt to compensate for its size.

Trump’s ties and his knee-length suit jackets are an extreme incarnation of the style preferred by a traditional American executive class. “The American boardroom is not where one goes for sartorial tips,” Bilmes admits. “And Trump is not a fantastic advert for tie wearers.”

If the tie finally goes out of fashion for good, history may hold President Trump responsible. On the other hand, he has done more than most presidents to help bring back the hat.

قالب وردپرس

Tweet

Subscribe to receive free email updates: