Men’s Fashion Tip For December

For this month’s fashion tip I’m going to begin what may be an ongoing series on choosing a suit. There are a lot of factors that go into choosing a suit but, judging by the suits I see on men around town, not many people pay attention to them. Obviously that can have negative repercussions; a sharp looking suit will connote success and confidence, but a bad suit can be a significant handicap.

For this first suit-oriented tip I’m going to focus on venting. When buying a suit it’s important to look at the jacket and determine how many slits it has in the back along the bottom. These slits are called vents and there are basically three main types of venting: no vents, single vents, and double vents. (This is also true of most sport coats and other jackets as well).

The most flattering of these styles is double-venting. A double-vented jacket will have two slits, just behind each hip. This style looks more European and typically has the greatest slimming effect on the body. It makes the wearer look more athletic and its lines suggest the ideal masculine shape. This kind of suit also suggests a classier look; because it requires more effort to make (more cutting, sewing, etc.) it looks more expensive (and sometimes, but not always, costs more too). All of these factors combine to give double-vented suits a sleek, flattering, modern aesthetic.

Though I prefer double vents, I more commonly see single-vented suits. These suits will have a single slit in the center of the back and the style is characteristic of looser, more billowy American suits (as opposed to European styles). When I recently asked (the incredibly talented tailor) Lady Danburry why this kind of suit is so common she speculated that it is because they are easier, cheaper, and faster to make, especially by machines. Not surprisingly for suits that have emerged under those conditions, these suits are less flattering. Of course, the single vent can be used to make the suit slimmer and more tailored, but depending on body shape it usually won’t compete double vents. (This style is particularly unflattering when paired with the great fashion travesty of the century: pleated pants).

Finally, suits with no vents are often the least tailored. They’re basically cylinders cut out of fabric and are less flattering. In fairness, some would say they look more formal than single-vented suits (more like tuxedos, for example). They can evoke a particular kind of retro vibe as well; Cary Grant wears one in North by Northwest for example. Still, double and single-vented suits can look equally retro and formal under the right circumstances and have the advantage of actually being attractive too.

Ultimately, then, a double-vented suit is going to be the most stylish choice. Though people in professional and social settings probably won’t consciously note how many vents your suit has, they will be impressed by a man that looks especially sharp and well kept. It should also go without saying that a better looking suit leads to greater confidence, which is in turn a key ingredient for success. So the next time you go decide to revamp your wardrobe remember: venting matters and there is no fashion neutrality.

Kill Christmas!

Ever since the holiday season began I’ve been looking forward to writing a blog about why Christmas is inferior to other holidays. However, I think I basically made my case in my Thanksgiving post (and to a lesser extent my Halloween post), so here I’m going to explain why the best way to celebrate Christmas would be to kill its so-called “spirit.”

The spirit of Christmas, as I understand it, is tied to the life of Jesus Christ. It involves being charitable, loving, and (most importantly) dwelling on the things that He provided for us. As a Christian/Mormon, I obviously think all that stuff is great. However, it’s no surprise that the way we celebrate Christmas so often has little to do with actual Christianity; we buy stuff, stress out about family gatherings, put up lights, decorate sugar cookies, etc. Of course, most of our modern Christmas traditions are actually pagan activities (Christmas trees, for example, which have nothing to do with Jesus despite Christians' attempts at appropriation).

However setting that issue aside, few Christmas activities actually promote reflection on Christian doctrine. In fact the holiday is really wrapped up in the consumerist, pop cultural side of the event. When I think of Christmas I don’t think of the gore-fest that was Jesus’ life, I think of Norman Rockwell paintings and wrapping paper. I think of How the Grinch Stole Christmas or Frosty The Snowman. I think of the pride I got as a teenager from vanquishing our neighbors in an unofficial Christmas light war. In other words, the things that I associate with Christmas are fun, happy, and (most importantly) secular.

For what it’s worth, I prefer it that way. As grateful as I am for them, I don’t really want to think of Jesus’ horrific experiences at Christmastime. I prefer to simply enjoy the pleasantness of spending time with friends and family and save the religious meditation for later. When I’m watching Christmas commercials or looking at lights, I feel a little of the holiday excitement that is supposed to accompany the season. When I think about someone being tortured to death on a cross, I just get kind of sad.

Given the origins of the word “Christmas,” it seems likely that at one point the holiday was actually a somber religious affair. However, for better or worse, that really isn’t what it’s all about anymore. We can shake our fists at the superficiality of the holiday, or we can accept it and enjoy all the secular movies, foods, activities, etc. If we wanted, we could even set aside a different day for contemplating the life of Jesus. We could spend our time thinking about Jesus’ entire life, from how awful it would be to give birth in a filthy stable to the awesome idea of resurrection, and then continue to have a sweet secular celebration on December 25th.

Whether we set aside a different day or not, it’s unlikely that Christmas will become less secular. Instead and as a result of our spending habits, it’ll probably continue to move away from the “Christmas spirit.” Fighting that fact will just constitute slapping a religious veneer on a technically pagan and effectively secular celebration. On the other hand, sweeping away that veneer would allow us to guiltlessly enjoy the simple pleasures of the season (like, say, the deliciousness of eggnog or the smell of evergreen), without extra preoccupation about sins and hell. Ultimately, it’d allow us to embrace the kitschy aesthetic of the season and open the door to a more meaningful religious holiday.

A More Poetic Style

Tonight I've been writing a list of new Provo businesses of 2009 for Rhombus Magazine. In my opening paragraph I had originally written "...surprisingly managed to bring new life to our struggling downtown." However, I felt like that wasn't really very interesting to read because "bring new life" was boring and clunky. After considering for a minute the image of someone using a defibrillator kept coming to mind. Thus I changed the phrase to "...surprisingly managed to defibrillate our struggling downtown." It's shorter and easier to read, and, I think, more interesting.

If I were writing a poem such realizations would be necessary and one as simple as this wouldn't warrant any particular rejoicing. However, since I was writing an article I think it is an occasion worth taking note of. The first phrase was adequate and would be sufficient. In my own writing I'll actually usually go with whatever is adequate eight or nine times out of ten simply because I have to move on. Though different writers have different skill levels, I'd bet that most professional writers work similarly simply due to time constraints (though "adequate" from great writers is obviously better than "inspiring" from mediocre writers).

This all raises some questions: does it matter? Does an audience really care if a magazine author or journalist uses more interesting diction? Do they notice? (Am I even correct in assuming that my second choice was more interesting?) I'm not sure. Most writing I read isn't remarkably well written, nor is it terrible. It does, however, seem to place a premium on content. Language, most popular writing apparently assumes, isn't something that is supposed to call attention to itself or be anything but the background for the ideas it conveys.

However, a more poetic style (which I hope I was inching closer to when I happened to think of the word "defibrillate") is more exact. I think the verb I decided to use is more violent and vivid than the bland phrase I started out with. If it really is better my conclusion is then that I hope to continue to work toward a more poetic style in my future popular writing. By extension I'd argue that writers generally should do the same.

Of course, probably no writer would argue that he or she shouldn't try to find better words to use. However, I think that my argument is also that, by extension, "adequate" is actually less adequate than it seems. Though the basic idea gets across when writers settle for the first thing that comes to mind, the complexity of a concept is lost. In other words, ideas and language are closely integrated with one another and using inexact words conveys ideas inexactly.

Ultimately I think that popular writing shouldn't strive for transparency. It should strive for poetry. Though poetry itself is all but a dead art (which, as a writer and reader of poetry, I lament), the power of language is significant. Obviously few writers have the luxury to treat everything they write like a poem. Yet I know that in my case when I simply adopt the belief that writing should be poetic my work is profoundly changed. This, coupled with reading more poetic works (such as actual poetry) could substantially improve writing in many venues. Theoretically it could also inspire readers to become more passionate about what they're consuming, which in turn could (in some small way) help to reinvigorate the struggling writing industry.

Going Home Culture

Throughout my time as a college undergrad I was puzzled and slightly intrigued by my friends who had families near by. As a Californian living in Utah, seeing my family was a two or three times a year affair. I’d go home during Thanksgiving and Christmas, and maybe during summer, but for the most part I didn’t see them much.

That, however, contrasted significantly with my friends from Utah who went home at least several times a month. In the case of my roommates I’d always notice them taking their laundry and coming home from Sunday dinner with leftovers. I have to admit that in many ways I was envious of these friends; they obviously had the opportunity to cultivate a stronger relationship with their families, and they also saved money by eating their parent’s food and using their parent’s washing machine.

Though my family lived in California for years, just as I graduated they moved to Utah and I subsequently began to experience the decidedly different culture that exists among family members living within driving distance of each other. Of course, I was recently married by this time and no longer an undergrad, but I still began to do many of the things I’d seen my friends do before. I started taking advantage of my parent’s washing machine. Laura and I started going (and continue to go) to dinner at my family’s house nearly every week. Occasionally we go hang out with them or do things for family night.

As we’ve done this I’ve been surprised at the difference between having family far away and having them nearby. Though that difference was apparent to me before when I had experienced only one of those two options, I don’t think I could fully appreciate it until my family moved to Utah.

For example, as Laura and I prepare to visit her family for Christmas she mentioned how we might not want to bring piles of dirty laundry home (though we have done this in the past and may still in the future). We also don’t think of Laura’s parent’s home as a source of delicious free food.

More seriously however, the kind of relationship that is fosters between family members is largely contingent on how often they communicate and through what medium. The actual conversations that we have with my family, for example, are affected by how much time we spend at their home. It’s also obvious to see how the various things going on in our lives (school, work, stress generally, etc.) changes the kind of relationship we have. On the other hand, a fair amount of time we spend with Laura’s family is going to inevitably be reserved for catching up and/or reasserting the familiar connection we feel.

All of this is really just to say that distance still plays a significant factor in the kind of relationships people can have. Though the Internet and other technologies continue to “shrink” the world, I don’t think they actually allow relationship to transcend or circumvent distance. I’m not arguing that one kind of relationship is better (be it long or short), but that no matter how many phone calls a person makes to their long distance family they can never have the same kind of “going home” culture as a person with family nearby and vice versa.

Sandra Bullock: Gradual Feminist or Closeted Misogynist

A few nights ago I had the dubious pleasure of watching Sandra Bullock’s The Proposal, the second of her three films this year. Along with Bullock the film stars Ryan Reynolds and is a fairly formulaic romantic comedy: a man and a woman initially dislike each other, are forced to spend time in one another’s company, finally manage to separate only to discover that they’ve fallen in love. It’s the same story over and over again. However, The Proposal throws a curve ball into the mix: Sandra Bullock plays the role of the older, more powerful professional, while himbo Reynolds is the plucky underling who falls in love as a result of his superiors coercion. In other words, The Proposal reverses the typical romantic comedy gender roles.

Or does it? Though Sandra Bullock, as a vile and reviled publishing boss, is definitely playing against her type she can’t really shake her Sandra Bullock-ishness. The role she’s been given is basically trying to be Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada, but Bullock really just comes off the same way she does in every post-Speed movie. Though this tension between her supposed evilness and her obvious charm actually makes the movie more entertaining, it also begins to undermine the legitimacy of The Proposal’s gender reversal. Much like Miss Congeniality, this latest film casts Bullock in a man’s role but is narratively concerned with removing her feminist veneer to reveal the awkward, tomboyish Bullock archetype. In that sense it’s not unlike several of Barbara Stanwyck’s films that cast the golden era starlet as a spunky working girl who nonetheless ends up in a very traditional relationship.

The process by which Bullock’s feminist veneer is removed further raises questions about the feminist slant of the film. Though the initial gender reversal is laudable (Reynolds, for example, is accused of sleeping his way to professional success much as a woman might be in a less progressive movie) the end of the film basically ends like any romantic comedy with the man proposing to the woman. (This is not a spoiler, as the inevitable end of any romantic comedy is a heterosexual coupling.) It’s trite, but in this case it’s also particularly disappointing because The Proposal had seemingly already done away with that particular convention when it had had Bullock getting down on her knees to proposal to Reynolds earlier in the film.

In any case, The Proposal begins with what could be an interesting premise but slowly unravels everything it has going for it so that by the conclusion it’s just business as usual. Hollywood often takes a lot of flack for supposedly being “liberal” and trying to push a progressive agenda. When some (overly conservative) person watched the film they probably lamented the fact that the film seems to endorse woman’s rights and gender equality. However and unfortunately for those of us who actually believe in those things, the film actually condemns them and advocates the gender disparity status quo that it might have been trying to dispel. In the end, then, The Proposal shows that men are in control and women are just schemers trying to find a husband.

Electron Deception Christmas Song

So when I started this blog I had actually intended to talk a lot about my band, Electron Deception. Over time, however, I've drifted away from that. However, I wanted to do a shameless plug here for the Christmas song we just recorded. It's our fairly liberal interpretation of "Little Drummer Boy" and you can get download it for free, here. While you're at it, feel free to check out the other bands' Christmas songs on the same website, as they are very cool to (if very different from our own).

In the coming days I hope to discuss Christmas music more generally and some of the interesting realizations that we (the band) had as we tried to actually write a Christmas song. Assuming I don't get distracted with other topics I'll post that next week.

Triceratops and Siamese Cats

Tonight I am amazed at the power of children’s movies to shape my adult ideas. More specifically, I am amazed that movies I saw when I was kid as still determining how I see the world, even when I don’t realize it.

Earlier this evening Laura and I were talking about our clothing as a kid and I mentioned that my mom made shirts for my siblings and me that had brontosauruses on them. I mentioned that at the time (and now, actually) brontosauruses seemed like pretty wimpy dinosaurs (I subsequently had my mom sew flames on mine, effectively turning it into a brontosaurus-dragon). Anyway, Laura made the point that the brontosaurus is a fairly gender-neutral dinosaur that would have fit well on either my shirt, or my sister’s.

I think Laura is right, but why? A t-rex is probably a good example of a “boy” dinosaur, but I couldn't think of why brontosaurus would be neutral (this reminds me of my post awhile ago about school mascots). Then, as I was suggesting alternatives that I would have preferred, we figured it out. I said that would have taken a triceratops over a brontosaurus, but that “I always kind of thought of triceratops as girl dinosaurs." That’s when Laura realized that all this went back to The Land Before Time.

Not coincidentally, my mom made our dinosaur shirts right around the time The Land Before Time came out. Though the reason she made them was to have all us kids match, she probably party chose the dinosaur motif because of the movie. However, if my mom was motivated by the movie to make shirts for her children, she probably couldn’t have foreseen that that movie would continue to influence her children’s perceptions about dinosaur gender for the rest of their lives. Though I know there were both boy and girl triceratops, I don’t foresee myself ever associating that dinosaur with boys. If I ever have a son I'll probably give him a doll before a triceratops toy, not because I’m opposed to boys playing with girl toys but just because it would never occur to me to give a girl dinosaur to a little boy (whereas I’d be more likely to think critically and make creative choices about more obviously gendered toys).

Similarly, I know that Siamese cats are evil. Every time I see a Siamese cat on the street I try to steer clear of it, and usually I give it a mean look. Though I spent most of my adolescence and young adult life believing that Siamese cats were just among the more temperamental of cat breeds, I eventually realized I got my ideas about them from Lady and the Tramp.

Remember that part where the two Siamese cats sing “we are Siamese if you please. We are Siamese if you don’t please.” Honestly I can’t even remember anything else about that movie (or what the cats do that makes them so evil). As I’m typing this I’m also realizing that there may be some underlying racism in that part of the story, but that’s a topic for a different day. The point is that because of that movie I will forever imagine every Siamese cat I see singing those two lines. Though I’d feel comfortable describing myself as a cat person, I’d never bring one of those kind into my house.

I suspect that everyone has had similar experiences with media they consumed as a kid. I’m also sure that there are other examples of movies influencing my current attitudes that I'm not even aware of yet. If this story has a moral I suppose it would “be careful what your kids watch.” That’s an important message, I guess, though for now I’m content to marvel at how I know this happens, but I’m relatively powerless (at this point) to do much about it.