Vintage Suits and Olde-Tyme Ephemera

I've been getting into vintage suits this year. As you can tell from the design of this blog (and as you'd find out right away if you've read any of my fiction) is that I have a thing for all things Golden Era. If you're still wandering around in the netherworlds of "modern" society and don't know what's afoot in my generation (roughly — though there is significant overlap), then you might not realize just how many people there are that pine for (and often wax nostalgic about) that time in American history when men were Men, women were Women, and the times, though hard, bred the Greatest Generation.

Classic Style is honestly not something I ever thought I'd be interested in — until I realized what it was. More than just wanting to look nice when everyone else around you looks sloppy (sorry: comfortable), it really is, as the saying goes, a state of mind. Sure, I wear a suit and tie and a fedora most days, even though my employer doesn't specify that we dress up (business casual is the law of the land), but it's not just about drawing attention to yourself. Part nostalgia, part egomania, part self-respect, emulating the styles of the 1930's and '40s is almost addictive.

I don't have much in common with most people my age. I love old movies: noir detective, pre-Hays code, even silent. It's a glimpse into a world that is utterly foreign to me, sitting here typing on a fancy laptop, updating my website. Pining for the olden days in this age of techno-modern-charlatanry (think Fritz Lang's Metropolis) is, I fully admit, somewhat of a contradiction.

So do I pine for the days of the Great Depression, with the bread lines and rampant Socialism and sad state of affairs for foreign immigrants? No, I don't pine for that. If I had been alive during the Depression, chances are I would be dirt poor and lucky to own one suit and tie, let alone a half-dozen. But, thankfully, grasping at the styles of the Golden Era isn't about trying to look like a poor farmer who's been tractored off the ancestral homestead and has to move the whole family to California to pick peaches for $0.10 a bushel. It's about acting like you care about what you look like when you go out in public. You might not be the Arrow Collar Man but it doesn't take more than $35 to get pretty close.

At your local Goodwill, you can get a nice suit for $10-15, a couple Golden Era ties (I picked up two genuine 1930's ties at a thrift store on Saturday for $1.00 each), a pair of leather shoes ($7-8), and a crisp, white shirt from Wal-Mart ($11). Add an optional gray or brown fedora (got my Stetson on eBay for $19) and you will look better than anyone else you'll meet on the sidewalk, I guarantee you (unless you happen to run into Cary Grant or Fred Astaire, which I doubt). Modern suit styles simply cannot stack up to Golden Era styles. They don't look as good on you and the material is so thin and cheap that they won't last long at all (certainly not the 60 years of suits that regularly appear on eBay — modern suits can't last nearly that long, no matter how few times they get worn).

I promise you, if you have problems with self-esteem, just put on a suit and tie and you will feel a lot better about yourself. Go to work in a three-piece suit. Bask in the compliments on how nice you look from the people you see every day. Get people to notice you not for the nose rings or the dyed hair, but because you look like your grandfather, with the high-waisted pants and the gray fedora.

It feels great. You should try it. It's worth every cent.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that you should definitely get over to the Fedora Lounge and find out what all the fuss over Golden Era style is about. Spend a month or two perusing the "Suits" section and get an education on what's so different about suits from the Golden Era and why they're so desireable, even today — and not as costuming in period plays, but as every day attire.