
Several years ago, Norm received a present of a battery-operated, rotating tie rack from his daughters.
Norm was delighted with the gift; as we all know (especially if we read my last post) men regard tools as essential to the achievement of an end. In this case, the end achieved was the organizing of the approximately 150 ties he owns (I may be exaggerating, but not by much.)
Before the tie rack entered his life, keeping the ties in order was somewhat problematical; his collection had long ago outgrown the wooden rack on the wall of his closet. That was sufficient to hold, perhaps, his prized Christmas tie collection, including the one with the cartoon Santa climbing out of the chimney.
The rotating rack worked beautifully, circling at the touch of a button to display solids, regimental stripes, checks, paisleys, and the occasional knitted tie. Norm used it every day.
Recently, however, the rack has taken to jumping off of its housing, spilling a profusion of colorful ties onto the floor of the closet and causing Norm much consternation. Several times lately he has emerged from his closet, fists full of ties, with a look of grim determination. This morning he sat down at the kitchen table, and resourceful man that he is, figured out a way to keep the carousel of ties spinning round.
All of which has led me to wonder why men wear ties in the first place. A piece of cloth, tied around the neck of a shirt? How did that come about?
It seems that adorning the neck with a piece of cloth goes all the way back to ancient Egypt, as a means of conveying status. Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang had himself buried with a life-sized terracotta army for protection after death; each intricately detailed clay soldier is depicted with a scarf around its neck, perhaps as a sign of honor. Ancient Roman statuary also depicted men with adornment resembling the modern necktie; orators covered their throats for protection, but soldiers generally did not (the poet Horace thought neck coverings effeminate, according to some sources.)
During the Thirty Years War, around 1660, Croatian mercenaries came to France, sporting colorful kerchiefs around their necks, which intrigued the Sun King, Louis XIV. He introduced the fashion of neckwear to the French court, which took the form of lace or embroidered silk. Some experts believe that the word "cravat" is a corruption of Croat. Of course, once the fashionistas of the court adopted a style, inevitably it spread to the poor as well, who wore cravats of a humbler cotton.
When Charles II returned to England in 1660 to begin the Restoration, he and the nobility who flocked after him brought the cravat to the British Isles. During the next two hundred years, fabric was wrapped around the neck in various ways; in America in the 1800s, the bandanna became a casual alternative to the fussy silks and laces of the past, although dandies such as Beau Brummel (who designed the forerunner of the modern man's suit) still felt that a properly tied cravat was crucial to one's sartorial elegance.
Norm was delighted with the gift; as we all know (especially if we read my last post) men regard tools as essential to the achievement of an end. In this case, the end achieved was the organizing of the approximately 150 ties he owns (I may be exaggerating, but not by much.)
Before the tie rack entered his life, keeping the ties in order was somewhat problematical; his collection had long ago outgrown the wooden rack on the wall of his closet. That was sufficient to hold, perhaps, his prized Christmas tie collection, including the one with the cartoon Santa climbing out of the chimney.
The rotating rack worked beautifully, circling at the touch of a button to display solids, regimental stripes, checks, paisleys, and the occasional knitted tie. Norm used it every day.
Recently, however, the rack has taken to jumping off of its housing, spilling a profusion of colorful ties onto the floor of the closet and causing Norm much consternation. Several times lately he has emerged from his closet, fists full of ties, with a look of grim determination. This morning he sat down at the kitchen table, and resourceful man that he is, figured out a way to keep the carousel of ties spinning round.
All of which has led me to wonder why men wear ties in the first place. A piece of cloth, tied around the neck of a shirt? How did that come about?
It seems that adorning the neck with a piece of cloth goes all the way back to ancient Egypt, as a means of conveying status. Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang had himself buried with a life-sized terracotta army for protection after death; each intricately detailed clay soldier is depicted with a scarf around its neck, perhaps as a sign of honor. Ancient Roman statuary also depicted men with adornment resembling the modern necktie; orators covered their throats for protection, but soldiers generally did not (the poet Horace thought neck coverings effeminate, according to some sources.)
During the Thirty Years War, around 1660, Croatian mercenaries came to France, sporting colorful kerchiefs around their necks, which intrigued the Sun King, Louis XIV. He introduced the fashion of neckwear to the French court, which took the form of lace or embroidered silk. Some experts believe that the word "cravat" is a corruption of Croat. Of course, once the fashionistas of the court adopted a style, inevitably it spread to the poor as well, who wore cravats of a humbler cotton.
When Charles II returned to England in 1660 to begin the Restoration, he and the nobility who flocked after him brought the cravat to the British Isles. During the next two hundred years, fabric was wrapped around the neck in various ways; in America in the 1800s, the bandanna became a casual alternative to the fussy silks and laces of the past, although dandies such as Beau Brummel (who designed the forerunner of the modern man's suit) still felt that a properly tied cravat was crucial to one's sartorial elegance.
Men's attire became standardized during the Industrial Revolution, when the exigencies of the workplace demanded a less fussy style, and the long thin tie of today started to appear courtesy of Oxford University oarsmen, who removed the striped bands from their straw boaters and tied them around their necks. This practice led to the creation of the striped "school" tie.
Bow ties originated from a French ready-to-wear cravat called a "jabot". The tuxedo was introduced as formal wear, along with its black bow tie, by Pierre Lorillard in Tuxedo Park, New York, an uppercrust enclave developed in 1885.
The British army began using striped ties to indicate the regiment to which a soldier belonged. World War I exposed America and the rest of the world to the long, narrow regimental stripe tie. The man's necktie (and its cousin the bow tie) became established parts of American fashion.
The 20th century saw periodic changes in width and length, but the tie remained a standard part of dressy male plumage until the last two decades started to loosen things up, and casual attitudes to dress seeped into workplaces.
The 20th century saw periodic changes in width and length, but the tie remained a standard part of dressy male plumage until the last two decades started to loosen things up, and casual attitudes to dress seeped into workplaces.
Recently, in New York City, a necktie tradition fell when the 79-year-old "21 Club" stopped requiring male diners to wear ties.
One wonders if the tie has become the vestigial tail of menswear, and is doomed by the process of evolutionary elimination. Somehow it is hard to imagine millennials wanting to master the Windsor Knot.
Until it completely disappears, however, the necktie still makes a good Father's Day present.
2 comments:
The tie may remain, as it serves to heighten sexual dimorphism. Even during times when men had by far the flashier couture (big hair, big shoes, big lace), women had cleavage. It stands in sharp contrast to bunches of cloth at the neck. So: if you want to look manly, keep the stuff at the throat. (see "Sex and Suits".)
Interesting.
I like the look of a tie, myself. A white shirt, jewel-colored tie in red or blue and dark suit has a great iconic, stylized appeal.
Maybe "Mad Men" will bring this look back into vogue.
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