Like most scrollers of the social media and the Internet at large, I come across quality ads (among others) on a daily basis. Ad engines know well about my quest for seeking befitting symbolisms in clothes, decals, coffee mugs and other daily means of self-expression that add life to my lifestyle. Those ads feel like click bait without the bait. Vibes that one wouldn’t mind exploring to associate with.
(IMDb Link)
The quality ad: Iconic short created as a commercial for H&M (technically this wasn’t advertised to me but I discovered it a while ago, it conveys my point nonetheless)
Among these, clothes offer prime visual real estate to exude one’s own personal mood. Lounge wear, golf shirts, boat shoes, straw hats and all such intellectually tingling tags have led me to scour entirety of brands, both online and offline. In that, I have looked for versatility of wearing them on diverse occasions and the symbolism that is congenial enough so that I feel authentic in it. It is reasonable to not expect exact visual alignment with my own imagination unless I am designing the product myself, which I am not. Consequently, this approach has left me with incoherent pieces of individually aesthetic wearables be it watch straps, sneakers or top and bottom wears that look good on their own but not so much as a whole.
Upon further retrospection I can admit that my choices have been based on visual (and intellectual) appeal with a palpable void that comes with careless and freestyle manner of styling. Of course I could snag an entire head-to-toe outfit put together by a connoisseur or a designer with taste but that would not express my authentic self. To “fix” this, then, it becomes imperative that I become a connoisseur myself.
During this particular pursuit is when I dabbled in (kudos to Grok) Alan Flusser’s book Dressing the Man – Mastering the Art of Permanent Fashion. Merely the first few pages in the book, Flusser instilled in me the understanding of “taste” which was, until that moment, largely unrealized. The cake walk, however, ended soon as Flusser proceeded to discuss substantial matters of style, fashion and clothing. The lingo was derived from Y2K’s fashion and niche sartorial culture. Idioms, sayings and, at times, even individual words made sense only in the passing as if English was my third language.
General business conditions did the work of the thresher by eliminating the chaff, or those followers of fashion, leaving the kernels, those men of influential positions in finance and society, to do the leading. The new cafe society’s dressing habits, watering holes, and social activities monopolised the attentions of the fashion press. Their intact fortunes and inbred sense of security emboldened these men to improvise and break the fashion rules.
That being said, Alan Flusser is (as Grok and the book’s Praise page clued me in) a legendary sartorialist and the book, the bible of fashion, so any critique on his literary articulation is perhaps irrelevant. Ironically though, Flusser himself insists that what he shares in the book must be understood by laymen and not only by the arbiters of fashion because (he insists) permanent fashion is about personal expression and therefore is best done… personally.
A master sharing his craft does not turn less appealing merely due to challenging vernacular, it just called for a closer read. By the virtue of modern day AIs, I in fact learned disproportionately more than if it had been an easy read. The visual and contextual resources that I came across during this deep dive into culture that was guided by Flusser and aided by the Internet, complemented the book so well that it could add to the essence for anyone who explores Dressing the Man.
And so, I have written this prelude (or perhaps a reflection?) to simply share where I am coming from for anyone (anyone uninitiated into Flusser’s standards) who reads my contextual supplements which are to follow. I do hope these insights fulfil you, the reader, just as they fulfilled my appetite for deeply understanding the culture.