PRESIDENTIAL AVIATORS
“Have the Bidens ruined aviators?” This question was posed to me by a friend who feels that Joe and Hunter have seized Ray-Ban’s classic sunglasses as a piece of personal branding, leaving the rest of us feeling like we’re ripping off the commander in chief and his son if we wear them.
“I used to feel young and worthy when I wore aviators—and I’ve worn them for a half-century or more,” my friend lamented. “Now I feel old … or semi-corrupt.”
I certainly see my friend’s point, especially if one is of an age where his first exposure to aviators comes from our octogenarian president or his ne’er-do-well son. But anyone over 30 probably knows that aviators have a rich heritage that stretches back much further than the Bidens’ time in the public eye.
Like a lot of things we wear, aviators have their roots in the military. With their signature dark or mirrored teardrop-shaped lenses, wire frames, double bridge, and bayonet earpieces, they were designed by Ray-Ban for pilots in 1936—miraculously, only six years before Joe Biden was born—then made available to the public a year later.
Their initial popularity was boosted by images of General Douglas MacArthur landing on the beach in the Philippines in World War II. In the intervening decades, their popularity has ebbed and flowed. In 1967’s Cool Hand Luke, Boss Godfrey wears a mirrored pair to sinister effect and makes the glasses foreboding rather than cool. But they were hot when Ringo and Paul wore them in the 1960s, and their sales exploded in the months following the release of Top Gun, in 1986. A year later, George Michael blew up MTV in his iconic “Faith” look, which would not be complete without a pair of mirrored aviators.
Now Joe Biden, Hunter Biden, and others, such as the reporter and podcaster Kara Swisher, have made the sunglasses part of their respective “brands.” Have they ruined aviators for the rest of us? Did the Blues Brothers, Tom Cruise, and Jack Nicholson ruin Wayfarers? No. Just make sure not to trail off midsentence or leave your laptop lying around and you’ll be completely fine.
RENT BOYS ON THE RUNWAY
Once upon a time, grown men in Hollywood were able to pick their own clothes for a red carpet, get dressed by themselves, and look pretty damned handsome. But those times are past, and now it’s obligatory for actors to create a “fashion moment” that gets photographed, talked about, covered, reviewed, listed, posted, reposted, liked, and set on fire in the comments section.
Somewhere along the line, either the stars, their stylists, or both decided that more roles and a bigger paycheck weren’t enough. They had to muscle in on the action and the buzz that women were generating on the red carpet. First, they ditched neckwear, leaving shirts open to compete in the cleavage contest. They waxed, and the shirts waned. Then some of them opted to lose the shirt altogether, going bare-chested under their jacket. Now the long-uncontroversial jacket sleeve is at stake.
As a big fan of the erotic arts, not to mention as a man who has appeared fully nude on television (Sex and the City, Season Two, in the episode “Games People Play”), I’m no one’s prude. Sexuality is fantastic. That said, I’m also a big believer in mystery. We fill the gaps with our minds and let our imaginations enhance the titillation.
But Rent the Runway now looks like Rent Boys on the Runway, and a lot of these guys look like arrivals at a hustlers’ ball. Grown men who aren’t necessarily known for an outsize persona are suddenly baring a stubbled neck, a freshly waxed chest, a naked arm, and, in the most extreme cases, some man boob. Many of them aren’t even gay, which amounts to the heterosexual’s version of stolen valor. Even worse, nothing is left for the imagination to latch onto.
My plea is this: for all the men who aren’t Lenny Kravitz or Timothée Chalamet (and that’s all but two of you), let’s put everything back where it belongs and ease up on the skin show. At this point, because walking the red carpet has turned into a blood sport, the man who shows up fully dressed in a simple, perfectly tailored black tux, a white shirt with onyx studs and cuff links, a black bow tie, and black patent-leather or velvet pumps might be the one who actually stands out.
KEEPING UP APPEARANCES
I’ve been wearing the same $15 wool scarf from H&M for more than 10 years, simply because I’ve taken care of it. My old cordovan chukka boots from Alden, which cost me more than $700 when I bought them ages ago, seem to look and wear better every year, because I take care of them. And the pocket lining that blew out of a beloved pair of vintage Levi’s 501s is like new again, because I had it taken care of.
In this age of disposable fashion, it’s so easy to throw things out. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve made a concerted effort to be more mindful of the things I’ve invested my money in. When the seam blows on a jacket, a hem comes undone on a pair of pants, or a button pops off a shirt, I’ve even been known to make the repairs myself, which is a skill that comes in handy, especially when traveling.
Of all my garments, it’s definitely the shoes that require the most maintenance. When I’m of a mind and in the mood, I actually enjoy cleaning, conditioning, and shining my own shoes. It’s a break from the intellectual paces of daily life, and I find it rather therapeutic. I also love stopping into a good cobbler for a shine when I’m out in the wild.
As for repairs, I dramatically cut down on the sole and heel wear by putting rubber taps under the heels and toes. Instead of having the heels replaced, I only need to have the taps replaced. Much less expensive. And when I’m not wearing them, all my dress shoes have cedar shoe trees in them to preserve the shape. My wingtips will outlive me.
My other must-have tools for wardrobe maintenance: good wood hangers that keep the shape of a jacket’s shoulders; a garment brush to remove lint, dust, and soot from clothes; a shoe-shine brush to clean shoes and help keep their luster between shines; a sewing kit in case of emergencies (along with a stash of the spare buttons that come with shirts, jackets, and coats when you buy them); and a good iron and a decent steamer.
A word to the wise: have suits and jackets dry-cleaned as seldom as possible. It’s a harsh process that takes years off a garment’s life. Instead, let your suits or dresses air out on a good hanger, brush them with the garment brush, and iron or steam as needed.
Making a little effort to care for your things means they last longer. And with each passing year, I get an even better cost-per-wear. Good deal.
George Hahn is a humorist, entertainer, and writer living in New York
