People mistake the notion of taste. Whatever one thinks of Chomky's worldviews, his style is very much a reflection of him as a person: a radical leftist academic who bought tailored clothing during the 1950s and 60s, which gives him a certain familiarity. 🧵
Please note that in the following thread, I am not placing any value judgment on the term "Good Taste." I am only talking about it in the sociological sense. Every group has its own notion of taste, but only one gets privileged. Also, I'm not here to debate Chomsky's politics.
In his book Distinction, Pierre Bourdieu notes that the notion of Good Taste is nothing more than the preferences and habits of the ruling class. In American culture, this class is represented by the likes of William Buckley and George Plimpton.
Chomsky didn't grow up as a member of this class—he's a son of working-class Jewish immigrants—but he's certainly familiar with it, if only through proximity. After all, he debated Buckley, who famously threatened to punch him in the face, in 1969 on the show Firing Line.
Chomsky was born in 1928, which means he would have started shopping for tailored clothing in the late 1940s/ early 1950s. During this period, there were still one-stop-shop clothiers with tailors who could help you build a wardrobe.
So when you see earlier photos of him, it's not surprising that he dressed pretty well—his proximity to Good Taste and access to decent stores meant that he did not look terrible (true of many men of his generation).
But there are always things that betray his social position: his use of mid-calf socks, instead of over-the-calf socks, with tailored clothing. The occasionally questionable tie (this striped cotton knit tie is pretty ugly and obvs driven by the fashion of that era)
But even in his older years, you will not see him in the truly awful tailoring that's common today, partly because he grew up during a period when men wore tailoring more regularly and had access to clothiers who guided them. He knows when things are too tight.
Some things hint at his counter-cultural leanings, such as the Army jackets that student protestors pressed into subversive services in the 1960s and '70s. And Clarks Wallabees, which were once associated with intellectuals and progressives.
And look at the types of sweaters he's worn throughout his life. In the original thread, one commentator called these sweaters "generic." Perhaps. But they are Shetlands and Shaker knits, commonly sold in stores such as Brooks Brothers and J. Press.
These are not like the smooth merino sweaters you see at the mall. If you look at the history of well-dressed men before 1980, you'll notice that the knits often have a spongey texture.
I don't know what Chomksy specifically found offensive about this tie. But from the photo, it appears a bit shiny—perhaps made from satin. In this framework of "Good Taste," satin ties are considered a bit vulgar, especially outside of dinner suits.
Note that I am not trying to draw any comparison between Trump and Greenwald beyond neckwear. But to give an example, Trump has made shiny ties a style signature—a bold, brash, wealthy businessman who lives in a gold home and wears shiny ties. It's the opposite of "Good Taste."
A more tasteful, neutral tie would be something like a regimental stripe in repp silk or Irish poplin. Matte, tasteful, quiet.
Greenwald is also a product of his generation. He was born in 1967, during the waning years of the coat-and-tie. By the time he would have shopped for himself as a young adult, the market was already chaotic, and notions of Good Taste were less relevant.
That class has almost no social relevance today. The centers of cultural, political, and financial power have shifted away from Plimpton and Buckley and towards Musk and Bezos.
There's some irony in that, as the upper classes have dressed down to look more middle-class, income inequality has mostly grown every decade since the 1980s.
In any case, to bring this back to ties, I don't find it surprising that a man who grew up with tailored clothing might have an opinion on ties. And one does not need to be Anna Wintour or be dressed "fashionably" to have a sense of taste.
To flatten Chomsky's style to a "guy who wears generic sweaters" is to miss the nuances in how men's style expresses deeper things. Some irony is how a self-professed anarcho-syndicalist and libertarian socialist upheld old notions of ruling-class taste.
Whoops, in my haste, I included the wrong chart on income inequality. The relevant charts are on this Pew Research page.
Will comment on this fit since Gavin asked for feedback. Also think this photo illustrates some potentially useful things regarding dressing for your body type, the specialness of tailoring, and why custom clothing can be bad. 🧵
Before I go on, I should note there's a lot of body shaming on Twitter. This thread is not meant to do that, but instead the opposite: show that anyone can dress stylishly if they know a few things.
When people see comparisons like this, they think: "Oh, Bryan Ferry looks better bc he possesses some magnetic aura," or "Oh, Gavin McInnes looks bad because I hate him." Some may also attribute the difference in weight (e.g., "Ferry is svelte; McInness is not"). This is wrong.
IMO, people are getting too reductive about synthetic fabrics, equating "natural" with "good" and "synthetic" with "bad." Much depends on the material and how it's used. I will give some examples. 🧵
Nearly every high-end suit, sport coat, or pair of tailored trousers is lined in Bemberg, which is a brand name for cupro (a material made from rayon). Rayon is so great that even the best bespoke tailors in the world use it for lining.
Rayon is a soft, slippery fabric that's often used as a silk substitute. It's more breathable than silk, which is why tailors switched to rayon linings ~100 years ago. Why do you want this material in your jackets and pants?
My post was sort of tongue-in-cheek, but I do feel that if you're a jeans and hoodie guy, you can just find versions of what you love. Identify the qualities you like and find better versions of that thing. Will give an example. 🧵
In 2019, I interviewed @andrew3sixteen, who co-founded @3sixteen (one of my favorite denim brands). He's a busy dude, a family man, and a father to two young boys. I remember him telling me that, except for outerwear, he only buys clothes that can be thrown into the wash.
He doesn't even engage in the kind of meticulous shoe-care techniques that are often talked about online (leather conditioning, polishing, etc). These are his Viberg work boots (new vs old). He prefers things that are easy to care for and get better with age.
If someone is serious about traditional aesthetics, they should know something about it. Read Esquire's Encyclopedia of 20th Century Men's Fashions, Apparel Arts, or early issues of Esquire. Many men in the past knew that certain outfits were fine without socks.
The problem with much Twitter discourse about aesthetics is that it's totally ignorant of the past and completely couched in modernity. People's views are knee-jerk reactions to certain groups, trends, or modernity itself. Very little appreciation for nuance and history.
An example of how this manifests: In an effort to signal to others that they are better than the "moderns," some "internet gentlemen" say that grown men should not wear sneakers. This is nothing more than someone who is ignorant of history and wishes to signal to others that they are more sophisticated than the hoi polloi, like a guy posing with a cigar and glass of whiskey.
It's perfectly fine for someone to say that they personally dislike sneakers. But dumb to say that grown men shouldn't wear sneakers. Plenty of men in the past wore sneakers, even ones often held up as an arbiter elegantiarum of men's style: the Duke of Windsor and JFK among them.
These sorts of grand statements only reveal someone's lack of knowledge of the past, even as they wag their fingers about "return to traditions."
Let me tell you a story about a $100 American shirt. 🧵
In 1896, Brooks Brothers president John E. Brooks—grandson to company founder Henry Sands Brooks—saw British polo players wearing something peculiar. Their collar points had little buttons that fastened to their body, preventing them from flying up while riders were in play.
Enamored with the design, Brooks sent a sample to his store in Manhattan with instructions to have the collar copied. Hence, the birth of Brooks Brothers' "polo collar"—also known as the button-down. The design was first put on pullover shirts, then coat-front varieties.