inshop.com: Naked Underneath: Dressing Men
VALERIE REISS
02/01/2000
Men often need help dressing. A recent New York Times Magazine included an article by a man who’s ex-girlfriend bought him clothes one too many times 3 he felt he was being redone in a way he did not want redoing. Her clothes-giving (and their relationship) culminated in a Helmut Lang birthday suit.
This is nothing new. Women have been dressing men for eons: “You’re not going to the Flintstone’s party in THAT pelt, are you? But I love this pelt, I’ve had this pelt forever. I know, honey, but how about wearing this one instead?”
Sometimes this kind of remodeling is questionable. But sometimes it is just plain necessary. Case in point: Jason. A love, a hoot, brainiac, hair the color of lit embers and a loyal, great friend. But the clothes? Ooh, those early days were rough. Poly-blend short-sleeve plaids, ill-fitting khakis, big basketball shoes. His whole demeanor screamed, “Dress me.”
A soft soul heeded the call. Devora introduced a vest here, a cotton shirt there, new glasses and regular shoes. I suspect she was also responsible for the proper cutting and placement of all that red hair.
By the end of college, the rough jewel shined. He was happy, even relieved, I think, to have his clothes better reflect who he was. And she showed her approval by marrying him. It was symbiotic, even-Steven. At least from my outsider perspective.
I do not know the internals of their dynamic, but I do know how my own brain and ego work when I dress men. Take my current beau, for example. I love buying him clothes. It’s like shopping for myself with an extra thrill attached. I imagine how he will look in it, how much he will like it and how profusely he will thank me for it.
Because of the latter blind spot, I find myself rolling through a mental checklist every time I buy for him. Is it so him or very me? Am I buying this item so he will better resemble my ideal man/ex-boyfriend/hot J.Crew guy? Does it match his lifestyle and philosophy? And, What is the message of this gift? Is it I love you, I love you but wished you dressed better, or Change now! For me!?
Much to my ego’s chagrin (it likes to think of itself as a selfless river of giving), I often find my road of good intentions clotted with selfishness. Sometimes I pretend not to see these blots of self-service, but I usually trip over them on my way to the cash register. Then I pick myself up and evaluate the degree of my selfishness: Am I buying this flannel shirt so that he will be softer to hug, or because I like outdoorsy chic better than his generic preppy?
Sometimes I am a giver with a gift in my heart and sometimes I am a giver filled with my own need. But the truth is, my man would never attempt to buy me clothing that I hadn’t selected, and this makes me think. A sweater, a scarf or well-chosen earrings 3 divine. But any sort of deliberate alteration of my style would eventually, if not quickly, make me feel stifled and insulted—like the man in the New York Times article.
Maybe the rules of therapy and Alcoholics Anonymous can be translated and applied to dressing men AND women: you cannot — and should not — dress anyone who is not ready to dress themselves.