There was a time when much of what our Civilization produced was beautiful and awe inspiring—those days have regrettably flickered away into the darkness. All that exists now are the dim reflections and scattered bones left from a time when there existed a culture which valued more than short term profits and pleasures. We can see phantasms of this bygone world in its photographs, art, and, also, in those buildings that have not yet been demolished to make way for some new jenga block tower complete with a stark hospital interior. When we look back, we see a civilization where absolute truth and objective beauty was taken as a given. We see a civilization which was still largely beautiful. What changed?  Simply put, God was abandoned, and with God so went truth, absolutes, and all aspirations towards that which is higher. Our Civilization can no longer dream—it can only seek cheap pleasures or the temporary, but fleeting security of wealth. There is no space left for the pure and the beautiful when you are rapidly tumbling towards oblivion. 

How can we make the Queen City a bit more beautiful and a bit brighter for all when there is so much working against us? With all the darkness and absurdity proudly masquerading around us, it can make the task of re-beautifying the world seem rather hopeless sometimes. We probably are not able to turn art, architecture, or the culture on its head during our lifetime. While we work at these longer term goals, what can we do in the here and now? We can make our own appearances a bit more cheerful and bright in a world that would rather we be dull and gloomy.

When looking upon the dim reflections of the bygone world, we should remind ourselves that along with the beautiful art and buildings, there were also persons, who were as elevated as the beautiful towers which once crowned the skyline. As you undoubtedly know from seeing antique photographs and films, the men in these photos presented themselves much differently than we men do today. It used to be that a man was not a man without his hat. He did not leave the house without a coat and tie; his hair was always clean cut; athletic wear was reserved for the gym; and shorts were for a day at the beach. There was a uniform for society and to be part of it, you had to wear your suit.  

Like the art, architecture, and morals of our civilization, the way that men present themselves has likewise diminished precipitously since the end of the Second World War. Death of the well dressed gentleman came with the counterculture revolt of the 1960s and 70s. This era of radical individualism threw away the idea that we owe it to our neighbors to present ourselves in a manner befitting to their dignity and we replaced this noble ideal with a laissez faire attitude towards decorum. It does not matter how you appear, or behave, towards others, all that matters is that you do what you want. Morality, gender, and truth, it is all fluid—there is no point to honor your neighbor anymore. It is obvious to see where this poisonous individualism has led. 

The state of affairs has only declined since the mid 20th century, and it is now considered widely acceptable, and perhaps, even stylish, to go out in attire that should be reserved for the gym or the bedroom. Even Chistian men in our modern era have failed to cultivate a proper sense of decorum and politeness. Some simply do not care. Others even see such attitudes as merely worldly. Even when coming before our Lord during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, it is not an uncommon sight at many parishes to see men wearing shorts and other bits of casual attire. Sadly, at many of these same parishes, it would be uncommon to see a man in a jacket and a tie. 

Certainly, the character of a man matters more than the quality of his cufflinks. That said, the mere act of ensuring that one presents himself well to others is a charitable act that is a testament to one’s good character. Putting oneself together before going out in public, or even to a gathering of friends, says to others that they are worthy of respect and honor. For instance, if you were to be granted an audience with the Holy Father, I suspect that you would be as put together as you could possibly be. You might even go out and buy yourself a new suit for such a momentous occasion. Why would you do this? Why not wear a t-shirt—is not merely being polite enough? You would go through these extra lengths to do this because you have a great deal of respect (I hope) for the Holy Office, and in addition to your words and actions, you want your appearance to reflect this respect. Taking care to make sure that one’s appearance is befitting of those whom he comes before is a real way of manifesting one’s respect, and, very often, it is the first way that one can manifest their respect for others. Like the wedding guest in Christ’s parable of the wedding banquet, we should ensure that we present ourselves before our neighbors in proper garments needed to honor those whom we find ourselves before (Matthew 22:1-14).  The same kind of respect we give to the Holy Father or the couple at a wedding should be given to our fellow neighbors. 

When we present ourselves sloppily in public to our neighbors, we do them a great disservice. St. Peter called us to honor all men (1 Peter  2:17). Saint Francis de Sales states in his Introduction to a Devout Life that one should let nothing be negligent about them, and that it “is a kind of contempt of those with whom we converse, to frequent their company in uncomely apparel[.]” If we go out in wrinkled jeans, a wrinkled shirt, and uncombed hair—what does that say to others? It says that we cannot be bothered to put ourselves together because they are not important enough for us to even fasten a row of shirt buttons. On the other hand, when we take the time to put on a button down shirt, press a pair of slacks, or shine our shoes, we tell people that they all mattered enough for us to go through this effort. Our neighbors notice this effort, and they appreciate it. 

From my own experience, whenever I encounter a particularly well-dressed gentleman, I cannot help but notice that they tend to brighten up the room. At my parish, there are a few exemplary men who are always particularly thoughtful in their wardrobe choices, whether it is Sunday, a feast day, or a casual parish event. These individuals always seem to elevate the mood. Why? By dressing well, they honor all those whom they encounter, and we cannot help but recognize when someone has done us a kindness. In a society far removed from the genteel times of old, we notice these kindnesses even more. If we strive to honor our fellow man in all ways, including how we present ourselves before them, we just might be able to recapture a bit of those kinder times.

When we go to church, even if we do not own a full suit, we should always do the best that we can to honor God when we are in his presence. Likewise, since we are also called to honor our neighbor with dignity befitting to them, we should be putting our best foot forward in our daily interactions with them. I am not saying that every man needs to, or should, be wearing a Savile Row suit. Every man should be well groomed and put together as fitting for his station. With the wide availability of inexpensive jackets, shirts, ties and shoes, at a minimum I say that every man can at least wear a pressed shirt, trousers, and a pair of shoes with a good shine when he goes out. In doing this, you will brighten the day of many others for the charity you have shown them, and in a little way, you can help make the Queen’s City a bit brighter.