Sartorial Fillips

Since I revealed erstwhile that I possess an extensive "vintage" (that word is a bit vulgar) necktie collection, I thought I'd reveal my own sensibility (in the modern, not Austenian, sense) about such. My prizes are the pleated neckties. Pleated neckties are usually of one color, with a dado or clock rampant. We know the history of such-- that ostentatious scarves came into vogue from France (where all styles begin) in the 18th century. They were quite long and colorful and were worn about the neck, were tied ostensibly haphazardly, and allowed to flow and flutter outward in order to make a nuisance of oneself. Materials, weaves, colors, and patterns varied, but silk, of course, was preferred. By the later 19th century, the English had toned things down considerably ("toning things down" is the English metier) to a narrower and tamer strip of cloth. In the 20th century, ties went from very wide and very short, ending mid-thorax (1940s) to very narrow and longer (1950s). The wide versus narrow fashion alternated, but, since about 1950, tie length has become standardized-- the base of the outer and larger end should come to an end at about the belt buckle-- or just cover the buckle, if you choose. These latter days, ties ending short are seen as flappy; ties that hang down into one's nether parts suffer the misfortune of exposing too strongly their symbolic correspondence (that is, as a phallic symbol). Lately, that most vulgar of all public figgers, Mr. Trump, wears his in that way-- rather unhappily over long. Pleated ties have a natural elegance, in that they suggest a complexity of design that supersedes any need for ornate decoration. Philistines associate the Italians with the best neckties, and some are rather fine. But America has also produced fine ties-- Countess Mara, for example. The best ties are made of silk, although some very fine numbers in the best rayon were made in the 1950s. Bowties are making a comeback-- how nice!-- but that's another strip altogether.