The Clothes Do Not Make the Man: A Feminist Response to J. Bryan Lowder’s Most Recent “Fine Whine”

Recently, J. Bryan Lowder contributed his two-cents to Slate’s “A Fine Whine” feature, detailing his judgments on the clothing choices of his fellow travelers in “Take a One Way Trip From Tatty to Natty.” Typically reserved for frivolous topics, “A Fine Whine” usually provides a stage for snarky yet delightful commentary on unpopular opinions. “Fireworks Suck,” by Troy Patterson, was a particularly tickling example of snark done well; a hyperbolic poke at the absurdity of a tradition we take for granted.  But snark, as we know, is a delicate art, and as Lowder proved this week, missing the mark can mean providing the reader with a less-than-fine whine at best—and hateful, shallow noise at worst. Lowder’s piece laments what he observes as a trend toward the general public dressing sloppily for travel, revealing not only his own, solipsistic standards for dress, but his judgments against those that offend his sophisticated sensibilities. I began the piece hoping to be entertained by the smarmy musings of, say, the avuncular curmudgeon, but I left wondering, Who the hell are you to tell me what to wear? 

The basic premise of Lowder’s argument is this: when he has to suffer the indignities of being thrown into Coach Class with the rest of us plebes, he goes out of his way to dress up for it, to prove to the rest of us, via his refined fashion choices (clothing likely produced by low-wage workers who themselves could never come close to affording their own travel wardrobe, let alone the cost of a plane ticket), that he is better than us. Furthermore, he strongly encourages that all the other “schlumps” out there do the same. Is his piece informed by the misguided belief that he only needs to dress the First Class part in order to pull himself up by his fine Italian leather bootstraps? Not really, though his argument is at least class-based. His argument is firmly rooted in classism—his ostensibly lighthearted sartorial musings become a thinly veiled excuse to publicly shame everyone around him for the visibility of their bodies, their choices, and their social class. 

But before you go accusing him of elitism, dear reader, think twice! Because he has precluded this need, first by simply telling you that you must not judge his judgments, and then by undermining his own attempt at proving otherwise, demonstrating just how elitist he is:

 Now, before I’m accused of elitism, understand that I am not calling for a three-piece suit on every JetBlue hop or Megabus jaunt… I am simply suggesting that, when traveling by public means, each of us dress “nicely” or “respectably” according to our means. I certainly don’t have the funds for a dedicated travel ensemble, but I can manage to pull together an attractive trouser, a pressed shirt, close-toed shoes, and perhaps even a light sport coat or cardigan—the kind of thing I generally wear to work—with little effort or expense.

Generously, Lowder doesn’t expect any of us to show up in black tie. Instead, he suggests that we should only be reasonably expected to show up in a light sport coat or cardigan, or, what I will call: Casual Country Club Attire. Of course, if you are not familiar with typical Country Club dress codes, perhaps because your family was not of the “means,” or perhaps because your family was not “white,” fear not. Lowder has another guideline you can use: the kind of thing you would typically wear to work… So long as your work is not blue collar.

Yet, according to the most recent estimates compiled by the Kaiser Family Foundation of data from the Census Bureau’s Current Population Survey (2012), the majority of Americans in the workforce (61%) are blue collar workers: assistants and clerical workers, technicians and repair workers, artists and entertainers, service workers, laborers, salespersons, operators, skilled trade workers, assemblers, or former military. Think about what these jobs entail. Many of them require a uniform—not a sport coat. This is especially true for women, who also happen to make up the majority of the service and minimum wage workforce in this country (nearly two thirds), if they are paid for their work at all. I wonder if Lowder happened to notice if any of the slobby women on his trip had children traveling with them. Or whether they looked tired, overstretched, or busy. Or, perhaps like they might have more serious concerns to contend with beyond pulling on an uncomfortable pair of slacks in order to act as responsible denizens of a fantasy world in which people exist for another person’s visual benefit.

The classist implications of passing judgment on how others are dressed for travel are obvious, and Lowder acknowledges that, though he deftly dismisses this problem of privilege, as only the privileged can do. (The empty mea culpa of “Now, before I’m accussed of elitism…” may as well be followed with, “know that some of my best friends are poor!”). But I wonder if he stopped to consider the long, sexist history of suggesting to a woman, as a man, that she ought to dress “respectably” if she is going to have the gall to show up in public. I wonder if he considered the irony of policing the outward appearance of those that have transgressed tradition, of shaming those who have the audacity to express themselves at the expense of others’ “comfort”? Surely these cannot be concepts with which Lowder is unfamiliar, given his typical and generally thoughtful writings examining LGBTQ issues and exposing commonplace homophobia. Lowder has both a voice and a platform to broaden the national conversation around LGBTQ and other social justice issues, but his intelligence and understanding become a bit hard to respect when he is talking out both sides of his mouth. Homophobia and classism do not exist in silos.

Social justice—for women, for people of color, for LGBTQ folks, for poor folks—calls for inclusivity, and for the destruction of all forms of oppression. This includes abandoning attitudes that embrace “an us vs. them” mentality, or, in this case, “me vs. them.” Lowder notes that others have similarly observed that “dressing decently seems to garner superior treatment from transit staff,” but the way to elicit better treatment from our fellow human beings should not involve perpetuating a system of privilege by seeking to gain membership among the privileged class. We should instead seek to move beyond that system of privilege altogether, so that none have to seek better treatment by positioning themselves higher relative to others. Instead of yearning for a seat in First Class, what if we yearned instead for no First Class at all? What if we stopped creating the kind of divisions that necessitated that someone always remain on the bottom, just so that others could be on the top?

Of course, when such ambitious acts are not possible, our goal should simply be to be kind to others whenever and where ever we can—and certainly regardless of how they are able or have chosen to present themselves. Let’s stop worrying about the person crammed uncomfortably next to us on the plane is dressed—an experience that is unpleasant enough as is—and instead focus on creating a world with less income inequality. The clothes do not make the man, even though most of us are working for him.