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Perhaps the surest sign that I daydream too much is that I've worked out exactly how I will dress should I ever be elected Pope.
The 20th Century, especially the latter half, saw a huge decline in the state of public costume. The British royal family, for instance, are reduced to their drab military uniforms for state occasions, and even duller suits and frocks for everyday. And as above, so below: the era of the nurse in her peaked cap and white starched pinafore, of the bellhop's brocaded tunic and hat, of the school-teacher's gown and mortarboard, of the waiter's tuxedo—those days are over.
But why should they be? While I recognize this trend as part of an overall trend towards leveling and democratization, I don't want to get into the politics of it here. This thread starts with a recognition that costume matters: superhero comics understand this. In THE FILTH, the agents of the Hand are essentially garbagemen, yet they sport ornate, ludicrous uniforms—not to impress the general populace (to whom they are functionally invisible), but out of an innate sense of style, however misguided.
This isn't about giving people in the shitty jobs nice clothes to make them feel better about themselves, in lieu of proper compensation—this is about recognition for the folks who deserve it, for the people who really touch lives, who really make a contribution, who make society run. If I had my druthers, nurses would wear crowns, schoolteachers would have halos, and waiters and waitresses would sport medals for valor (and they'd all make a million dollars a year, while pro ballplayers pumped gas in the off-season—but that's another thread).
This is the Creation: remake the world. How would changes in public costume make the world a better, or kinder, or more stylish, or more amusing place? Which public costumes would you evolve upwards? downwards? sideways?
Some examples:
Ban the manufacture of dark suits and white shirts: the trading floors of Wall Street would swarm with color, stockbrokers in scarlet and peacock and emerald like a convention of pimps.
In my perfect world, all restaurant chefs would have elaborate, personalized outifits—ever chef an Iron Chef (and every chef would exit the kitchen thrice nightly for a victory lap around the restaurant, greeted by thunderous applause—but that's another thread).
Exchange one uniform for another: dress corporate CEOs in coveralls with the name stitched across the breast (Rupert, for instance).
Taking cues from ancient Greece: Actors would wear masks, crippling the cult of celebrity. Athletes would be naked except for pads and helmets as appropriate: teams would be distinguished by different-colored body paint.
What say you? |
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