T is for Ties

Ties.

Curious things. Even the ones that are not neon.

My wife has far better taste than me in almost everything.

One of the curious exceptions to this rule is the tie. I think that there are rules to choosing a tie. I am not sure that I could explain the rules – but I know them.

A striped tie does not go with a pinstripe suit. Ties and shirts of the same colour had their moment. It was a moment. That was it. Ladies, let it go.

When I sold out of the corporate world and elected to become a writer, I consciously put the ties away.

However, I am a freemason (oooooooooooooooh!) and at Lodge, we wear ties. So I wore one.

Then, I sat on the interview panel for a new General Manager for the golf club. It seemed right to wear a tie. The chairman of the panel had remarked on the previous day “Well, I will be in jacket and tie, but there is no way that I am going to tell Stuart to wear a tie!”

Finally, I attended a funeral. The mother of a great friend had passed away. (Love you DCJ.)

As a younger man, I wore a tie under sufferance. In the corporate world, I saw it as a uniform. A cop-out. A statement of a conscious lack of personality or style.

In many ways, I still hold those views.

Increasingly, I have come to understand that there is a comfort in a tie. In each of the scenarios above my wearing a tie made others feel better.

Odd.

The power of an eccentric clothing accessory.

Any thoughts on ties?

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