I think of living elegantly as sort of gliding through life. It is an appealing thought, that seamless transition from event to event, place to place and deed to deed. To live like this requires social lubricant. And no, I do not mean drinks at noon, as nice as that might sound.

I mean manners. Simple, direct, thoughtfulness. Ot at least awareness of the impact that your actions may have on others.

Like the young woman who didn’t curb her dog yesterday after “walking it” on my sidewalk. Mrs. E. unleashed her high school teacher alter-ego and ran her down to hand her a bag. For which action she was rewarded, what my friend from Tennessee would call, “the stinkeye.”

Yes, I am fully aware that I am tilting at windmills.

I have just returned from The Children’s Museum. Kids these days…

But who can blame them? They have no role models.

I realize that sportsmanship and manners are two distinctly different things. So the men who ignored the children’s behaviour think they have an excuse. I mention sportsmanship because, almost to a man, each of them was dressed for action. Iron Man triathlete watches. All-terrain trainers. Ripstop hiking shorts with extra pockets. Dry-release technical t-shirts or ripstop fishing guide shirts with the ventilated backs. Ball caps, boonie hats, straw golfer’s hats.

I was a bit surprised not to have seen a canteen swung from a shoulder. Yes, these were clearly coaches, assistant coaches, big game hunters, arctic explorers. They had bigger fish to fry than to worry about something so arcane as good manners. And each was being singularly ineffective at it, whatever it was. Most were just obstacles for the racing hordes.

Of course the place was a zoo. Which must have been difficult for the child actors who were belting their way through “Suessical, the Musical” (Abridged.) There were also a few polo shirted and be-khaki’ed men milling about with their charges … quiet and well-behaved children who watched the show. And a number of mothers and care-takers who were taking care to behave politely and not station themselves directly in front of me, thereby obstructing the view. One actually said excuse me when she tried to pass in back of me with the double stroller. I assured her that it was I who should be excused for impeding her passage. (”Oh, sorry… please….”)

No, I figure the coaches and crocodile hunters let their wives handle the social niceties. Not that there was any evidence that they had been so charged. They stood about, for the most part, in nicely dressed cliques of three and watched as their children ran roughshod over anything, or anyone, standing in their paths. When an older child zipped in front of my two year old and tripped him up causing him to smack face-first into the iron stairway he was trying to negotiate (I was a half step away… trying not to trip over the little hellion who dashed between us) there was simply a blank stare from a woman standing next to us.

No admonition to “be careful young man.”

Not even feigned concern or a “Oh goodness, I hope he’s OK.”

But then I imagine she was having difficulty talking on her cell phone since it was so loud in the museum today.

Are my kids perfect? Far from it. But they apologize. When asked. They share. When asked. They try to be patient. When asked. They take turns. When they are told to.

See a pattern?

Is it because we don’t know everybody in town they way people used to? (”Oh Mrs. Reilly, I am sorry. Johnny is a bit wound up with all the chocolate and excitement today. Johnny, tell Billy you’re sorry this instant.”)

Or are we no longer a reflection of our parents? (”Mind your manners. You are an ambassador of your country” I was frequently reminded. “Do not embarrass us or yourself. You are a guest here” was another favourite.)

No, kids these days are wild. And I suppose some of us, “their elders,” will always worry about that.

The youth of today love luxury; they have bad manners and contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Youth are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up food at the table, and tyrannize their teachers. (Supposedly from Socrates as quoted in Plato’s “The Republic.” There is no firm attribution, though.)

I see no hope for the future of our people if they are dependent on frivolous youth of today, for certainly all youth are reckless beyond words… When I was young, we were taught to be discreet and respectful of elders, but the present youth are exceedingly wise [disrespectful] and impatient of restraint (Hesiod, 8th century BC via google answers.)

Now I’m all for frivolity. Many consider my pursuit of an everyday elegance to be completely frivolous.

Even kids these days.

But I will do my best, each and every day, to remember that I am, willingly or not, a role model. During one of my jobs, I had a boss who had a great motto. It has stuck with me through many a year. I’ll leave you with it.

Never surrender the moral high-ground.

So endeth the screed. I’m off to finish reading this. Back with something useful tomorrow.

Mr. Maier has it right, there is casual and there is casual.

The problem with menswear today is that it rocks. I should say “It ROCKS!” As in “Dude, you are really rocking that suit.”

Yeah…

Now I, like Donny Osmond, admit to being a little bit rock and roll. But since I am no longer a skinny teenager, I find that I no longer want to look the part. And I know that you wouldn’t want to have such a sight inflicted upon you.

At one point, even rockers wore sharply cut suits and ties. They were working it like a job, as the saying goes. The Beatles, with their long hair, skinny suits and Chelsea boots were seriously conservative compared with the spandex and shredded denim crowd that they would spawn. Mick Jagger was a Savile Row customer. Me? Despite the 30 minutes that I spent being a punk rocker, my look was more akin to The Style Council new mod. At least that’s what I hoped.

But what I’m driving at is the quest for eternal youth embodied by the 30+ year old “rockin’ ” his two day beard, slim suit, skinny tie, and … sneakers. It’s not cutting edge; it’s been done. Everyone plays around with the suit. The college kids did it after the war… WWI…. when they rebelled against Victorian restraint. But they looked pretty good doing it. The sack suit was our answer to the London cut. All loungey, unshaped comfort. The pendulum swung again… and again. You needn’t go to awning striped and piped blazers, nor do you need to go for the black suit, black shirt, etc. look so popular in Hollywood. You should pay attention to how your clothes will look in five years. Suitably elegant? Keep it. Hopelessly outdated? Hold on to it and sell it on eBay when it becomes ironic. In my wardrobe I have things made this season and things made for Mrs. E.’s grandfather. They sit side by side very comfortably. To stay fashionable, simply stay discreetly elegant.

“Hey, how come we wear trousers and he wears leotards?” Dean Martin questions Sammy Davis, Jr.’s seriously slim fitting suit.

I’m not suggesting that you forgo comfort. Look at the Bottega Veneta collection above, I have more constricting pyjamas. Sure, it’s a “Charlie Chaplin” silhouette with a fitted jacket, looser trouser and sturdy shoe. Armani draws on the same inspiration, as did Ralph Lauren: the 1920’s and 30’s. Because that was the epitome of male elegance. Take the lessons learned and apply them to every article of clothing that you purchase or commission. Does it make you look good and is it timeless? Well-cut, well-fitted, comfortable clothing appropriate for your age will never age you. You will always look well-dressed and elegant.

Take for example the following two celebrities.

Jude Law (a Kilgour man. Image Alan Davidson for the Daily Mail) may make some mistakes, but on the whole…

Steven Tyler (People Magazine. Credit: Schwartzwald-Kaffe/Splash News and Pictures;Theo Wargo/WireImage)

” ‘Nuff said.”

Unless you’re a very buffed up rock star (with Charlie Watts as the obvious sartorial exception); please don’t go there. And even if you are, reconsider wearing a well-cut jacket (with long trousers, please.) It can only help.

(Image Glenn Harris for Photorazzi via exposay.com)

Thus endeth the lesson.

Habitually chic Habitually Chic has asked very nicely that I answer the following questions. So, dear readers, train the naked bulb onto my pale countenance and take notes. Here I am, for the most part.

1. What did you do 10 years ago? Let’s see, 1998… as a recently repatriated newlywed of one year… I joined a start up advertising and marketing company as a copywriter and third person in the firm.

2. Five items on your to-do list today:
• Visit my tailors for a fitting of my new MTM double breasted blue blazer and grey flannel slacks. (Very nice job with only minor tweaking needed! Thanks Larry!)
• Work Out. (See this article from Men’s Health Best Life http://www.bestlifeonline.com/cms/publish/health-fitness/Get_Back_in_the_Game.shtml)
• Iron Shirts (there’s still time, it is a Sisyphean task.)
• Post and comment. One out of two ain’t bad. I miss my daily doses of incredibly elegant writing, but I am working on my time management while the children are home.
• Take dry cleaning in… arrrgggh. Not having found a perfect dry cleaner (well I did and then Pitchford’s closed), I am am obviously, consciously, overlooking this “to-do.”

3. Snacks I enjoy: I don’t have a sweet tooth, but love tapas and most things salty and/or crunchy.
• Virginia Peanuts
• Almonds
• Cape Cod 40% Less Fat Potato Chips
• Cheeses of all nationalities
• Wasabi covered Edamame or Peas
• French fries
• Kippers and crackers
• Apples
• A glass of Rosé or Champagne (also Rosé as it is the driest of them all….) Yes, it is a snack. Especially when I can make a meal of cocktail hour given half a chance and a bottle of gin or single malt.

4. What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Call Gary, my very good friend and lawyer.
Set up the children’s trust funds. Settle family debts.
Speak with Jeffrey, my very good friend and fundraiser.
Consult the architect as he is very advanced in living life very well.
Buy art and redecorate with higher quality furnishings and the advice of a professional.
Hire someone well-spoken in several languages, taller and better looking to impersonate me in public.
Buy a “car,” hire a driver, a personal trainer and a full time housekeeper. (Hereafter referred to as “staff” or “help.”)
Less ironing and polishing (see point immediately above.)
Planes (Virgin Atlantic), trains (Orient Express) and vintage automobiles.
Sail for London (Cunard Line) and an appointment on Savile Row.
Blog.
Produce (just kidding.)

5. Places I would live: As a billionaire? Washington D.C., la Côte d’Azur, London, England, Madrid or Barcelona, Spain. Depending on our whims and the season. Although the dedicated Mrs. E. has said that when the ship comes in, she would prefer to keep working as she has the summers off anyway. So we may remain here, in lil’ ol’ Richmond, VA.

6. Bloggers I am passing the challenge onto are: already tagged, I’m sure. We’re an incestuous little group. But, I’m looking forward to meeting more of you and so, by way of recompense, I’ll ask for comments: Why do you blog? And what fascinates you about your topic? Leave links so that I can find more of you, please!