Cheers,
Trout
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/28/dinin ... .html?_r=1
A Last Bastion of the Necktie Throws in the Towel
By GLENN COLLINS
Published: January 27, 2009
THE earth held firm in its orbit. The continents did not founder. Martial law was not imposed. This, despite the fact that the “21” Club has loosened its tie for the first time since it opened at 21 West 52d Street 79 years ago.
The power-dining oasis, where Manhattan’s surviving masters of the universe daily attempt critical mass, announced last Thursday that the restaurant, virtually the last in town with a neckwear rule, had abandoned its tie requirement at dinner in its two dining rooms, the Bar Room and Upstairs at 21.
Ties are “preferred,” it said — indeed, “greatly appreciated.” And mind you, gentlemen, your jackets must stay on.
Actually, “21” instituted the policy “after Labor Day, a soft opening if you will,” said Bryan McGuire, the manager for the last, yes, 21 years. “We wanted to be on a more level playing field with our competitors,” he said, adding, “We didn’t think it was that big a deal.” Especially since, during lunch, the tie policy was ixnayed in 1996, he said.
The restaurant’s publicist, Diana Biederman, said she issued the release so people could “know about the policy in these challenging times.”
Mr. McGuire, though, insisted that the decision was not recession-driven.
But he allowed that the policy “could help the restaurant greatly in a time of difficulty.” Revenue, $18.5 million last year, is off by “double digits,” he said.
The restaurant has made other concessions to the economy, including free parking for all dinner patrons.
(For the record, he noted, ties are required in the 20-seat private dining room, the Wine Cellar.)
The Zagat 2009 New York City Restaurant guide has starred the Rainbow Room (which offers dinner on “selected” Friday and Saturday nights even as its landlord seeks to terminate its lease for nonpayment of rent) as the only other public restaurant requiring a tie among 13 that demand jackets.
“It is the final victory of Los Angeles,” Tim Zagat said.
So far, diners have responded with both fulmination and forbearance.
“Etiquette is on a downward spiral, and politeness is disappearing,” said Michael O’Keeffe, the dapper owner and proprietor of the River Café, who said that jacket and tie have been his unvarying uniform since his days at Fordham Preparatory School. “I will miss the tie policy at ‘21.’ It held up an example of what etiquette could be.”
He added that while the River Café requires jackets, it hasn’t insisted on ties in decades, because “it made no sense, to some very stylish people, that style had anything to do with ties.”
John F. Hennessy III, chairman of the American Council of Engineering Companies, a regular customer at “21” for 35 years who dined in the restaurant with both his father and grandfather, said, “I’m not shocked at the news,” adding: “It is an appropriate change.”
And Bill White, 42, president of the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum, who first ate at “21” when he was 21, allowed that “now Bill Gates and the Google guys can come in.”
But to Alan Flusser, a men’s wear designer in Manhattan who has been dining at “21” for 34 years, the no-tie policy “is unfortunate.” He added, “I’m a traditionalist, and I don’t think this sends the right message to young people.”
After the new tie policy was announced, one blog, Lost City (which describes itself as “a running Jeremiad on the vestiges of Old New York as they are steamrolled under”) asked: “Couldn’t we get the old-school La Grenouille to uphold the old ways and begin requiring ties again?”
Not likely, said Charles Masson, general manager of the 47-year-old restaurant that abandoned its tie-only policy in 2003 (but not its jacket requirement). “There used to be a time when men wore white wigs, too,” he said.
Julian Niccolini, a partner at The Four Seasons restaurant, asked simply, “Why should I tell people how to dress?” He said his restaurant stopped enforcing its tie policy in 1977.
The tie drawer in the “21” cloakroom — where generations of patrons have repaired their faux-pas — is as much a part of the restaurant’s lore as its checked tablecloths and the ceiling dangling with dozens of (obsessively dusted) toy airplanes, ships and football helmets (including that of Frank Gifford). The restaurant’s publicist, Ms. Biederman, said it would continue to proffer ties to the needy who prefer them.
“I remember one night they loaned me a navy blue fly-fishing tie — you know, with the flies on it,” Mr. Hennessy recalled. “I told them I liked it — and they gave it to me! I still have it.”