In praise of the blue shirt: an essay
Posted: Sun Nov 09, 2008 7:58 am
Is the white business shirt the near equivalent of the black suit for daywear?
A provocative thesis, to be sure, and one that will bear some justification. The first hints of this heretical thought entered my mind while reading this post on Matt Fan’s excellent blog, wherein he remarks that:
“My new philosophy toward shirts is that they should all be blue. Barring the occasional need for a formal white shirt, some kind of blue shirt always works. In the past I have worn pink, green, yellow, etc. It's not that these other colors can't look good. Rather, I am striving for greater simplicity. Blue works well with my skin tone and my preference for earthy jacket colors. There is also something appealingly conservative about blue shirts: they are never frivolous, never flamboyant, and always somewhat masculine.
In the future I will rely on my ties, pocket squares, and socks to satisfy any whimsy for more color.”
Matt expressed the exact sentiments that had been lurking in my subconscious regarding shirt selection of late. Of my last five acquisitions, one was a blue and white striped banker, one a blue pencil stripe on white, and two were pale blue solids (one with mitred barrel cuff, one French cuff). I compiled a fortnightly rotation comprising my favourite ten shirts that I either presently own or am to acquire in the next fortnight: these four are joined by a pale blue fil-a-fil, and a rather unique specimen I own with blue and white horizontal stripes edged in pink.
More telling was the number of whites on the list: only one, in a fine herringbone weave to balance silk knits or grenadines. And even then, only because I don’t like coloured herringbone shirts.*
All of this in spite of the central prominence, the near fetishisation, accorded to the ‘crisp white shirt’ in menswear writing. We will come back to this juxtaposition of words in just a moment, but let us linger on the visceral reaction that the phrase provokes in the mind. It takes me back to the golden years of cinema, American, French or Italian, and conjures up a Grant or a Mastroianni looking all dapper. And herein lies the rub—these actors all appeared in black and white; their shirts could have been any light colour and would have come out more or less white.**
This reminds me, and I submit that this is no coincidence, of the argument erroneously advanced in favour of black suits for daywear (charcoals often appearing more-or-less black onscreen). And, of course, the stark simplicity of black and white has an obvious elegance—formal and semi-formal dress being the most obvious examples.***
But just as the black suit ought not to be used except in such contexts, I would submit that white shirts ought to be deployed with relative caution. The standard criticism of black suit as daywear—and indeed of black shoes—is that they lack subtlety, they drain colour from their surrounding garments rather than complimenting and amplifying them. I find that white shirts paired with suits in any shade of grey tend to do the same; making the grey look flatter and duller than it should.
With coloured ties or suits, the effect is the opposite, but no more desirable—the colour is amplified and exaggerated, which often produces a disharmonious effect, to my mind. And if one wears both a grey suit and a bright tie with a white shirt, the elements hardly move as a whole at all. And don’t even contemplate black shoes.
By contrast, I frequently wear bright ties with grey suits and pale blue shirts, and the look is much more agreeable. There are exceptions—with a neutral tie and a navy suit, white may be marginally better than blue. I will give three examples from my own wardrobe; black with white polka dots, black and silver-white houndtooth, and black silk knit.**** Another good example may be seen here.Though I must say that I dislike black-on-blue on principle, and were the principal colour in any of the above grey, I’d definitely prefer the light blue shirt.
Other exceptions spring to mind. One cannot wear a pale blue shirt with a pale blue tie (though they can be nice with a lighter blue stripe over white, likewise pink solids or stripes). Golden yellow can be ugly with blue, though I personally find it ugly in general. Likewise bright red. Darker reds and maroons may suit white a little better; I reiterate my point about blue stripes but advocate caution.
But I am beginning to digress. I spoke earlier of the ‘crisp white shirt’ obsession, and I would submit that the crispness, and not the whiteness, is really the attraction. To be sure, a gleaming, starched white shirt can be magnificent, particularly the black- and white-tie variants. For such irregular and genteel use, they are excellently suited. But for the day-to-day, I submit, they are much less helpful. Even with the best care, a crisp white shirt begins quickly to lose its crispness over its lifespan. Over the course of the day, it begins to crease, the cuffs quickly show dirt, perhaps the body will even reveal sweat. While many shirts will look great as they age, a white shirt will merely look old.
And it’s for all these reasons, to say nothing of the influence of those natty Neapolitans*****, that I am populating my cupboard with blue, blue and more blue.
*For the curious, the balance of the ten at present are: two ‘banker’ shirts with French cuffs and bodies in sand and white stripes, and lilac, brown, and white stripes, respectively; and a pink pencil stripe on white.
I am craving a very light blue jacquard with self French cuffs and a white poplin collar after seeing such a Brunello Cucinelli model, and will probably bespeak same as I have no desire to spend exorbitant Cucinelli prices on mediocre Cucinelli quality. And it has a breast pocket.
Similarly, the right RTW pink poplin continues to elude me for the time being.
**Indeed, it is notorious that ‘screen whites’ were typically created by soaking a white shirt in dilute tea or somesuch, which produced a better look on film.
***A less savoury manifestation might be the perception that the German SS were better uniformed in black and white, with flashes of red, than their Allied counterparts in more utilitarian olive drab.
****And all of these look better still with either of the abovementioned coloured banker shirts.
*****See, eg, here.
I hope the above was enjoyable and led to some reflection on your own shirting tastes. I appreciate that I labour some of my conclusions, and I know that the black suit metaphor is far from precise. To this end, I would be grateful if posters could refrain from trying too hard to pick apart the syntax of my writing and focused instead on expressing their views of the whole concept, and telling me a little about what you like and why.
Cheers!
-Bird
A provocative thesis, to be sure, and one that will bear some justification. The first hints of this heretical thought entered my mind while reading this post on Matt Fan’s excellent blog, wherein he remarks that:
“My new philosophy toward shirts is that they should all be blue. Barring the occasional need for a formal white shirt, some kind of blue shirt always works. In the past I have worn pink, green, yellow, etc. It's not that these other colors can't look good. Rather, I am striving for greater simplicity. Blue works well with my skin tone and my preference for earthy jacket colors. There is also something appealingly conservative about blue shirts: they are never frivolous, never flamboyant, and always somewhat masculine.
In the future I will rely on my ties, pocket squares, and socks to satisfy any whimsy for more color.”
Matt expressed the exact sentiments that had been lurking in my subconscious regarding shirt selection of late. Of my last five acquisitions, one was a blue and white striped banker, one a blue pencil stripe on white, and two were pale blue solids (one with mitred barrel cuff, one French cuff). I compiled a fortnightly rotation comprising my favourite ten shirts that I either presently own or am to acquire in the next fortnight: these four are joined by a pale blue fil-a-fil, and a rather unique specimen I own with blue and white horizontal stripes edged in pink.
More telling was the number of whites on the list: only one, in a fine herringbone weave to balance silk knits or grenadines. And even then, only because I don’t like coloured herringbone shirts.*
All of this in spite of the central prominence, the near fetishisation, accorded to the ‘crisp white shirt’ in menswear writing. We will come back to this juxtaposition of words in just a moment, but let us linger on the visceral reaction that the phrase provokes in the mind. It takes me back to the golden years of cinema, American, French or Italian, and conjures up a Grant or a Mastroianni looking all dapper. And herein lies the rub—these actors all appeared in black and white; their shirts could have been any light colour and would have come out more or less white.**
This reminds me, and I submit that this is no coincidence, of the argument erroneously advanced in favour of black suits for daywear (charcoals often appearing more-or-less black onscreen). And, of course, the stark simplicity of black and white has an obvious elegance—formal and semi-formal dress being the most obvious examples.***
But just as the black suit ought not to be used except in such contexts, I would submit that white shirts ought to be deployed with relative caution. The standard criticism of black suit as daywear—and indeed of black shoes—is that they lack subtlety, they drain colour from their surrounding garments rather than complimenting and amplifying them. I find that white shirts paired with suits in any shade of grey tend to do the same; making the grey look flatter and duller than it should.
With coloured ties or suits, the effect is the opposite, but no more desirable—the colour is amplified and exaggerated, which often produces a disharmonious effect, to my mind. And if one wears both a grey suit and a bright tie with a white shirt, the elements hardly move as a whole at all. And don’t even contemplate black shoes.
By contrast, I frequently wear bright ties with grey suits and pale blue shirts, and the look is much more agreeable. There are exceptions—with a neutral tie and a navy suit, white may be marginally better than blue. I will give three examples from my own wardrobe; black with white polka dots, black and silver-white houndtooth, and black silk knit.**** Another good example may be seen here.Though I must say that I dislike black-on-blue on principle, and were the principal colour in any of the above grey, I’d definitely prefer the light blue shirt.
Other exceptions spring to mind. One cannot wear a pale blue shirt with a pale blue tie (though they can be nice with a lighter blue stripe over white, likewise pink solids or stripes). Golden yellow can be ugly with blue, though I personally find it ugly in general. Likewise bright red. Darker reds and maroons may suit white a little better; I reiterate my point about blue stripes but advocate caution.
But I am beginning to digress. I spoke earlier of the ‘crisp white shirt’ obsession, and I would submit that the crispness, and not the whiteness, is really the attraction. To be sure, a gleaming, starched white shirt can be magnificent, particularly the black- and white-tie variants. For such irregular and genteel use, they are excellently suited. But for the day-to-day, I submit, they are much less helpful. Even with the best care, a crisp white shirt begins quickly to lose its crispness over its lifespan. Over the course of the day, it begins to crease, the cuffs quickly show dirt, perhaps the body will even reveal sweat. While many shirts will look great as they age, a white shirt will merely look old.
And it’s for all these reasons, to say nothing of the influence of those natty Neapolitans*****, that I am populating my cupboard with blue, blue and more blue.
*For the curious, the balance of the ten at present are: two ‘banker’ shirts with French cuffs and bodies in sand and white stripes, and lilac, brown, and white stripes, respectively; and a pink pencil stripe on white.
I am craving a very light blue jacquard with self French cuffs and a white poplin collar after seeing such a Brunello Cucinelli model, and will probably bespeak same as I have no desire to spend exorbitant Cucinelli prices on mediocre Cucinelli quality. And it has a breast pocket.
Similarly, the right RTW pink poplin continues to elude me for the time being.
**Indeed, it is notorious that ‘screen whites’ were typically created by soaking a white shirt in dilute tea or somesuch, which produced a better look on film.
***A less savoury manifestation might be the perception that the German SS were better uniformed in black and white, with flashes of red, than their Allied counterparts in more utilitarian olive drab.
****And all of these look better still with either of the abovementioned coloured banker shirts.
*****See, eg, here.
I hope the above was enjoyable and led to some reflection on your own shirting tastes. I appreciate that I labour some of my conclusions, and I know that the black suit metaphor is far from precise. To this end, I would be grateful if posters could refrain from trying too hard to pick apart the syntax of my writing and focused instead on expressing their views of the whole concept, and telling me a little about what you like and why.
Cheers!
-Bird
