Why is green such a no-no?

[JDelage]

Hello,

I am curious whether people here could comment on why green is (or seems to be to me) such a no-no for somewhat official (i.e., business) attires. It would seem that it is largely absent from the range of business suits, shirts, or tie. Is there any specific reason why that is?

I do like green and I'd love to be able to wear it more often...

Thanks,

JD

[goddenrich]

Is it possibly because the colours that one wears reflects the environment one is in so in cities blue and grey reflect the sky and pavement while in the country greens and browns reflect the vegetation? So unless you conduct your business in the middle of a field green is not appropriate for "official" attire.

[yialabis]

Green is associated with country and shooting clothes and accessories in the UK. I wouldn't wear a green suit in the middle of Athens. If I did I would probably look like one of the missing things of the centre ...a plant! That's me though..!! If u like it wear it.


kind regards
Vassilis

[pvpatty]

I wouldn't wear a darker or more verdant green with business attire (as stated above, this is more rustic), but I do have a tie with a bright/lime green background and floral motifs in yellow, pink and red. I like wearing this with a blue blazer, and I suppose that it would work with a navy suit, in the springtime, when it adds a seasonal change of pace. That being said, it is a little whimsical and would not be suited to more sober occasions.

[couch]

I concur with the responses above, but would say that if you really like greens, this could be calibrated a little. The main point is that the color of business dress should not call attention to itself. So long as you observe this, occupational, seasonal, and regional customs may allow some slight flexiblity.

In the late '80s I had a RL suit (mediocre cut and make but) of a wonderful cloth that was an open but hard-finished basketweave of navy, rust, khaki, and olive yarns. The overall effect was sort of a sort of coarse heathered-olive sharkskin. Some version of the dull olive suit is a traditional summer staple (sometimes in cotton) from mid-Atlantic to Southern U.S. cities. I probably wouldn't wear it in the most dressy business meetings, but it was perfect in art museums and other cultural institutions in humid Philadelpia summers.

Probably this would fall afoul of the same English customs that enjoin "no brown in town" but as recently as the late '80s there was an entire stratum of Philadelphia (and maybe other mid-Atlantic and Southern cities) that acted as though from Memorial Day to Labor Day they weren't really in residence "in town." They dressed accordingly, as though they had just popped in to do a bit of business during the week. The Episcopal church I attended at that time was virtually empty on summer Sundays, because, as the rector informed me when I first moved to the parish, "everybody's in Maine." So you saw lots of tan and olive poplin and blue- or grey-striped seersucker suits, plenty of crumpled panamas, and even a boater or two.

I can testify that many of the big grey Wissahickon schist houses inhabited by these stalwarts had only one or two window air conditioners, if any. At the time my late wife and I were renting a cottage, and our 93-year-old landlady still maintained an award-winning three-acre garden herself. To her frustration, she had been forced to retire from riding in her late 70s when a mount fell on her and crushed her forearm and elbow. The surgeons at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania had reconstructed the arm with a drawerful of stainless steel hardware, and she used to display the result delightedly to compliment their work. She had outlived three husbands, the first of whom she had married in St. Margaret's Westminster and the last of whom was a master at Hill School. She planned her own funeral in great detail and before she died she arranged to sell her entire Chestnut Hill property en bloc with an easement given to the local watershed conservancy and a legally ironclad (you've hear the phrase "Philadelphia lawyer"?) stipulation that the property could not be subdivided for development. I think of her as the great example of Guille's motto "al mal tiempo, buena cara."

The above digression is what happens when you entertain the thought of green suits in town. That's the real reason for the prohibition.

Cheers!

[JDelage]

Thanks for the disgression. That lady must have been quite the woman indeed.

[couch]

Yes, she was. Well into her eighties she sat on the board of Penn's renowned Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, and delighted in scrambling over pyramids in the Yucatan at the head of tour groups of museum donors. When my wife and I married, she gave us a set of linen cutwork placemats she had acquired in the Russian Caucasus in the 1930s. Now that both women are gone, they are among my most prized possessions.

[storeynicholas]

A heart-warming recollection vividly told, couch!
NJS

[Costi]

The above digression is what happens when you entertain the thought of green suits in town. That's the real reason for the prohibition.

I like the idea!

[storeynicholas]

The above digression is what happens when you entertain the thought of green suits in town. That's the real reason for the prohibition.

I like the idea!

But it is so pleasantly diverting that, maybe, green suits should become the new navy blue - the next thing might be a 16 oz smokey, dark, olive green flannel with a smudged primrose yellow chalkstripe for the Cloth Club.
NJS

[couch]

NJS, that could be inspired---something almost as much charcoal as olive, maybe with the smudged chalk stripe or windowpane in a creamy primrose so delicate as to only be distinguishable as yellow in good light at close range, just as the green would only show its highlights in strong light. Hmmm. Not just for summer anymore?

[storeynicholas]

NJS, that could be inspired---something almost as much charcoal as olive, maybe with the smudged chalk stripe or windowpane in a creamy primrose so delicate as to only be distinguishable as yellow in good light at close range, just as the green would only show its highlights in strong light. Hmmm. Not just for summer anymore?

Hee hee! it started as a joke but, afterwards, I too thought about it as a dark green-tinged grey - just as you describe and either as a creamy yellow chalkstripe or windowpane occurred to me too. I wish that I were more adroit with all the computer's functions because I am sure that there are means of mocking up such a pattern on a drawing board. The challenge would be avoiding Robin Hood green and banana yellow - but it might actually work.
NJS

[couch]

I suspect alden would assert, no doubt correctly, that to achieve the subtlety of effect you have evoked, a computer rendering would not be much help. All the magic would be in the dyeing, spinning, weaving and finishing--thus the tests and samples he goes through with the producers of the LL cloths. I'll bet the descriptions you've given would be an adequate starting point, apart maybe from some discussion on the spacing of stripes or size of windowpane, and even that would end up being influenced by the actual shades and contrasts of the yarns and finishing used. I'd be happy to be corrected, however. I'm also wondering whether this wouldn't work as a sold flannel, if the color were right.

[storeynicholas]

I am sure that is right about the conjuring of the colour but there must be a starting place for these things and I have to say that I do not know what it is - maybe there is some language which cloth manufacturers use akin to descriptions of wine-tasting (having recourse to the tastes of fruits and roots to evoke the scents and taste). I also agree that the shade of grey could also probably work as a solid. I am not sure whether there is anything like this on the market already.
NJS

[RWS]

Perhaps designers begin with a computer program which employs "Pantone" or a similar coloring system.