Gentlemen wear jackets

I used to be like many of you. I often wore denim and sweat-shirts. I used to have tee-shirts plastered with juvenile cartoons or corporate slogans. I used to wear baseball caps and, to my eternal shame, I often even wore them indoors! But gradually I grew to realize that if I wanted others to hold me in the same irrationally high esteem with which I hold myself that I would need to dress the part. And so I threw out my baseball caps, bought some woolen trousers, grew a mighty moustache, started smoking a pipe, and most importantly, obtained a fine Harris tweed jacket for casual day-to-day wear.

Great man William Faulkner relaxes at home with a cool flavourful smoke, a comfortable tweed jacket, and a startling moustache.

The jacket or sport coat is absolutely fundamental to any gentleman's wardrobe. It gives a man an air of dignity and, if properly fitted, flatters the figure. It protects against the elements and typically has several useful pockets where the gentleman may carry his bill-fold, pipe, pipe tobacco, and snacks. Particularly useful is a discreet interior pocket in the jacket lining where one may secret one's hip flask when unfortunate enough to be in the company of the narrow-minded busybody or clucking moralist.

A proper jacket should be of a dark, neutral colour; lighter colours may be worn during the warm summer months, but I wouldn't go any swishier than a desert ecru or possibly a tasteful slate grey. Flashy colours are strictly for parade grand marshals or the clownish talking heads of sporting event commentary. Personally I have a navy blazer and a rust-brown tweed jacket with another brown corduroy sport coat on order. I may also ask my tailor to fit me for a MacDonald of Clan Ranald tartan jacket for hot dates. Any broadly similar selection of jackets would, of course, be sufficient for most sartorial requirements.

For God's sake resist the urge to wear suits. Unless you are forced to deal with boorish stuffed shirts on Wall Street then suits are for weddings and funerals and nothing else. Formal occasions require a proper dinner jacket and black tie, not a suit. For all other occasions free thinkers and libertines like myself prefer the comfort, dignity, and flexibility afforded by the sport coat over the constrictive uniform of pale-faced patent attorneys and robotic corporate bean counters.

That is all.