I stand corrected, sorta

Boo.

I have a lot of fashion-inclined friends. Given that I despise fashion myself, this state of affairs is a little strange. Maybe it's because I have a lot of female friends, or because I travel in circles where aesthetics are a big deal. Maybe it's both.

Since I like to antagonize those closest to me, I've found myself in a lot of arguments about the value of fashion as an art. Usually these discussions go something like this:

Me: I hate it when people talk about fashion as though it's some sort of high-art form. It's just clothing!
Friend/relative: Well, fashion has produced countless beautiful objects, and the way it plays with the human body's shape is definitely an art form. It's also a method of communication; the clothes we wear signify certain facts about our—
Me: NO FASHION IS STUPID SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

And really, I haven't changed my mind. Most fashion is pretty dumb, and while it definitely involves some artistic elements, it doesn't deserve to be mentioned alongside the traditional 'fine' arts, literature, music, and so on.

Clothing really is an effective means of communication, though. Ordinarily I'm a dedicated T-shirt and jeans guy. But yesterday I had a job interview, so I dressed myself to the nines—in my case, a button-down shirt, khakis and non-sneaker shoes qualify as "the nines."

Boo!

My outfit was code. It said, "I am a respectable, reliable person, but not a big-shot. I have put some effort into making myself look presentable. I have the resources to purchase at least $100 worth of clothing, and I'm aware enough of social graces to keep that clothing clean and pressed. I am also aware that some situations require a higher level of decorum (in this case, 'professional' situations), and that casual street clothes are not necessarily appropriate for such situations."

As you might expect, I despise these standards. If the world was my fiefdom, you could show up for your own arraignment hearing wearing a wifebeater, a plaid bathrobe and T-Rex slippers, and nobody would bat an eyelash. Also, "Spanish Castle Magic" would be the national anthem of every country and cops would be armed with silly-string shooters.

But in spite of my preferences, I engage in this kind of thinking all the time. When I was going to and from my interview, I behaved differently (or at least I felt like I did). I stood up straighter. I cursed less often. I looked people in the eye more frequently. And people treated me differently, too. Clerks behind counters were quicker to address me. People in the subway were slower to get out of my way. (The code works two ways, after all—in business-casual attire, I look more reliable, but also less threatening.)

And even when I'm not dressed up, I'm sending messages with my clothes. My jeans and ratty grey sneakers tell people that I don't spend much time on sartorial splendor. My lack of hair tells people that I have better things to think about than styling my hair, or more accurately, that I'm not capable of making informed decisions about such matters. My metal band shirts tell people that I listen to metal and want them to know that I do, too. And so on. You can't really opt out of broadcasting some of your personal features via your attire.

Fashion is still dumb, though.

BOOOOOOOOOO!