TUXEDO
Saying tuxedo to indicate evening wear is acceptable and founded on a historical event. The story goes that Pierre Lorillard, the son of a man bearing the same name, living in Tuxedo, New York, up-river from the city, having developed his land into an oasis for the rich now known as Tuxedo Park, grew tired of dressing for dinner. Toward the end of a century gone by, say about 1892, he sent a set of tails to a tailor in New York, instructing him to shorten the coat, producing in that act evening wear less formal than the full fish and soup that he, Lorillard, and many others, were required to wear to dinner. One doesn’t hear “fish and soup” anymore, but in its day the expression meant evening wear.
Either Lorillard or some other worthy finished the job of decreasing formality by inventing the soft shirt and black tie in place of the boiled shirtfront and white tie. I bought my first tuxedo in 1953, and returned the one I had been wearing to my stepfather who had used his principally while singing in the glee club at Kenyon College, where he graduated in 1932. It has always stayed in my mind that I bought my tuxedo on the last year of Stalin’s life. The association is not far-fetched. The Communists of Russia never wore evening clothes, and perhaps they do not to this day. They appear at state dinners in blue suits and dark neckties. It always seemed curious to me that the leaders of the Evil Empire would keep servants, limousines, and houses in the country, eat caviar, and drink vodka, but forsake the tuxedo. Men look their best in one.
Many will recall that President Truman, late in his second term, about 1950, introduced the black tie with design, a distinct break with tradition. The president said that he was tired of the plain black tie and wanted to liven it up. Seven years went by before I accommodated this change in fashion by buying a “Truman” tie, which continues to share space on my tie rack with the original version. As mentioned, Stalin had died to be superseded by Malenkov, who, in turn was pushed out of office by Bulganin and Khrushchev. B & K, as they were called, ruled in tandem until K demanded and obtained B’s resignation, or perhaps, more likely, pushed him out. For the record, I did not wear the “Truman” tie, perhaps I should call it my “Bulganin” tie, for the first thirty years that I have owned it, sensing always that the black tie was the classier choice. Since the late 1980s, however, I wear the ties alternately and never fail to attract attention when sporting the “Truman” tie. I explain that I wear the tie in honor of that great president, and to the younger crowd I have to say that we in the old guard remember him for several courageous acts in foreign affairs, for cussing out the critic of his daughter’s singing and for introducing the black tie with design. As I examine the tie, which I am doing now, I see that the design is abstract and Paisley, a mixture of Jackson Pollock and Laura Ashley, both at once. The label tells me that I bought it at Marty Sullivan’s in Marion, Massachusetts, which fact I had forgotten.
Khrushchev’s every-day trousers were the subjects of sartorial comments by most everyone. The legs at the bottom were so wide that they covered his shoes entirely. One day, when in my tuxedo, I looked down the legs and noticed that there were only shoe tips showing. I resembled Khrushchev! The tailor performed magic and made the pant legs look like other1960s American pants. I have Khrushchev to thank for suggesting this transformation which might never have taken place, allowing me to continue to wear my tuxedo with confidence.
Khrushchev, in his turn, was pushed out by Brezhnev. Details fail one, but K fell victim of his agricultural policy which produced too much of some commodities and not enough of others. As an expert on agriculture going back to the Stalin era, K could not take the heat and was forced to go. I had had the trousers cleaned and pressed as part of the alteration. I recall having the entire suit cleaned during the Brezhnev era, say in the late 1960s. When it returned from the cleaner, I slipped it into a strong, blue plastic bag with Brooks Brothers written on it, where it has hung ever since, except when in use. The bag arrived in my life with the purchase of a pin-striped gray suit, which had to be replaced eventually -- the suit, that is. The bag lives on after three trips to Europe, two by sea and one by air. Besides the cleaning, not much happened to the tuxedo during the Brezhnev era. In fact, with the exception that Brezhnev had a not-bad-looking daughter who misbehaved from time to time making him appear to be an ineffective father, not much happened in the USSR in the Brezhnev era. One cannot forget, though, that President Nixon gave Chairman Brezhnev a Chevrolet convertible, perhaps in his second term. That would be Nixon’s second term. Most dictators get but one term. Brezhnev was in office from 1964 until 1982, or thereabouts, and President Nixon from 1969 to 1974, so they had plenty of time to exchange gifts. This was not a casual gift. Brezhnev was a car buff, perhaps having commandeered several limousines.
It’s not fair to say that nothing at all happened during the Brezhnev era. In fact, I doubled my stock of cummerbunds. This is a word from the Hindi language meaning waistband. The dictionary says that it replaces the vest in formal attire. Pierre Lorillard could not have made this contribution as well as chopping off tails. Revolutions in any aspect of human behavior require time and contributions from many. I recall that a brother-in-law gave me this second cummerbund. It is made of a racy plaid, mostly red. I have worn it several times, but always to dances where no one would be offended. A cummerbund has pleats and one can wear it with the pleat-openings up or down. This relative and I fell into conversation about how to wear the pleats. He said that he always wore them up so that the cummerbund would catch the crumbs off the dinner table. Having nothing else to go by, I have followed this advice ever since. The relative in question is identified exactly by the label in the cummerbund: Robt. F. Ryan Ltd., Rochester N.Y.
Brezhnev died in office and was succeeded by Chernenko. I think I have that right. The talk at the time was that the Politburo could not settle on a leader and therefore punted, as we say, by selecting a man deathly ill. Chernenko did not disappoint the Politburo and died in office a year later. This event brought to my attention that not only are living things mortal, but inanimate objects are also. Or, said differently, how much more life was left in my tuxedo? Very soon it would be thirty years old. The trouser legs were acceptable but the waist would have to be let out soon. I remember clearly that it was during the one year of Chernenko that I realized there was no need to wear suspenders any more. Also that during the few years of Andropov, who came after Chernenko, I lived in hope that suspenders would be needed again because many years of the good life made them unnecessary. I found them in my closet and threw then away in the first years of Yeltsin. I remember nothing about Chernenko, the man, but I recall clearly that Andropov came out of the ranks of the KGB and the press led us to believe that there would be increased spying. Fortunately for our state secrets he died in 1985, to be replaced by Gorbachev.