A man should wear nothing to bed—what better place for disclosure? When he’s in streets a man should wear composure, as a tailored shirt fits close to the skin. Nobody admires agitation in another fellow. Assurance assures.
A man should wear dignity, like a worsted suit, sound of seam and appropriate for all occasions: grave doubts, triumphs, mean mistakes. Show respect, Mister, your human station is a high one, and a gift.
A man should wear kindness as proof against inclemency. Every man is accountable to men—to women!—wherefore let us celebrate public displays of goodwill: help grandmother across the street; give away your umbrella in a drench.
A man should wear knowledge, woven on a loom of action, but wear it lightly as summer linen, not lord it over others: everyone can’t know what you know.
A man should wear a watch: life is urgent. “In all our deeds, the proper value and respect for time determines success and failure,” said Malcolm X, as distinguished a man as any. He had no patience for those who didn’t wear watches, “…for this type is not time-conscious.” In other words, pay attention to the transit of our sun.
Cock-a-doodle-doo—the rooster crows in his own plume and flash, a prick of pique and strut. What is the man who doesn’t wear pique and strut? A man.
—Alex Heminway [via Mister Mort]