Pluff Mud Chronicles: Threads we wear, share and dare to bare

cdavis884
5 days ago
10 min read

By Prioleau Alexander and Charles W. Waring III

Prioleau

When I think of proper Charleston attire, I think of our annual parade on Carolina Day — a stream of 300 men in seersucker suits, all wearing white or tan bucks. But, that’s my view as an adult … things have evolved throughout the years. Not for you, of course. I have a hazy memory of you resplendent in an Italian wool Graziani suit with brown cleats during football practice at East Bay Playground.

As wee lads, of course, the proper attire was the proverbial sailor suit. I remember deep stabs of jealousy when my older brother Tom got old enough to wear long pants. Funny how at age six, all I wanted in life was to go places wearing long pants. At 62, all I want in life is to go places where I can wear shorts.

At Charleston Day, sometime around the sixth grade, the official uniform became Levi’s cords, and horizontally-striped, short-sleeved rugby shirts. The Levi’s tag on the back pocket was a huge deal because of course it was a huge deal. I remember as an eight grader the kids in seventh grade began sneaking up and tearing the tags off the back of their classmates Levi’s — something akin to American Indians “counting coup” in battle.

It was agreed among us “seniors” to stay away from this heinous act — and the kids below us were warned that tag tearing would result in hyper-violence.

Looking back at my photos from Porter-Gaud — when we were required to wear a coat and tie because we weren’t savages — I’m reminded that our form of “protest” wasn’t looting, arson and spitting on cops. It was merely wearing the stupidest attire possible. Most of my photos at school show a 98-pound kid wearing something along the lines of a checked shirt, a checked tie and a checked sport coat — what the ladies would call a “a Glamour don’t.”

Following the letter of the law while mocking the spirit of the law brought great joy to the boys in my class. As I recall, you did not participate in this foolishness. I have hazy memories of one faculty member asking you what he should wear for his upcoming graduation address to Harvard Law School.

Some radical fashion changes occurred about tenth grade. First, was the explosion of madras — pants, shirts, jackets and ties. For the girls, it became impossible to own too much Lilly Pulitzer. I think this trend made the P-G faculty happy, because we considered wearing madras too sacred to use as a form of protest. We all looked like the couple on the cover of the Preppy Handbook.

Another trend came along that truly mystified our parents: If the weather was warm and you were going out casual, you wore baggy “plastic” shorts, with your boxer underwear hanging two inches below where the shorts ended.

As soon as the plastic pants and boxers trend emerged, there was a dash to find more creatively-designed and colorful boxers, and in short order the mission was accomplished. That particular look followed us through college.

I don’t think you ever fell into that trend. I have a hazy memory of you sailing in the Rockville Regatta wearing the exact same attire favored by Jonathan Quayle Higgins III in the TV show Magnum, PI.

Then we arrived in the Big Hair 80s … where I dodged a major bullet. Given the chance, I’d have been rocking a haircut to rival Jon Bon Jovi — and bumped the top of my quaff passing through a doorway. None of my friends fell for this, but I know I would’ve. However, for me the 80s were spent either as a ROTC Nazi, or active-duty military … so while men from sea to shining sea are haunted by photos their 80s hairdo, I’ve got a Sgt. Carter haircut. Fortunately, the same held true for my attire. Everyone wore the same thing: Levi’s or khakis and a button down.

Everyone except you, of course. I have a hazy memory of you wearing a silk smoking jacket at Big John’s.

At age 18, all of us acquired our first tux, because girls made their debut at that tender age — and within a few years friends started getting married. God bless the tux — 62 years, and it’s never changed or been updated. It would be fun to know how many tuxes the average Charleston lad has been through before qualifying for Social Security. How often a new tux is needed is determined by one’s waistline expansion, or when the sleeves fall off — whichever comes first.

When I returned to the civilian world and went to work for my father’s ad agency, fashion became easy. As I recall, I wore khakis, a button-down, a tie, a blue blazer and brown loafers every day for seven years. It certainly made getting dressed in the morning easy.

This, of course, has never been your style. I have a hazy memory for swinging by your house on Mercury business one morning at 8 a.m. Although you were working from your home office that day, you met me at the door wearing an Irish brown herringbone tweed suit, complete with a Sewanee motif tie and matching pocket square.

When it became legal to carry a concealed weapon, I made a shift to wearing Hawaiian shirts. They are designed to be worn untucked and baggy enough to conceal a cannon. I still wear them often. If you see me wearing one, you may rest assured I’m armed.

One of the lesser-known forms of proper Charleston attire is hunting clothes. Dove hunting demands the hunter wear all khaki — but never new. It’s a pain when you wear out your dove hunting shirt or trousers, because you’ve got to include the piece in every load of laundry for a year, wearing it out until it’s close to white. Yes, the doves see the whitish clothing far more easily, but such is the nature of things. On a dove hunt, new khaki is almost as bad as wearing camouflage.

Personally, I wear snake boots to take out the trash April through November, so that’s part of my dove hunting attire — but it’s optional. The one required accessory is a dove stool, but again, never new. It’s best to leave a new dove stool out in the weather for a year, then back over it with a few times with your truck.

Deer hunting attire also has a certain look, although the debate is bitter regarding which is the correct look. Some men dress like a military sniper on a long-range stalk behind enemy lines, but the proper way is the way you and I choose: The casual “I’m too experienced to need all that fancy camo gear” look. Middleton Hunting Club, of course, is in a league of its own, but I’ll leave that to you to cover.

As I enter my dotage, my closet is pretty simple: A seersucker suit, which we agree CAN be worn before Memorial Day and after Labor Day. A dozen button down shirts and solid ties. A few sport coats and nice trousers to wear to visitations, or when Heidi makes me. A black suit to wear to funerals. A tux and formal Scottish attire.

Everything else falls into a category I’m not sure has a name, but Heidi calls it “You’re not going out dressed like that, are you?”

Charles

I always liked how adults laughed and lived and wanted to be among them and listen to their stories; I guess that may explain why I intended to model my dress after all those Carolina characters I knew well. My father was a dapper chap on the whole and, while sporting more casual attire, he looked like “Higgins” from Magnum P.I. ; he picked up that nickname from Lucas Drake, and it stuck. Did I look like Higgy at Rockville? It is entirely possible, but no photographic evidence exists from those trips. (Thank the Good Lord for that.) I went to a high school and college where coats and ties were part of the tradition, and then went to work on Capitol Hill where suits were essential, and a jacket and tie were a better fit for Friday and Monday when the boss was usually back in the district.

Prioleau, you referenced a silk smoking jacket, and I am sorry to report that I never had one. However, I picked up a red velvet smoking jacket at the erstwhile Granny’s Goodies on King Street in the mid 1980s and had fun sporting it to a few parties before I left it in a home closet when I went off to work in Washington. Dastardly deed time: One sister pitched it when she started stuffing her out-of-fashion Laura Ashley dresses into storage, taking over my closet. The horrible crime was never confirmed. Since I only paid $5.00 for the threads, I can laugh about it, especially since a photo of me in “full fig” still exists.

On the best level of getting outfitted, I was always keen to visit Jack Krawcheck’s because it was a happy place, and I did a lot of growing upon in the company of the Holy City’s finest citizens. Jack Krawcheck and his son Saul told me about the grandfather I never knew. When I stepped up on the millstone for fitting a suit, I heard how I was the third generation to stand there to be fitted, and that is something you don’t forget. Saul and I became friends, and he talked about sailing and quail hunting; he was amazed by what life had to offer as he counted his blessings.

He was amused that his grandsons were my “playground children” when I worked at the Hazel Parker Playground. Then, he would explain that my father, a couple of years younger, was a private in his platoon at Porter Military Academy. Much later when I was working for then-Congressman Ravenel, I would pop by, and Saul would ask me to tell him again how my father looked in London in the three-piece suit he made and measured for him. He promised Dad that he would “look more British than the British,” and I laughed with Saul about that until he went to his great reward.

Along the way and when Saul was not in the store, I got to know Joel Hodges and Saul’s brother-in-law Maurice “Nub” Nussbaum. Before I knew the art of stand-up comedy, I got my fill from these two gents. I knew that I could not have a quick trip to Jack Krawcheck’s and planned accordingly and expectantly and never left disappointed. My only sadness was hearing the store would close, but Grady Ervin shadows their traditions in the best way. It is heartwarming that Chip Ervin and his team put on the dapper aura with little effort.

The author and Mrs. Dubya at a social event on the banks of the Ashley River and daring to show some color.IMAGE PROVIDED

I have written about other stores, but I don’t think I ever mentioned John Edwin “Topper” Schachte III at M. Dumas and Sons. He defined cool and knew exactly what you should have and the manner in which it should fit. Before Luden’s began getting hunting clothes, I was a regular at Dumas for new trousers and a hunting license. As I knew the Butler family well, I migrated to their emporium on the waterfront and to its subsequent lease in the old Channel Five building.

Speaking of sporting threads, I do appreciate the trousers that come out of Kevin’s of Thomasville, Georgia. Classic quail attire works for other hunting, and I like the fit and look. The modern twist is that Kevin’s puts some “stretch” fabric that helps you avoid splits when you hike your leg over a fence. “Wretch-tested” wear would not help them as a slogan, but I can promise they get my endorsement; their trousers also last.

As for lasting, I think seersucker does a rotten job of holding up to wear and the “summer sweats” stain it in the worst way. Nonetheless, I am still a fan of this fabric and wear it regularly. The right blue blazers are obviously other essentials, but one must also find the right khakis that suit. Speaking of summer, Murray’s has authentic Nantucket reds, and you will want to enjoy that splash of color. I think the fraternity boys are in good stead with Vineyard Vines; I would imagine that guys older than 45 are less likely to embrace that look, but I still sport it now and then.

The “lifebelt” is a new clothing item that I find rather cool. Smathers and Branson gives ladies the perfect opportunity for a gift for the guy who seemingly has everything. You choose the logos that pertain to you and craft the order thereof online. Then, they ship it to you. It is a very clever gift item. If your waist is a little better than average, you can tell more stories. Put a point on the board for the hefty lads.

Online custom deals are a new trend, and I would advise strongly against them. If the production is out of India, you will probably stand a better chance of getting what you ordered, but you really should pay a little more and try the House of Bruar for your tweeds, if you cannot find them locally.

For other specialty outdoor items, try Schnee’s of Bozeman, Montana. Duck Camp makes some pretty fine hunting trousers and jackets. L.L. Bean still has the Maine Hunting Shoe and their outstanding field coats. In addition to Schnee’s, Filson makes shirts where your smart phone will fit; Bean has not figured out that issue. Orvis was once a go-to place for elegant outdoor threads, but they closed the door on their nice tweed coats a few years ago.

Nonetheless, I think it is always best to give local stores the first option, and Grady Ervin presents many fine choices these days, including high-end sporting threads. As for hunting gear, Rivers and Glen is an excellent local outfitter. As for specialty belts and gear, the Southern Trapper is a great option. You will also enjoy the belts and buckles from the Lowcountry’s HookNHide, which is also local and super cool. Support our local outfitters and make friends along the way; Saul Krawcheck would insist upon it being the right path.

If we had space, we’d tell more, but there will be more space and more stories in the Carolina Digital Daily, available only by subscription by going to our website. The wise participants will receive the feature “Crab Pot” on at least two weekend editions each month, where the liveliest parts of the “Pluff Mud” bubble over to tantalize all. To make sure you don’t miss out on all the daily action in S.C., WNC and greater Wilmington, subscribe today to the Carolina Digital Daily by visiting www.charlestonmercury.com/shop.