Although in the dress of man there are fewer possibilities of caricature than in that of woman, yet, “the masterpieces of creation” frequently exaggerate in a laughable and sometimes a pitiable way, certain physical characteristics by an injudicious choice of clothes.

As the fashion in hair-dressing does not grant man the privilege of enhancing his facial attractions; nor of obscuring his defects by a becomingly arranged coiffure; and, as the modes in neck-gear are such that he cannot modify the blemishes of a defective complexion by encircling his athletic or scrawny throat with airy tulle, or dainty lace, that arch-idealizer of pasty-looking faces; and as he has forsworn soft, trailing garments that conceal unclassic curves and uninspiring lines of nether limbs, it behooves him to be more exactingly particular even than woman in the selection of his wearing apparel.

Far be it from me, however, to remind man of his many limitations in dress. That he can never know the rapture of donning a becoming spring bonnet, nor the pleasure of possessing “real lace” things, nor the sensuous charm of being enwrapped in caressing furs, or sleazy, silken garments as exquisite in color and texture as beautiful, fresh flowers, only delicate consideration for his feelings constrains me from expatiating upon at length.

I would rather be able to remind him that he can make his limitations his advantages, than reveal to him what he misses in not being a woman.

To treat of this important subject adequately and convincingly, one would require the masterly discernment of a skillful and accomplished tailor, the experienced knowledge of a well-dressed man, and the alertly critical perception of a loving woman who, even in the matter of clothes, wishes the dearest of men to her, to do full justice to himself and her ideal of him on all occasions.

Although certain of the foregoing qualifications must needs be lacking, nevertheless this timorous pen, with more trepidation than courage it must be confessed, begs to call attention to a few obvious details in masculine attire that caricature, more or less, peculiarities in the forms and features of men.

To be sure, in the matter of head-gear man is not conspicuously at the mercy of burlesquing ribbons, flowers, and feathers, and he has fewer opportunities than women to make himself ridiculous, yet a few suggestions regarding certain shapes of head-gear for certain types of faces, applicable to women are equally applicable to him.

The same rule that applies to the women of the wedge-shaped type of face applies to the man of the wedge-shaped type, as may be seen in sketches Nos. 75 and 76. It is obvious that the youth detracts from the manliness of his face and emphasizes the pointed appearance of his countenance by wearing a hat with a broad brim projecting over his ears. This style of hat appears more frequently in straw than in any other texture, but the effect of a wide, projecting rim is the same in any material. Plain, improves the appearance of the long, slim-faced man. An alpine hat would not be unbecoming to him, the high oval of the crown forming a balance for the lower part of the face.

The man with a pugilistic chin should endeavor to select a hat that will not make his heavy jaw as prominent.

The high crown and wide, gracefully rolling brim counter-balance the weight and prominence of the jaw.

Apropos of the minor details of man’s garments, the button as a feature of clothes has never been fully done justice to. It is a sustaining thing we know, something we can hang to, fasten to, and even tie to. That properly placed buttons contribute to our mental poise and therefore to our physical repose, is hinted in that absurdly engaging story, anent the smart boy who was the envy of his spelling-class, because he always stood first. You remember, no doubt, that an envious but keen-eyed classmate observed that the smart speller worked off his nervous apprehensiveness by twirling the top button of his coat as he correctly spelled word after word, day in and day out; and how the keen-eyed one played the part of a stealthy villain and surreptitiously cut the button off the coat. And do you remember the dramatic ending? How the smart one on the fatal day sought to “press the button” and finding it gone, lost his wits completely and failed ignominiously? Many of us when we have lost a sustaining button, have we not felt as ridiculously helpless and wit-benumbed as the smart speller?

We all sub-consciously acknowledge our dependence upon buttons, but not many of us, evidently, have observed that even buttons have a certain possibility of caricature in them; and that they may add to, or detract from, the appearance of manly forms. The consideration of properly placed buttons may seem trivial to you, you may discern that a thin man may apparently increase his breadth and add a certain manly touch to his figure, by changing the buttons at the waist-line of his coat. The buttons placed so near together, really make his toothpick proportions too obvious. His back is made to look broader by placing the buttons wider apart, and changing the cut of his coat-tail.

That the fat man may also present a more attractive back to his enemies by considering the placing of his buttons. The buttons decorating are placed so far apart that they increase in an ungainly way the breadth of the back at the waist-line. If they are placed nearer together, and the seams graduated to meet them, they give the illusion of better and more desirable proportions.

That the thin man may also present a more imposing and broader front to the world. The contracted look of the coat is somewhat due to the buttons of his double-breasted coat being placed too closely together. The slender man who wishes to give the impression of being broad-chested may have the buttons on his coat placed a little farther apart than fashion may allow. The proportions may be easily preserved by a careful adjustment of the shoulder-seams and the seams under the arms.

The waist-line is not so much “a danger line” to man as to woman, yet man should not wholly ignore his equator. If he is long-waisted he can apparently balance his proportions by having his skirt shortened, and his waist-line raised the merest bit. If he is too short-waisted he can lengthen his skirt and lower his waist-line. In the one he escapes appearing too long and lanky in body, and in the other he obscures a lack of becoming inches that tends to give him a dumpy appearance.

If you study your fellow-men you will observe that few are really perfectly proportioned. One man will have the body of a viking on the legs of a dwarf, or one will have the legs of an Apollo supporting the short body of a pigmy. The man who has a kingly body, too broad in proportion to his legs, should endeavor to modify his physical defect by the careful selection of his coats. He should have his coats cut to give him as much length of leg as possible. A skilful tailor will know just what subtle changes and adjustments to make. The improvement in appearance and gain in height is pictured in sketch 88. The coat being shorter and the waist of the trousers being raised a trifle, the man’s limbs seem longer, which is an improvement. Long lines tend to give elegance and grace in bearing. Another thing for the too robust type of man to consider is the style of his trousers. Such brazen plaids only make him appear offensively aggressive in size. Long, fine lines, such as shown in N, give an impression of length and apparently lessen the width.

Too long lines, however, are almost as undesirable as too short ones. Over-tall, thin men sometimes make themselves look like telegraph poles or flagstaffs by wearing short coats that expose in a graceless way the whole length of their limbs. They suggest cranes and other fowl that give the impression of being “all legs.”

When the legs are proportioned more like a stick of macaroni or a lead pencil than the shapely limbs of an Adonis, they appear exceedingly funny when surmounted by a short coat. A famous general in the Civil War did not despise cotton as a fortification to protect him from the onslaught of the enemy. The over-tall, thin man, who is not unsuggestive of a picket, should not be ashamed to fortify himself with cotton or any other sort of padding that intelligent tailors keep in stock. He should build his shoulders up a bit and be generally, but most carefully and artistically, enlarged. His coat should be lengthened, as in sketch go, to cut off just as much of the longness of limb as can possibly be allowed without destroying artistic proportions. The very tall, thin man who unthinkingly wears a very short coat should be brave and never turn his back to his enemy.

If he wears black and white check trousers and a short blue coat, he should travel with a screen. A man in just such a rig attracted no end of comment in a fashionable hotel. The caricaturing effect of his trousers and coat were unspeakably comical. The wearer had a face as grave as an undertaker’s and the air of a serious-minded college professor; but he had the nondescript look of a scarecrow composed of whatever available garments could be obtained from the cast-off wardrobe of summer boarders in a farmhouse.

Coats assuredly have the power of making cartoons living, jocular cartoons of their wearers. It would hardly seem necessary to call attention to the fact that a man of huge dimensions should not wear a short coat, yet his type is too frequently seen attired in this style. A man so dressed certainly seems the living exemplification of the definition of a jug, namely, “a vessel usually with a swelling belly, narrow mouth, and a handle, for holding liquors.” It cannot be reiterated too often that a large, stout man should aim to acquire the distinction and dignity given by long lines. If his body is proportioned so he really has neither length of torso nor of limb he must pay more attention to the cut of his clothes and attain length in whatever artistic way he can. The long coat, not only apparently adds length but it conceals too protuberant curves.

Of course, character counts far more than clothes, we will all agree to that, but at first glance it is a man’s clothes that impress people. Clothes affect our behavior somewhat. For instance, “When the young European emigrant, after a summer’s labor puts on for the first time a new coat, he puts on much more. His good and becoming clothes put him on thinking that he must behave like people who are so dressed; and silently and steadily his behavior mends.” Of course, there is an uplifting truth in George Herbert’s maxim, “This coat with my discretion will be brave,” yet, I am inclined to think that the majority of men who will stop to consider will agree with Emerson, who says, “If a man has not firm nerves and has keen sensibility, it is perhaps a wise economy to go to a good shop and dress himself irreproachably. He can then dismiss all care from his mind, and may easily find that performance an addition of confidence, a fortification that turns the scale in social encounters, and allows him to go gayly into conversations where else he had been dry and embarrassed. I am not ignorant, I have heard with admiring submission the experience of the lady who declared ’that the sense of being perfectly well dressed gives a feeling of inward tranquillity which religion is powerless to bestow.’”

A popular clothier in New York, understanding this trait of his fellow-men, voices this same sentiment in his advertisement in this succinct way: “Seriously now. Have you ever stopped to think that if you wear good clothing it adds much to that independent, easy feeling you should have when you come in contact with other men?”

I think it was Lord Chesterfield who said: “A man is received according to his appearance, and dismissed according to his merits.” There is a bit of truth in this we would all admit, I have no doubt, if we studied the question. Clothes affect our own poise, ease, and attitude toward others and the expression of others toward us, but, after all, we rely upon the man or woman instead of upon the impression we receive from the clothes. The garments, after we have noticed them in a superficial way, are chiefly interesting to us, because they are arch-betrayers of the physical and mental poise of the man. No matter what the cut of the cloth, no matter what cachet of a fashionable tailor a suit may have, or what its richness of material, the attitude “a la decadence”  would make the best clothes in Christendom look shabby and unattractive.

This too familiar carriage of the American man makes one wish to have the power to reverse the faces as Dante did those of the false prophets, so those who stand “a la decadence” might see what ridiculous figures they cut in drawing-room and street. The curved backs and rounded-out shoulders would make fair-looking chests, and the flat chests would represent respectable-looking backs.

A man owes it to the spirit within him not to stand or walk in such an attitude. He should brace up and keep bracing up persistently, unremittently, until he attains a more manly bearing.

The wholly alive fellow pictured in sketch N would make homespun look elegant. His chest is forward. He does not sag in front at the waist, protruding his abdomen in not only an inartistic, but an unhealthy manner; but he strides masterfully forward with an air of inspiriting “aliveness.” The perfect poise of his attitude is not unsuggestive of the Apollo Belvedere the model for all men a picture of which every college boy should have to place beside the prettiest girl in his collection of pretty girls, to constantly remind him to carry himself like a young god.