Good morning from Brooklyn where I witnessed a gang of youths at the nearby park break through a wire fence to get to a little hill where a pile of various discarded plastic playhouse parts was waiting to get carted away to the dump and turn it into a fort. The children looked to be led by a mop-haired boy who looked like he was dressed in some Rag & Bone Jr. flannel and had a pair of Jordan 1 Pollens (yellow and black) on his feet, was probably named something like Kanye Didion Schwartz and his dad was in a band which had a small square in a 2004 issue of Spin dedicated to their new record and that was about it. His mom is a high-powered “cancel manager” who helps high-ranking businesspeople understand “millennial cancel culture.” They met at Obelin. Besides watching the kid and his little crew, I don’t know if the backstory is true, but I wouldn’t be surprised.
Today I’m thinking about dress codes. I don’t care for them, but I also don’t love going to a place and seeing some guy (it’s almost always a guy) dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt that says “Fuck your feelings,” but to each their own. I’ve been thinking about this a lot as I’ve been slowly trying to go out and eat at restaurants more. I’m still not 100 percent back to inside, I think I’ll wait to see if we can make it to the warmer months without a new crazy outbreak for that. But I have been noticing when I go out that people seem to be totally fine with getting a little dressed. Nothing fancy, but I’ve just noticed people seem to be making going out more of a thing again, and just as I was starting to think about this, my friend Maris sent me this:
Back in 1978, the Times published a men’s dress code list for some of the top eateries in New York City. The first one that popped out at me was for Mama Leone’s: “Casual attire is accepted although the welcome mat is pulled in for men wearing shorts.” If you wore shorts to Sardi’s, “there isn't even S.R.O.” Gage & Tollner, which has reopened in the last year to great fanfare, gave a little wiggle room: “An easygoing, sprawling place that even welcomes men wearing shorts. “But not,” cautioned a friendly voice over the telephone, ‘short shorts.’”
Here’s the thing about dress codes: I’m not a fan of them. People have written about why they’re often straight-up bad, and as somebody who grew up drug along to more than a few dinners and parties at country clubs where I did everything in my power to see what I could push back on in terms of what was deemed acceptable and wouldn’t put too much extra attention on me, already the only broke-ass Jewish person in the room filled with WASP types. There are a lot of reasons dress codes can be problematic, but I will admit that I think a little too much about wearing shorts to go out and eat. When is it OK and when is it not?
First, I’ll say this up-front: this is a Me thing. You do you. This isn’t me judging anybody for what they wear. But I will say that I think as we approach the warmer months of the year, there is basically one way to look at this. It’s fine to wear shorts to eat out, but only in some situations. Those include:
Eating outside. Rooftop or backyard cookout, shorts are fine. If you’re somewhere next to the ocean or a pool, shorts are also OK.
Fast food. You’re in L.A. and you stop at In-and-Out or you’re somewhere in the Hill Country and you see a BBQ that you’ve never heard about and they have little tables for you to eat your brisket, then that’s all good.
Hungover for brunch on a Saturday or Sunday morning. Nobody will fault you for that. Brunch should be chill.
When am I anti-shorts for eating out? Simple. When you go somewhere for dinner. I won’t do it. Shorts to dinner? It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t have some good reason as to why that is, but I just go out to eat at night and I see guys in shorts and for some reason I get serious douche chills. I guess the exception (and I’m sure I’ve done this) is if you put some thought into it and wear a pair of “nice” (whatever that means) shorts with an oxford or a polo or some shirt with a collar. But shorts and a t-shirt is a hard-line I can’t cross. The one exception to this rule I’ll ever make is one I imagine you maybe could have gotten away with at Windows of the World, where there was a sign on at the elevator that said ‘“No jeans or denim of any kind’ and the management says that the rule strictly enforced. In addition, jackets and neckties are required, although the man arriving without them may borrow them while dining.”
Note that the restaurant said noting about shorts. So if you showed up and you were in a “Fuck you you fucking fuck” t-shirt you bought on Canal Street and a pair of shorts, you could argue that as long as you paid the ten-dollar deposit for the jacket and the tie and you put that on over your ensemble, then you’re good according to the sign as long as your shorts or “Fuck you you fucking fuck” shirt aren’t made of denim. And that, to me, is comedy. It’s very Rodney Dangerfield in the 1980s sort of move to go to a fancy restaurant and not having the jacket so they give you one and you put it on over something like a Hawaiian shirt or whatever. That, my friends, is comedy. And if I go to a restaurant and it has a dress code and I see somebody pulling that move, I’m buying them a drink.
I love this Jason! Do you possibly have a better scan of the NYTIMES list? I love that kind of ephemera