As the self is dressed

If you’ve come into the club wearing a t-shirt, cargo shorts and flip flops, you’ve heard me quip, “Thanks for dressing up.” We don’t post rules at the Algonquin, a private club of discerning and cultured members. You know, grownups. The point is, unless you’re 12 years old and your mom buys your clothes at Big C, you can do better. The unofficial dress code of the Algonquin is, “Make an effort.” T-shirts are what we sleep in, wear on the couch to watch Storage Wars or abuse a spouse. A collared shirt and trousers, no matter how humble, shows an effort.

Brah, did you try this martini?

I can already hear the objections: “You don’t get fashion, Chris, you corn-fed middle-American boomer.” And it’s true, I don’t get fashion. I get style. It’s in our classic handmade decor, Jim Thompson fabrics, crystal Lucaris glassware and growing art collection. It’s not about being elitist, it’s about making an effort. Respect the game and you change the game.

I am aware of the $400 Dolce and Gabbana plain white t-shirts, which are perfect for certain occasions. Like when you’re the mistress of a Russian oligarch about to be thrown over the side of his yacht. It pairs perfectly with a heavy gold chain, lap dances or dealing coke. While it may impress your TikTok followers or your parole officer, I remain unmoved.

For those who demand the right to “be comfortable” for any occasion, I ask, how about the comfort of others? You may think dressing down is an ironic status statement, because you are actually wealthy and have rejected the corporate world. Even the slovenly Sam Bankman Fried dresses up for his trial. He knows that clothes make a difference in people’s perceptions and despite his give-a fuck attitude, he respects the room.

And the shorts. Unless you’re on a putting green or showing off a prosthetic leg, leave them at home. It’s 22 degrees of air conditioned comfort in the club. If you feel persistently sweaty, I can recommend a good endocrinologist.

Lastly, the sandals. I wear them everyday around town. They’re my footwear of choice for enjoying roadside BBQ while sitting on a plastic stool, a favorite Chiang Mai experience. For enjoying dry-aged ribeye with a fine glass of San Giovese at the Algonquin, choose footwear that says, “I went to school.” Sandals are perfect for walking the streets, especially if you are a migrant laborer, budget tourist or other Chang Beer enthusiast.

I believe in the adage, “Dress like the person you want to be.” I want to be a person who consistently shows up, bringing the best version of myself to a place. Appearance is of course part of this, as a form of respect for the space and people in it. T-shirts and shorts in a social club signal resignation, that you have given up on the most basic sartorial standards. This look communicates laziness and disregard, a kind of fashion nihilism, like wearing sweatpants to church.

Wait, is this a Broadway theatre or a Home Depot? An honest mistake as my fellow audience members were dressed to harvest crops and drain septic tanks.

David Sedaris

Let’s up our apparel game in the aesthetic language of the Algonquin. Our community spirit is one of discernment, a power to distinguish beauty and excellence. Every interaction in our elegant space is an opportunity to be inspired by remarkable people. Dress for the occasion.