This story originally appeared on the Gents Cafe Newsletter. You can subscribe here.
I’m sat in an airport departure lounge café. Frankly it could be anywhere in Western Europe but
given the proliferation of paella dish fridge magnets & endless flavours of Turron it’s Manises
Airport in Valencia. The coffee is good and the flight back to London is still another hour away.
Fashion wise, it’s a real mixed bag. I’ve worked in fashion on & off for years, mostly on due to
the lure of free clothes & late starts. Now, I’m no style icon, but I must confess there have been
many times in my career when I’ve had to stop myself from being a tad too judgemental and it
is here in the cool atmosphere of the main terminal at Manises I’m sensing the stirring of
familiar feelings once more.
As I down the last drop of my coffee and saunter over to the gate I look around at the rest of the
men that have gathered there and begin to make some mental notes. Lots of shorts, casual
shirts and trainers are the first things I notice.
Before he retired, my father was a seasoned air traveller, and as a young man, he would regale
me with stories of his experiences in departure lounges from Buenos Aires to Birmingham and
beyond. “Always dress comfortably to fly” he’d say. The queue for the flight begins to grow and
on cue I spy a couple of businessmen all suited & booted, ties at choking point, with their
chubby red faces already beginning to perspire.
I can imagine him now looking at them “sweating cobs” whilst he remained cool in a pair of
neatly pressed cotton slacks, unbuttoned polo shirt and soft leather slip-on loafers. A lightly
constructed sports jacket in either grey or navy over his arm, an antique Omega strapped to his
wrist and a hand rolled cigarette or two in his chest pocket.
At 56 I’m finally getting a sense of what he was doing. I feel more content with who I am as man
and how I dress. It’s worth putting some thought into what you wear, and I mean every single
day of the week. Trust me when I say, you’ll feel better, and people really do notice.
Sure, there are days where you get it wrong. What looked good in front of the mirror first thing
suddenly looks tired and ill-thought out in the bright lights of the city. It’ll happen; that’s just
life. How you feel dictates what you wear and vice-versa.
My wardrobe may be ever so slightly more “Man at M&S” with the odd designer label thrown in,
but I’m happy with my style, I feel comfortable and believe me folks, that is where it’s at.
As I refocus, I realise I’m staring directly at a Spanish guy in an un-ironed polo, tired & shapeless
jeans and non-descript trainers. He looks at me directly and says “Que Mira??” – what are you
looking at?
I gesture “Nada”, he spits on the floor, turns away, trips over his oversized cabin bag and hits
the floor with a resounding crash. Somewhere in my head I hear my dad give a chuckle.
