Beaux of the Ball (Swan Ball 2008.1)

Instead of a Swan Ball write up typical to the blog, this year I'll post the bits I wrote for Nfocus. They didn't tell me I couldn't, and don't have a complete Web site of their own so I don't think this will be a problem.

It was a lot of fun going as press this year, but I never spent more than five or ten minutes in one place and so did not get to visit as much with those I would have liked. I'll just give a big shout out to old high school friends who have become wonderful new grown-up friends Brooks Smith and Lanson Hyde. And of course a special shout out for those friends who have been close to me all my life, and remain as wonderful as ever: Jessica (Gutow) and Dan Viner, Kate (Davis) and Eric Satz, Harkness (Harris) and Scott Brown, Julie Riven, and Billy and Jennifer Frist.

Nfocus invited me to write for the magazine this year. Ellen Nelson and Sinclair Kelly, Editor and Managing Editor of the Nashville social magazine, invited me to be a hat judge at the Steeplechase and thought I'd be a good choice to write about men's fashions at the Swan Ball. This is sort of a two-fold joke: First, I am not a fashion critic of Bravo reality television quality, but have spent time criticizing fashion based on my genetic gay fashion sense and everything I've learned from my armchair worship of Tim Gunn. While this does not merit me a spot as a guest judge on Project Runway, it does make me the most qualified man in many rooms in Nashville. Secondly, talking about men's fashions at the Swan Ball is like asking army soldiers' who they're wearing to all the wars this year—all the men are in the same uniform.

So, in the typical Hardcastle tone, here is my take on men's fashions at the Swan Ball.

Fashionistos
(aka Beaux of the Ball)

The media frenzy surrounding the Swan Ball usually focuses on women’s fashion: who’s wearing what, how well, and where she got it. And sometimes in hushed tones, how much she paid for it.

But what about the men? This year I launched myself into the Ball determined to find the finest of the men’s fashions. It was a running gag to be sure: “So, who are you wearing?” is not the typical question when all the men are in the same white-tie uniform. Covering the ladies of the Swan Ball may be a Herculean effort if only by sheer (and silky) volume, but covering the men may take a sharper eye: a bit like finding the hidden pictures in Highlights. Or rather, finding the diamonds in a case of cubic zirconia.

Let’s not kid ourselves though. Most of the gentlemen’s answers to the question “Who are you wearing?” were uniformly (pun intended) “Bittner’s.” Overall, the primary distinction among the men’s wear was own-versus-rent. I was surprised at the number of men who own black patent leather shoes. I image they can’t be that comfortable as it’s hard to break in a shoe by wearing it only a couple of times a year (assuming they are worn with black tie as well as white). Some men shook things up by wearing black velvet shoes. However, I think those might go better with a smoking jacket or a dressing gown. Leather with a shine should still be the rule for formal attire. Men proud of their footwear and wearing neither patent-leather nor standard black suit shoes cited Kenneth Cole as their cobbler of choice.

The ratio of renters-to-owners was considerably different at the Late Party and similar to San Franciscan real estate figures. A word of advice to the young socialites: buy now. It will be the best in-vestment you make this year. Bittner’s and other formal wear shops have sales from time to time featuring some of their backstock or older lines of formal wear. The basic white pique shirt, vest and tailcoat suit looks pretty identical to the next set, and you can pick up your own for anywhere between $70 and $200. Wear it twice and it’s cheaper than renting. When I started on the Dance Committee, I bought my original tailcoat and dinner jacket from one such sale. When I got too fat healthy for it, I replaced the dinner jacket with one I found from a similar outlet on eBay. Online retailers may have a better selection, but you have to know your measurements and be prepared for the hassle of returning items by mail. Most of the men at the Big Ball who owned their suits had owned them for more than a decade.

Searching the Swan for the tailored tailcoats, I found that many gentleman don’t like being left out of the high fashion that is this night’s fine feature. While there may have been more, I counted six or seven hand-tied white ties. Silk and polyester formal bow ties can be found at the better formal and department stories, but the pique ties are harder to come by (and much harder to tie). The gentlemen of the Swan Ball, including Cheekwood Director Jack Becker, know the difference.

Men’s couture designers such as Versace and Armani have their own lines of black-tie formal wear. But when it comes to white ties and tailcoats, the pickings are much more slim. At the late party, one gentleman was wearing a patterned white satin vest with matching tie his wife procured just for the occasion. This combo was refreshingly distinctive at the Late Party, but the sheen and the line should be traded for the traditional matte pique by the time he rotates off the Late Party. Up at the Big Ball, more gentlemen set themselves apart. Among many of those owning their outfits, when asked who designed it the men could only produce a barcode in the way of a label. Owned items were usually procured from a rental shop or sale. Men who could give me a name (and they were few) cited Nashville clothier J. Michaels.

Unquestionably, David Ewing (escorting his equally fashionable godmother Leatrice McKissack) gets the prize for best vest. David sported a dapper white pique waistcoat with a unique, colonial cut from San Franciscan designer Wilkes Bashford. Naturally, he had a hand-tied white tie to match.

When considering fashion at the Swan Ball, who better to consult that the House of Fiandaca? I asked Alfred for his thoughts when it came to fashion designers and men’s white-tie wear. Alfred has had his tailcoat for more years than I am comfortable repeating (in case someone wants to do the math and back end to his age). Let’s just say that his tailcoat is flawless, and it is the same one he wore as an escort to debutante balls in his teens and early twenties. He did admit that over his lifetime he has let it out. Once. Even that surprised me, considering Alfred is as fit as his models.

The longest tailcoat story came from the husband of a former Swan Ball Chair and told on the strict condition of anonymity. He bought his original suit in 1976. When his wife became Chair of the Swan Ball, he witness the parade of designer gowns his wife considered and thought he would rather not look “like a schmuck” next to her and decided to get a new set. He went to the shop where he bought his first set, Tripler’s in New York, only to find it had gone out of business. He tried Paul Stewart, Brook Brothers, and others only to be told time and again “We don’t do tails.” He was finally advised to seek out the Italian tailor at Bergdorf’s who could custom make a tailcoat. After taking the measurements agreeing on designs, the tailor moved on to choice of fabric. The price for the suit was around six thousand dollars for a basic summer-weight wool. The tailor attempted to up-sell the gentleman to a lightweight wool with a 3% cashmere blend. Mildly impressed, the tailor then offered an even better fabric “if you really want to do it.” This fabric featured cashmere only from the belly. None of that common “back cashmere.” (Heaven forfend.) The price differential: five thousand dollars more. “I asked the man—he was a life-long tailor well over 65—can you, as a professional tailor, tell the difference?” His answer: “No, but some people in New York want to know they are wearing only belly cashmere.”

The gentleman declined the up-sell, and remained looking elegant and classic in his custom made, lightweight wool tailcoat. The custom tailoring, the quality of the fabric, and the subtly distinctive line of the suit were all visually apparent, and in my opinion worth the investment. I felt a bit less fashionable in is presence though. Having opted to rent my tails instead of packing them into a suitcase, I’m pretty sure I was wearing only “backside polyester.”

The arena in which a gentleman can brightly express his fashion identity at the Swan Ball is jewelry. Not the wife’s stones (although I did have to tell one woman that I loved her work in Titanic), but the gentleman’s studs and cuff links. White-tie typically demands silver-hued jewelry. In the cases that a gentleman sported gold accessories, these were usually monogrammed. Of those interviewed, all men wearing gold monogrammed studs and cuff links reported that the items were gifts from mother or wife. If a man wore jewelry that was neither from the rental shop nor a golden gift, it tended to be an act of personal expression.

The basic silver knot is the most common step up from costume, and successfully sets the gentleman apart. It also steps up his fashion game to Swan Ball levels. From there, particularly at the Big Ball, personal jewelry was a mix of sterling, platinum, and mother-of-pearl. John Hardcastle wore his grandfather’s matching sets of platinum and mother-of-pearl, on which I am now formally calling “dibs.” Other gentleman told similar stories of past paternal patrons passing down their shining silver accessories.

I believe that Ridley Wills’ assortment of formal accessories rival that of many a Belle Meade matriarch. At this year’s Swan, Ridley looked resplendent in a set of Camilla Bergeron studs and links composed of invisible-set rubies, a gift from his witty wife Betsy. (Unfortunately, he does not loan these out to friends. I asked.) This bit of sparkle defines the exception to the rule that a white tie should be accompanied by silver accessories.

At first glance, it may seem that every gentleman at the Swan Ball is wearing the same outfit (and yet no one gets embarrassed). The reality is that there are options for men of distinction to distinguish themselves fashionably. From the Symphony to the Swan, these gentlemen have balls. •