For the Love of the Good Stuff: In Praise of Amekaji and Worlds of Difference Come Together
I come from a working-class immigrant family that got its “step” in the Madmen 50s. My father wore suits to work when my uncles wore uniforms or workwear. They all managed to get along after 5pm. While my dad never finished his architectural degree from Columbia---he was Registered without the degree---he very much took to heart his Ivy connection and he always dressed the part. That he’d made the transition from blue to white collar work was no small matter even in consideration of the structural privileges and biases that shape every American life. We’d not come from an educated family but rather one of makers: shipbuilders, tailors, bakers, firemen, and soldiers. Before his fortunes declined, my dad wore bespoke shirts from NYC tailors and handmade shoes from New England; he took his cues from the likes of David Niven, Gary Cooper, and Ronald Coleman. Think Coleman and Cary Grant in the 1942 movie Talk of the Town and that’s my father. He was rarely without a tie, a pr