Showing posts with label Footwear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Footwear. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 14, 2025

A Nation of Slobs. But then. . .

 

Cary Grant and Myrna Loy from Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House.

O.W. Root
@NecktieSalvage
People think I am exaggerating when I say 50% of people's problems, strife and anger would go away if they just started dressing well, but I'm not. Dressing in a way that makes you feel good about yourself will make you feel better about others and the world too.

This is both a revived thread, and a new one.  It's one of many topics that shows up here in one way or another, including in stored drafts that I start off on, and then fail to finish. 

This one started:  I wrote my first entry here and put it up for posting to be run yesterday.

Then I read this on Twitter:

Atticus Finch (of Georgia) 🇺🇸🇺🇦
@Atticus59914029
I had an attorney I had never met show up at my office to take a deposition one day in blue jeans - blue jeans! I was insulted and lost respect for that attorney. How we dress does matter. It is a form of manners.

I agree with that comment in that how we dress, matters.

But it does show the regional nature of things, but still we should consider this carefully.

I've posted on this before, but I used to wear dark black Levi's or Lees to court on occasion, combined with a sports coat and a tie.  When I did that, I'd wear cowboy boots as well.  Wearing cowboy boots to court is isn't unusual here.  I've seen it done a lot. 

In retrospect, I haven't seen the jeans, such as I noted, with sports coat and tie all that often, but I have seen it.  I very rarely do that anymore, however.  Part of the reason I do not, however, is that I don't travel nearly as much as I used to, thanks to COVID 19 and its impact on travel and the law.  Travel was routine, COVID came in, and hard behind COVID were Zoom and Teams.

Indeed, I've appeared in a few Teams hearing recently in which the Judge was in the same town as me.  Prior to Teams and Zoom, we had a few telephonic hearings we'd do, but if we were in town, we were expected to show up.  

Not anymore.

Anyhow, I've seen a lawyer wear blue jeans in court exactly once.  That particular lawyer was a working stockman and was appearing in the court in the county in which he lived.  Nobody said anything.  He was otherwise in jacket and tie.  I have seen lawyers in blue jeans in depositions plenty of times, however.  Most of the time prior to COVID it was in combination with jacket and tie, but even in the couple of years before COVID this was changing.

I still wear a tie.

I had some lawyers from Texas show up a while back and they were in jeans and new cowboy boots.  There's working cowboy boots (all of mine are of that type), "ropers", which aren't cowboy boots, dress boots that locals wear, and then the weird dress boots that locals don't wear, but Texans do.  

I don't get that kind.

Anyhow, in order to wear cowboy boots as dress shoes, you have to know how to wear cowboy boots.  Some people affect a high water appearance with their dress shoes, and frankly do so on purpose.  Men's trousers are supposed to "break" over the shoes.  I.e., you aren't supposed to see the socks.  But for some odd reason, some Ivy League educated people wear their trousers "high water" so you can always see their socks.

Stockmen, Sheridan Wyoming, 1944.  This is an interesting photograph and it must have been taken as something was going on in the town where the photo was taken, Sheridan Wyoming.  The clean white shirts are a pretty typical semi formal dress for ranchers.  All the hats are good (clean).  Only he older rancher with the beat up Montana Peak hat is wearing a suit.  The stockman on the left is wearing baggy jeans that drape over his heels, still a very common way to wear them amongst working stockmen.  All of the visible heels are "doggin' heels" which are common only amongst working stockmen.

Cowboy boots, properly worn, are never ever worn high water.

Anyhow, it's interesting to note, note that Atticus does, that years ago I went to a Federal Trial in Cheyenne in which I was making a very limited appearance. After the day I had dinner with the defendant, who had been a Supreme Court Justice in Montana (where they are elected).  The main lawyer in the matter wore a suit every day, but he wore dress cowboy boots with them.  The retired S.Ct justice, when that lawyer got up to do something, turned to me with real anger and noted, as I was wearing a suit with wingtips, that "I'm glad to see somebody dresses like a lawyer around here".

Given that at that time I often wore cowboy boots at work and even at court it was quite ironic.

The last time I wore cowboy boots in a trial was over a decade ago, I'm sure.*  It was a relatively long trial and I'd basically cycled through my dress clothes so I wore a sports coat, black Levi's and my cowboy boots.  Nobody said anything, but later the plaintiff's lawyer grieved the judge over something in another case and claimed, referring to this one, that he had favored me as he hadn't said anything about it while he had, she claimed, about her shoes.  I don't recall anything ever being said about her shoes.

That was the last time.  I didn't want to be seen to be inappropriate in any fashion, again.

That does bring up suits, however.

My legal assistant dresses professionally every day.  I really should.  I do a lot, as there are things I go to constantly in which I appear as a lawyer, and I feel that I should dress as a lawyer is expected to, when I do, which involves at least wearing a button down shirt (usually white) and a tie

I do the same for depositions, but I"m almost the only one anymore.  I'll go to a deposition and everyone is dressed down in blue jeans and the like.  People actually comment as I'm not dressed in that fashion.

Indeed, I went to the eye doctor's the other day and was dressed for work, which on that occasion was khaki trousers, button down shirt, and a tie.  The person who checked me in joked that "I was too fancy to be there".

Times have really changed.  I recall a time when you went to the doctor's office and the doctors where wearing ties, or alternatively a smock that buttoned to the neck.

Physicians in the 1940s

Dentist into the 1980s, which I know due to my household, wore a dress shirt and sports coat to work, then a dental smock at work.  My father preferred clip on ties, probably has he had to change back and forth.

When I was growing up, I didn't know how to tie a tie.

Probably a lot of kids in my generational cohort didn't.  I didn't wear ties growing up. I never went to a school that had uniforms, and the dress code, to the extent there was one, seems to have largely pertained to junior high, where (boys) were not allowed to wear t-shirs advertising beer, and girls were not allowed to wear halter tops.  I can recall a boy being sent to the office once for wearing a beer t-shirt, although he'd worn it before, and a girl being sent for wearing a halter top that was quite a bit too less, so to speak.

Junior high and high school here were like the Wild West when I attended and by high school the authorities had simply given up on dress codes, I think.  We were largely self policing however, as by that time self appearance standards start to awkwardly kick in.  Kid from ranches dressed lake cowboys of the era and they were the real deal.  Otherwise we wore typical clothing of the era, which often involved t-shirts, which is odd to look back on now as I'm always cold and I never just wear a t-shirt anymore (I've had people comment on that).    Girls had generally become quite self conscious and therefore wore nicer clothes than boys as a rule, although the code, to the extent there was one, had clearly been suspended to the extent that I recall being confronted in a crowded hall by an amply endowed girl I did not know who had chosen to come to school in a very thing t-shirt and no brassier, which would have gotten a person sent home in any other era.**  It was shocking enough that I recall it even now, over 40 years later.

Events, I'd note, largely didn't require a tie.  I.e., school events.  We didn't dress up for nearly anything.  More significant social events, however were different, such as weddings or funerals, which is tough if you don't actually own any dress clothes and you've never had to wear them, particularly in the 1970s.  The 70s were a black hole for dress clothes with awful suits and loud or pastel colors.  I recall my father and I having to go out to get some dress trousers for me for a wedding and ending up with pastel light blue polyester dress pants, a true horror.  I hated them then, and I still do.

Anyhow, a self declared position of mine in my late teens was that I was never going to have a job in which I had to wear a tie every day.  It was arrogant and naive, but it did express my career goals quite well.  I thought at the time I'd work outdoors in one of the sciences.

Be that as it may, soon after high school I attended basic training, and learned how to tie a tie there.  The Army still issues ties.  I still tie a tie the way I learned at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma.

Even as a geology student I started to learn how to dress more formally, and thankfully the horrific polyester era was over.  For the most part I dressed every day as geologist in the field do.  I wore L. L. Bean chamois shirts in the winter and t-shirts in the summer.  By that time, however, I was gravitating strongly back to the rural dress patter, reinforced by basic training, where we the original patter heavy BDU shirt every day, unless it was the surface temperature of the sun, at which point we could go down to t-shirts.  Cowboys, you'll note, almost always ear long sleeve shirts and frankly anymore, I do too.  Just recently, in fact, somebody asked me "do you ever wear a t-shirt".  I truthfully answered, "yes, underneath a long sleeve shirt".

My parents taught me well, but it took some time for me to learn.

In law school our professors dressed professionally every day.  Men wore jacket and tie every day, and one professor, our business law professor, wore a suit every day.,  Oddly, it didn't make an impression on me at the time, but it sunk enough, I guess, that by the time I was getting ready to graduate I knew how to dress like a lawyer.  By the summer before I graduated I owned two Brooks Brothers suits, one bought for a wedding, and two Brooks Brothers ties.  I still have one of the ties.

I don't have either suit.  Suits, I've found cause an odd waist line expansion on me such that all I have to do in order to gain weight is buy a suit.  In fairness, at the time I bought the first two I was incredibly, probably dangerously, think. There's a long story behind that, but I'm not naturally really thin.  My father and grandfather were stout.  Not fat, but stout.  My mother was think, and seemingly everyone in her entire family is.  I seem to fit in somewhere in between, but having been a bit stout when I was in junior high and the first two years of high school (and then having rocketed to thin), I've always been a bit conscious of it and I do tend to watch my weight.  I'm as heavy now as I've ever been, but I'm still not approaching stout.

When I was first practicing law, the rules of dressing were made plain to me on day one.  In the winter we wore shirt and tie every day.  In the summer, we could wear polo shirts in the office.  Court rules had at one time provided that during the summer lawyers could wear short sleeved dress shirts and ties, and dispense with jackets, and the "Summer Rules" were still cited, even though they were no longer published as they had been.  I've never owned a short sleeved dress shirt and I've never appeared in court without a jacket.  About fifteen years after that a new district court judge imposed new rules, which included no khaki trousers in court.

Still, even before COVID, things were really changing.  You'd see lawyers wearing ties in their offices less and less.  Levi's began to appear.  And COVID just put things in the basement.  Lawyers will now appear in Zoom meetings with the Court without jacket and tie (not me).  I had one senior Court lawyer hold a meeting in which he didn't have one.  It's been odd.

And I dress way down in the office if I don't have to meet anyone.

I presently have two suits, only one of which I really like.  I wish I had a double breasted suit like two Brooks Brothers suits I've owned in the past.  They seem really hard to get now. The good one I have is a heavy wool suit. I have a grey wool suit that's just too thin.  I need to have, really, at least two more suits but I haven't had a long trial since COVID and I keep thinking, at age 61, that I only have a few more years of practice and I don't want to invest in work clothing that will likely outlast me.

The other one now has some very tiny holes, which would likely indicate some moths got to it at some time.  It's hard to notice, but there there.  It's embarrassing.

So I need to get some new suits, I guess.

And not just that

Ties I've had from the first years of my practice have really lasted, but I'm starting to throw them out as worn.  I can't really ignore that any longer.  And having waited to long, the bill for suiting back up is going to be monstrous, and at age 62, sort of a bad, if necessary, investment.  I'll have to practice until I"m 80, or start wearing ties to Mass or something, to make that pay off.

Footnotes

*I've never had a pair of "dress cowboy boots", like many people do.  I've had cowboy boots for a long time, of course, but never a fancy pair.  Every pair I've ever owned was a working pair, even if they were reserved for office and town wear at first.

 My regular cowboy boots.  The ones I wear to work, when I wear cowboy boots to work.


I wear cowboy boots in the office less than I used to for a couple of reasons.  One is that I often wear a pair of "ropers" that were bought for my son.  They're Ariats and really comfortable, and look Western.  The other is that I have arthritis in my right foot from an accident years ago, and my old cowboy boots sometimes get uncomfortable, and sometimes they don't, at the office.

**
"Mr. Bernstein: A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember. You take me. One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on. She was carrying a white parasol. I only saw her for one second. She didn't see me at all, but I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl."
Citizen Kane.  

I have found this observation from this movie to be really true.  The fact that I can recall the incident clearly is something I find curious.  That was the one and only time I ever encountered the girl noted, and I'm not pining for her, nor even proud of the recollection, but it's really clear.  I stepped around a student and she was right there.  She was short and Hispanic and looked up at me, but she was really showing, and probably conscious of it and embarrassed.  I was too.  It was only a very brief encounter, but for whatever reason, I can still recall it pretty readily, but I don't think about it every month.

Memory is interesting.

Friday, February 2, 2024

Wyoming Catholic Cowboys - raw and real: Boots

Wyoming Catholic Cowboys - raw and real: Boots: The history of retiring old boots on fence posts runs deep in American western culture. Why it got started, let's find out.  These boots...

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

The glory of being a trial lawyer.

The dirty little secret. . . there isn't any.

One of the nice things about being in a farm community as a working travelers is that their Sunday morning Masses usually start really early, as in 7:00 a.m. in this case.

At least not like portrayed in the movies, and certainly not like the silly "whaling for justice" type of stuff that the plaintiff's bar likes to shovel out.

Recently I tried a case out of town. I've tried so many in the past three decades I no longer have any idea how many I've tried, and if I stopped to try to count them, I know that I'd be inaccurate.  When you apply for a judicial appointment, which I've done several times, unsuccessfully (obviously), you are required to count them up, and I'm sure my numbers weren't the same any time I did that, even though I made an effort to be correct.

I do know that the year COVID restrictions on the courts lifted, I tried three that year.  That may not sound like a lot, but for a civil litigator it is.  I know quite a few civil litigators who have tried less than that over decades' long careers.  One law school colleague of mine who does the same work, has never, in so far as I know, tried a case.  An ABA review I once read of lawyers who had long civil careers and then retired (which seems to be a rarity) remarked that one of the subjects was proud of her "six" trials.

Six.

Hah.

There are a lot of reason there are not very many civil trials and even fewer serious civil trials, but one reason is that trials are hard stressful work.

But I'll get to that.

This past year, dating back a year ago or so, has not been a good one for me on a personal level.  I had surgery in the fall and missed the hunting season.  It was colon surgery, and I've never completely recovered, which is to say that my digestive track has not returned to normal, and it isn't going to.  During that process, it was revealed by a scan that I had a major thyroid nodule.  Followup on that showed it to almost certainly be cancerous, so during the trial, was looking forward to a second surgery, a partial thyroidectomy, and if really lucky I won't have to take medicine for the rest of my life.  There is, however, a good chance that I will have to. 

Having  the trial to accomplish meant that I didn't have to think about it, however.

In terms of good news, it turned out to be benign. Strange, but benign.  It's basically a result of an old injury, one I don't ever recall sustaining.

Current wound status.

Hopefully the recovery time isn't really long, but it varies quite a bit for people.  

I ended up never taking a day off from the second surgery, not even the day of the surgery, which was a mistake, I'll note.

Anyhow, for about a year running now, my life has been nothing but work.  As noted, I missed the hunting season and what little I got in prior to surgery was marred by being incredibly tired.  I'm not sure what was up with that (perhaps the thyroid), but I was.  I couldn't go for big game after that least I rip my stitches out.  

I did get out for waterfowl quite a bit late in the season, mostly on Sunday's after Mass.  I'd work on Sundays but for the Commandment to keep the Sabbath holy, which I take seriously, although occasionally I find myself working on that day too.

That's mostly a reflection of my personality.

The trial in question had been from a pre COVID case and it finally rolled around to to.  Just before it did, my opponent let me know that his young female partner was leaving, and she did before the trial commenced.  I was stunned, really, as she was bailing out of a really good firm and she's a really good lawyer.  She was leaving private practice to go in house.  

No more trials for her.

Then my younger female partner let me know she was leaving. She stuck with me through the trial.

Finding a lawyer you can comfortably try cases with isn't easy.  Frankly, maybe one in ten lawyers who do trial work are really talented at it and of those, maybe only 10% anyone one person meshes with well enough to have that role.  But here she definitely did.  Her leaving is a big loss to me, just as my opponent's younger counsel leaving was a big loss to him.  I don't know, really, if I'll be able to replace her.

For some time I've frankly wondered how she does it, as she's married with young children.  When I was first practicing law, the female litigators I'd meet, and they were few, tended to be childless, often by choice.  Quite a few women started to come into the law about the time that I did, and by and large if they were married and started to have children, they dropped out of practice.  It was just too much of a burden.

This recalls the old phrase, supposedly written by Jean Little, a Canadian author:

A man can work from sun to sun, But a woman's work is never done.

There's a lot of truth to that, quite frankly.

For some reason, even in our "modern" age, the traditional division of labor in which women are burdened with raising children while they're young and keeping the household has never gone away, even when the woman of the house is a professional and its first breadwinner.  Perhaps its simply genetic, although we're not supposed to say that.  About the only relief I see them getting is from willing grandparents, really, and that too, oddly enough, is a very traditional role for grandparents.

Anyhow, juggling a household and having a professional job that requires long hours and travel. . . that's brutal.  I don't blame these women a bit for seeking something else out.

One more example of how our modern "you live to serve this ship" lifestyle makes no sense and makes nobody happy.

You always go to the location of the trial early.

On Sunday, I looked out of my hotel window and saw this:


Horses by an old homestead, still being farmed.

Sigh.

The only thing I got out to do was to go to Mass.

I like everyone to have their own vehicles at a trial.  It gives everyone some independence.  If I control things, and at my age I do, everyone drives themselves.  

This, I'll note, isn't the case with some lawyers, although it is with all the ones I know.  Those people must be the really extraverted ones who just think everyone needs lots of sharing time all the time, and therefore they make the whole team prisoners to their automobile.

Hotels have evolved quite a bit in the past thirty years.  Thirty years ago I'd look for a hotel with a restaurant and then catch breakfast.  Now, most hotels that I stay at are "business hotels" which means that they have a light kitchen with the bare minimum. As breakfast is an afterthought with me anyhow, I’m good to go with that.

I’m not good to go with these monstrosities:


I hate Keurig machines and their stupid one cup at a time system.  I always have.  I never drink just one cup of coffee bu several, and I don't want to screw around making endless little cups. To make matters worse, it's invariably the case that the person who stocks the rooms leaves you hardly any real coffee, but lots of stuff like Ceylonese Green Herbal Tea or something. 

Blech.

We always go down and get a bunch of real coffee for the stupid Keurig machine.

One thing about trials is you get to wear your cool dress shoes that otherwise would look odd in our modern era.


These are saddle oxfords.  Saddle oxfords made from buffalo hide, I might add.  

I've never worn out, I might note, a pair of dress shoes.  I have my black low quarters from basic training still.  When I was first practicing, I bought a pair of wingtips made in Ireland, just like the dress shoes my father had when I was young. They've been resoled once, but they're still in good shape.

Indeed, I only have five pairs of dress shoes, one being the aforementioned Army low quarters I very rarely wear.  I'm never going to need to buy another pair.

I do need to shine them.

Parking lot view.

One thing about doing a trial in farm country is that it always causes me to think how lucky some people are that they get to farm as a career.

I don't think they appreciate that.

I never think that about trying a case in a big city.  I've tried cases twice in Denver and wasn't envious of a soul associated with Denver. The poor judge looked like he'd been rode hard and put away wet in the second one. Denver itself, out on the street, was like a Middle Easter Dysentery Ward in the 30s.  The jurors had jobs I wouldn't have wanted.  

Grim.

In farm country you see, however, people living the way that people are supposed to live.

Restaurant view.  The field below is one I've hunted geese in.

I constantly hear people in agriculture complain about it, and by that I don't mean the weather or something, but about being in agriculture itself.  Maybe complaining is just something people do.  Pascal noted:
If a soldier or labourer complain of the hardship of his lot, set him to do nothing.

I'm not sure what Pascal was aiming at there, but I think it might have been that people just complain.  I also think, however, that a lot of people who were born into agriculture have no idea what other work is like, including working as a professional.   

I turned 60 recently as well, which of course is a sort of milestone for many people, although I really didn't pay that much attention to it at the time.  It really started to set in, however, when I attended a mule action by video. Everything was too expensive, and I didn't buy anything, but leading up to it, I got a fair amount of opposition from my spouse.  Most of it was of the nature of "you don't have time".

I don't have time, which is because I work a work schedule at the office, in this civil litigator line of country, that's very heavy.  I work a schedule that's heavier than a lot of lawyers in their 20s and 30s.  I have nobody, I guess, but myself to blame for that, sort of.  Part of it too has to do with the circumstances during which I came up in the law, and part of it has to do with my own character.

When I was young, before I was a lawyer, I wanted to work outdoors.

It's never really stopped being in a least the back of my mind.  The net effect of that is that from the exterior I'm one of the rare trial lawyers who tries a lot of cases.  I'm cited to other lawyers that way, and because of the work that comes through my door, it's pretty obvious that my reputation as a trial lawyer is impossible to escape.  But part of the reason that I can't escape it is that those immediately around me, including those closest to me, see me that way and can't imagine a world in which I'm not yoked to the plow in this fashion.

Elijah set out, and came upon Elisha, son of Shaphat, as he was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen; he was following the twelfth. Elijah went over to him and threw his cloak on him.

Elisha left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Please, let me kiss my father and mother good-bye, and I will follow you.” Elijah answered, “Go back! What have I done to you?”

Elisha left him and, taking the yoke of oxen, slaughtered them; he used the plowing equipment for fuel to boil their flesh, and gave it to the people to eat. Then he left and followed Elijah to serve him.

1 Kings, Chapter 19.

I've always thought Elisha's actions baffling.  But they are not.  He was wanting to set out with Elijah, who had just anointed him his successor.  When he left the oxen and spoke to Elijah, Elijah seemed annoyed and told him to go back.

Yoke's were expensive, and so were oxen.  By burning his wooden yokes, there was no going back.

If this seems harsh, consider the similar lines from Luke in the New Testament:

As they were proceeding on their journey someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”

And to another he said, “Follow me.” But he replied, “[Lord,] let me go first and bury my father.” But he answered him, “Let the dead bury their dead.* But you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

And another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but first let me say farewell to my family at home.”  Jesus said, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.” 

In modern American life we imagine we can always go back and most of us live our lives that way.  Had Elisha decided, well, I'll plow the field and bring in the crops and take up being a prophet later, he wouldn't have become a prophet.  Those setting a hand to the plow, and looking back, don't plow a straight row.

And so back to the main.

There's really no glory in trial work, in spite of what people like to imagine.  It's hard work.  If you win, your clients view the victory as theirs.  If you lose, it's your fault.  Everyone wins some and loses some, and moreover, wins some they should lose and lose some they should win.  It's so stressful that most civil litigators, truth be known, and this includes both plaintiffs and defendants lawyers, won't try a case.  Those who will tend to be a tiny minority, and we try lots of cases, because we will.  You get used to a lot of the things about it, but like the way Jock Lewes is portrayed in SAS, Rogue Heroes (stay tuned for a review shortly), some of that is suppression of anxiety rather than its elimination, although anxiety does indeed decrease with time.  People who run around claiming they love everything about a trial tend to be weirdos or liars, more often the latter than the former.

And, for what its worth, I've tried a minor case since this one.