This question pops up time and again. The most recent pop-up happened at the disastrous Oval Office meeting of Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the President of Ukraine, with the irrepressible Donald Trump, President of the United States. Well nigh near the close of the abruptly truncated visit, Zelenskyy was asked how he was dressed by a rather straight-jacketed Brian Glen, a correspondent with the right-wing cable network, ‘Real America’s Voice’. “Why don’t you wear a suit? Do you own a suit?” Zelenskyy’s reply was quick and measured. He said, “I will wear a costume after this war finishes. Maybe like yours. Or better. Cheaper.”
Both the question and the answer are worth discussing. The question was meant to put Zelenskyy in a corner, telling him that he was not thankful enough to the president and the US for all it has contributed to the war kitty; it also told the president of Ukraine that he could not be so casual with the US and its people. Clothes make a man. Clothes convey respect. Clothes are deferential even. Clothes cannot look as defiant as a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.
Zelenskyy’s answer was a classic repartee as well. Instead of being offended, he clothed his reply with the troubles of his people and the war. And then he hastened to say he could do one better on the correspondent, at least in terms of a suit. He quickly added “cheaper” to bring home the wartime realities of his nation.
The key question, then. Are the clothes you wear important? Must you dress for events? Must you dress for the role, or must the role dress you? What is formal? And what is informal? A fortnight before the Zelenskyy-Trump meet, there had been a Modi-Trump meet in the same office, with both leaders seated on the edge of yellow upholstered sofas. PM Modi was in a very Indian and dignified Bandhgala and, underneath it, a kurta-salwar. He was ‘desi’ and ‘formal’ (whatever that means). The beauty of a Bandhgala is that you don’t have to wear a tie to make a jacket look formal. The Bandhgala is by itself entirely formal (that is, if showing your neck is meant to be informal).
The clothes that leaders wear, whether in the context of political or corporate leadership, have always been a matter of debate. In India, the moment a leader is in a suit and tie, it means he is senior and occupies a dignified position in whatever he is doing. The necktie, in many ways, signifies an extreme sense of formality. Those who wear neckties are meant to be at the top of the perch. They are the ones who sit in air-conditioned offices. Corner offices even. Those who do not are the ones in the field. They work in the sun. To use Gen Z lingo, they ‘hit the grass’. They are in the real world of hard work.
And then things changed in India. As the type-of-work pie changed in the country, in came IT, ITES and a whole set of work related to writing code, enabling end-to-end services and delivering customer service at the back end. The whole profile of work changed. Somewhere in the 70s then, the tie and jacket moved down the pyramid of workers’ profiles. Salesmen who front-ended the company with customers were expected to be in a tie and jacket, and those at the back end could wear less formal clothes. Trousers and long-sleeved shirts became the norm for the latter.
And then things changed even more. The very profile of those who worked in the new-age tech-led workspace changed. Employees were younger, much more irreverent and ready to bring themselves into the workplace in all kinds of ‘costumes’. They nudged the boundaries of what corporate HR would tolerate. Today, IT workspaces, and more so workspaces that revel in mind-work of every kind (GenAI, quantum computing included), are much more informal in dressing than ever before. It is not common to find a techie at the workplace in loose gym pants and a T-shirt. And the foot is no longer cloistered in a tight pair of formal leather shoes, or, for that matter, the more informal sneakers. Finding folk in sandals and even Hawaii chappals at the workplace is not so difficult today. The accent is on comfort.
I think the accent is on much more than comfort, really. The accent is on being real. The accent is on saying that I will dress the way I want. Clothes do not make a man, woman or them. My work is more important than my clothes. What I do is more important than how I look. My mind is more important than my body. Look at my work; don’t look at my clothes or my body instead. Why must I even dress the way the whole world of look-alikes dress? Over the decades, the change in corporate attire has been a part of the subliminal rebel movement that all humans are meant to nudge within their DNA. Uniforms are not for me. A shirt and trousers. A suit and necktie. All these are parts of the uniform attire thrust upon Indians by the Brits, who are no longer here but have left their shadows behind.
But politics and diplomacy are a different realm altogether. Out here, leaders are assessed by how they dress, how they hold their wine glasses and, in extreme cases, how they manage their chow mein with chopsticks.
In summation, let me take a step back and discuss just two Indian leaders from two different realms, and let me illustrate how each of them made a unique statement of their own. Mahatma Gandhi, for one. He landed at a tea party hosted by King George V and Queen Mary dressed in a khadi loin cloth, shawl, and frayed sandals. This was during the second round table conference in London in 1931.
When Gandhiji did this, he was making a political point. He was dressed as an Indian. He was showing solidarity with India’s poor and oppressed. This sure was a form of dissent by clothing. Once again, a righteous journalist asked him, “Are you wearing enough clothes?” The Mahatma’s repartee was just as fun: “The king is wearing enough on for both of us!” Now, that was a nice one. Winston Churchill went on to call him a “half-naked fakir”. Remember?
Let me then go a bit beyond 1931 into a deeper history. Swami Vivekananda was at the Parliament of World Religions in Chicago in 1893. An American woman actually asked him, “Can’t you wear proper clothes to look like a gentleman?” Swami Vivekananda replied, “In your culture, a tailor makes a gentleman. In our culture, character makes a gentleman.” Touche!
(Views are personal)
(harishbijoor@hotmail.com)
Harish Bijoor | Brand Guru and Founder, Harish Bijoor Consults