The function of a suit is to make the wearer look good, protect one against the elements, and to give one a better silhouette than one truly possesses. And, by extension, the function of a good suit is to not be black.
Now don’t get me wrong, black is a great shade (I belong to the school which considers it a shade and not a colour), perhaps the most practical of the lot. It makes one look slimmer, is easy to keep clean, and doesn’t show when soiled. Nothing beats it, or even comes close, when one is considering the more pragmatic option for a suit.
And therein, for me, lies the problem: the notion of style, in my mind, should supersede the idea of the practical. I am not fantastical to the extent that I think runaway fashion is great for everyday urban wear, but I do feel that a dark blue suit is one of the last bastions of formal wear. Sure, a tux can be black (and most often, is), but a regular suit as worn with a tie was never commonly black. Or, by an ironic corollary, if it was black, it was probably on a commoner, or a coroner.
I don’t own a black suit. I might someday, but I certainly won’t pair it with a black shirt; I am simply not that famous and eccentric (or that famously eccentric) to pull off such a stunt yet. Just like I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. There are things that you only do if you are a superstar or more than lightly-touched in the head.
And yet, not too long back, a major fashion do in the capital requested everyone to dress up in all-black formals, leaving me flummoxed as to how to suit up. The lady and I argued why I felt it was simply savage to turn up in a black ensemble that wasn’t an LBD (and I wasn’t feeling all that experimental that evening). So, instead, I sat and jotted down the few possibilities under which I may consider wearing an all-black outfit. These, mind you, are way more imagination-tinged than merely suggesting a funeral:
You are invited to join the Chris ‘Mindfreak’ Ensemble: Black suits will seem a lot saner than the straitjackets that those freaks need to be put into.
Marilyn Manson’sfuneral: He had a good run, scaring as many children and critics, making even God question the existence of the dark netherworld. He shall be missed and anything but all black at this raven’s funeral would be improper.
Men in Black IV wants you: As long as I can play Agent ‘M’ to Will Smith’s Agent ‘J’, I’d get into the blackest of suits.
Income: Actually, this would be a primary reason to own a black suit. My limited means were certainly the reason I bought my first suit in this shade. I spent lesser time cleaning it than anything else I have ever worn, including my bowler hat.
Colourblindness: A very plausible reason to not realise you own a black suit is because you thought it was midnight blue.
Rogueassassin: You moonlight as a high-grade hitman for VIP targets, all very discreetly and surreptitiously. You are also maybe a transporter for shipments of all sorts. Both these situations crown you with a gate-pass to owning not just one but a few black suits.
Outside these somewhat scattered yet individually valid reasons, a black suit is to be considered a last resort option. The world needs colour, the pride month has just passed us by, but let not the spirit of variety and hues die out just yet. Splash on a shade that’s not at the darkest end of the spectrum and show your support for equality as also as an homage to your innate sense of style.
This column is for anyone who gives an existential toss.
