Lawsuits concerning makeup, cornrows, hairnets, miniskirts, and bare midriffs punctuate his pages while bodies of regulations such as Louis XIV’s order that “only members of his royal court would be allowed to wear shoes with red heels” turn up frequently. As a lawyer, Ford is naturally drawn to disputation, and there’s plenty to cover. He notes that one reason that Joan of Arc was tried and burned for heresy was her penchant for wearing male clothing, in violation of biblical precept. We eagerly follow his gaze from the well-dressed young men and women who sat in at lunch counters during the civil rights era to the Black Panthers’ “quasi-military style that combined berets, aviator sunglasses, bohemian turtleneck sweaters, and long, sleek leather jackets.” Ford’s referents extend deep into the past. The author’s discussion embraces a vast body of knowledge, from what might be called fashion anthropology to a philosophy of sartorial splendor, and he’s an assured, genial narrator. Stanford law professor Ford opens with a memory of his “rigorous and refined” father, a minister and scholar who “endured my sartorial misadventures (asymmetrical ‘new-wave’ haircuts, nylon parachute pants, the ‘punk’ look, which consisted of deliberately torn garments held together with safety pins or duct tape) in quiet despair.” Of course, that garb was part of the costume by which one identifies with a group, and it speaks to a point Ford frequently reiterates: We all abide by dress codes, whether required to do so or not.

Clothes make the person-and a social code that defies resistance.

Dress codes richard thompson ford