Polishing Shoes

I polished my shoes today.

It was the first time I have polished shoes since I was discharged from the army. In the nine years spanning from that day I have never picked up a can of kiwi, never sat rythmically brushing my shoes, never smelled the acrid-sweet smell of the polish.

No, since I left the army I have rarely tucked in my shirt or checked to see if my button hem created a straight line with my zipper flap. Last week I ironed my shirts for the first time since the army, carefully creating a crease in the front just as I did so many nights back when I was stationed in California. I shave now when I wake up in the morning rather than once a week, as was previously the case.

I polished my shoes today, and my friends want to know why.

I could certainly easily make their case for them. After all, I am an old hand at it. It is a case that I have made all my life. Clothes are, after all, only material objects, are they not? They serve to cover the body, nothing more. They serve a utiltarian purpose. Yet, all of us know that this isn’t completely true. I mean, it isn’t as though even the most slovenly of us take absolutely no thought in what we wear. But still, it might be argued that clothing is superficial, and that it is foolish vanity to put very much thought into it. In the end, I once would have said, there are more important things to worry about.

I polished my shoes today.

I could have spent that time reading philosophy or thinking about something deep. I could have practiced viola or studied latin. I could have just relaxed and taken in some recreation. But I didn’t. And I suppose I should explain why. Is it strange that I have to explain myself in such matters? Perhaps. But one thing I have learned as an observer of human nature is that change threatens people. Especially one’s friends. They spend a number of years getting to know you, learning your habits. This makes them feel comfortable around you because you are predicatable. And if one of your friends suddenly moves from wearing dirty old t-shirts to tucking in oxford shirts and polishing their shoes, it creates some alarm. There is also the issue of dressing nice. In the United States, if a man dresses nice and he isn’t on his way to work or church, he immediately falls under suspicion. That has to do with a whole different issue of the leveling egalitarian philosophy that is now current. It is the same reason people would prefer to call their professor “man” than to give him his title. But I digress.

Let me start off by listing incorrect reasons that people might think are my own. These are not the purpose of my change:

1. To be fashionable. As Oscar Wilde has said, “Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.” I couldn’t agree more. In fact, a simple look at what is actually fashionable would be a great way to see what I would never wear. I despise fashion so much that it would consume this entire post if I got into it. So let us leave it at that.
2. To look important. I am not interested in appearing what I am not. In fact, I am very much interested in appearing what I am. I am an English graduate student who stains decks for a living. That is what I tell anyone who asks. I am not trying to pretend to look like something, nor am I trying to simulate the illusion of having money. It is a bizzare modern mentality that one must be wealthy to concern oneself with one’s appearance. When I was a grunt in the army I probably spent a few hours every day looking after my appearance, and believe me, an E-2 is not rich
3. Meticulous attention to appearance is effeminate. Okay, this isn’t so much a mistaken reason as it is a criticism. What one must realize is that this is one of the most insidious, anti-traditional, bourgeois notion that I have ever heard. This is the rhetoric of the mass man, of the democratic man, of the leveler. He resents the judge for his robes, the academic for his hood, and the soldier for his uniform. It just isn’t fair, the mass man says, for one to have such distinctions or honors. After all, aren’t we all created equal? So in order to attack such distinctions, he resorts to name calling. And it isn’t just against clothing either. Literature, fine art, poetry, nice clothing–anything civilized, cultured or refined is attacked. Attacked not by the Leftist, but by the “conservative” bourgeois mass man. Hell, they even attacked drinking cappuccinos and lattes as effeminate and uppity until they decided they liked them. But I digress. Returning to the subject of appearance, let me give you a few examples to demonstrate that it is far from effeminate.

Herodotus tells us that as the 300 Spartans were preparing to face the forces of Xerxes at the Hot Gates, they took great care to comb and arrange their hair before facing death. I hardly think that the Spartans can be regarded as effeminate. In many ways they have been considered a hyper-masculine society. The attention to tradition and discipline is carried forward in even today’s military:

The Army is a uniformed service where discipline is judged, in part, by the manner in which a soldier wears a prescribed uniform, as well as by the individual’s personal appearance. Therefore, a neat and well-groomed appearance by all soldiers is fundamental to the Army and contributes to building the pride and esprit essential to an effective military force. A vital ingredient of the Army’s strength and military effectiveness is the pride and selfdiscipline that American soldiers bring to their Service through a conservative military image.

Part of the reason that this standard has remained is because a warrior partakes in the metaphysical. This isn’t something I want to overly belabor here, but suffice to say that a soldier is one who, ideally, is willing to die for an idea, for the good. There is a certain parallel here with the complex dress of an Orthodox priest. A priest does not simply walk into church a perform liturgy in blue jeans. In fact, he is always dressed in a distinct way. Just as a soldier in uniform is immediately recognizable, so too is a priest.

This is a subject that I intend to continue on, so consider this an opening volley.