Curtis Klingle

Goin’ Nekkid

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” Mark Twain

Twain conjectured that society judges each of us based upon our appearance. As it turns out, this superficial judgment has been going on for a very long time, in fact, pretty much since the beginning.

Scientists believe that early man spent his first 140,000 years on the planet naked. Though he was a bit slow, at some point two neurons came together creating the moment that changed everything. Imagine the opening scene of “2001: A Space Odyssey,” as Strauss’ “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” springs into the background. 140 millennia of denseness (not to mention airish-ness) being lifted as ancient man took that first small step in evolution by putting on that first animal hide. (I still can’t help but wonder how he battled the elements and steered clear of fauna equipped with stickers and thorns, all with his unmentionables exposed.)

From that eureka moment, I suspect it didn’t take long before he figured out that wearing a coat made of woodchucks or squirrels would not create the sense of awe that a bear skin might. When he put on rabbit skins he wouldn’t raise an eyebrow, even a protuberant one. But let us imagine what our ancestor’s primitive cave-mates would think if he came in sporting a sabretooth coat; now that’s a game changer! It seems even our ancient progenitors quickly deduced that clothes make the man.

As we travel through history, we find documented proof of clothes making the man and one such writing was penned by none other than Homer.Homer wrote the Odyssey around 7 or 8 B.C. and within his poem he described the goddess Athena directly assisting in outfitting the hero king Ulysses with some new digs. After finding him washed up on Phaeacian shores, Athena made sure he was decked out with the most ostentatious of garb, specifically designed to make him look stronger and more attractive to his viewers.

Now, whether deities are still getting involved in man’s choice of outerwear (there are no historical arguments addressing undergarments) is still up for debate, but the fact remains that this thematic line of clothes making the man is evident throughout the historical record. We have paintings of royalty, kings and queens seemingly drowning in layer upon layer of clothing, all of that lace and frills conveying opulence and nobility. There is also an abundance of depictions of the brave knight of old clad in armor designed to not only protect him but to make him appear larger and stronger. As we move from long flowing robes and steel britches, to pantaloons and inner coats the message remains the same: clothes make the man.

Fast forward a millennia or so, and fashion designers promulgate something near a religion based upon clothes making the man. The clergy of power dressing profess that by donning a suit coat with padded shoulders, some skinny jeans, and a sleek pair of shoes, which is then topped off with a special tie or even a manbun (oh, the horror!), the wearer is suddenly bestowed with supernatural powers, projecting authority, exuding confidence, and causing others to behave obsequiously. (sigh) Dear reader take heart, all is not lost. We may find solace in the fact that this emasculatory visage appears to be almost solely confined to boardrooms and courtrooms. Furthermore, the real men among us aren’t going to wear pants that double as a tourniquet or sport a hair style that exceeds the ridiculousness of the infamous mullet, thus, there is a ray of sunshine in this dark point in fashion history and little danger of this hell spawn infecting the rest of society. However, the assertion that clothes make the (girly or not) man is still applicable.     

As I continued to explore this concept, I surprisingly found that there are indeed modern examples where clothing seems to empower the wearer with a command presence and authority. Modern society has endorsed such attire in two specific areas: the military and law enforcement. The military uniform, being one of necessity, provides the ability to discern friend from foe on the battlefield, and it also enables the wearer’s rank within the military hierarchy to be readily distinguished. In addition, it commands respect from combatants as well as non-combatants. In a similar way, the law enforcement officer is readily recognizable via his uniform which commands authority and enhances his ability to enforce the law. Of special note, Mark Twain himself argued this point. He stated that the uniformed policeman was ten times more effective than one in plain clothes.

Now, being that I am intimately familiar with wearing a uniform, I got to wondering: is it really the uniform or our clothing that people see, or is it the wearer, the person himself? We have had more than 140,000 years to evolve beyond such primitive thought, and surely modern man is capable of rising above that shallowness and seeing beyond clothing. My goodness, the previously mentioned power dresser is a case in point that thinking people can clearly see through the veneer of mere clothing.  

So, the question remains, do clothes really make the man? As I thought this through, I returned to thoughts of the caveman. When clothing came along, the way others perceived him switched to his outer covering, and that covering elicited different results based upon the clothing he wore. I was thinking about how his rodent hides did not garner the same attention as a predator skin and that’s when it dawned on me: I have encountered something very similar.  

There have been countless occasions when not wearing my uniform, but instead clad in normal clothes that people didn’t recognize me. What is more, any law enforcement officer can attest to this experience as well. What this signifies is that people are seeing the uniform rather than me. Carrying this to its logical conclusion then, if our caveman devolved and returned to his nakedness, his fellow cave dwellers wouldn’t give him a second look. That being the case, I could therefore safely assume that if I were to shed not only my uniform, but all clothing, I probably wouldn’t garner a second look either, well, maybe a few, not as a result of my nakedness of course, but the incongruity of me typically being seen in uniform. Therefore, we may deduce that Twain was correct after all, clothes really do make the man. 

C. Klingle

Postscript- While realizing we haven’t progressed in over 140,000 years is a bit depressing, there is an upside. Should I find it necessary to work undercover in the future, I no longer need some sort of disguise. Indeed, based upon what I have recently discovered, I now know that all I need to do is shuck all clothing and just go nekked making it a certainty that no one will recognize me.