By KEVIN ZEBROSKI
COLUMNIST
I recently went to the theater —paying the usual exorbitant rate for my ticket stub — and saw The Place Beyond the Pines, the latest Derek Cianfrance film. The film opens in a 1990s setting and makes full use of the decade’s oversized drapery and visually dense graphics. Ryan Gosling’s adrenaline junkie motorcycling character, Luke Glanton, epitomizes the era with his oversized Metallica t-shirts that sit well past the shoulder blades (occasionally sleeveless), sweatshirts (always sleeveless) and an inimitable pair of skull print riding pants. Inimitable is a highly operative word here, since this is a character that shouldn’t be mimicked by anyone with less than ten tattoos, one of which should preferably be a face dagger. Still, there is something captivating about the impossible wardrobe, the set you know you could never pull off — or even want to — without living a completely different life. Fortunately, personal reinvention is an optional and exciting part of the human experience.
The pursuit of reinvention makes people do crazy things. Britney Spears shaved her head, Andre Agassi shaved his head and Walter White of AMC’s “Breaking Bad” shaved his head and grew a goatee.
Hair is perhaps the only part of our face that can be manipulated without surgical intervention, and our facial appearance is a hugely determinant component of our visual style since it is where the socially tactful plant their eyes during any extended conversation. Having control over our clothed appearance is a much easier job, but sometimes the function of clothing has to follow a multitude of lifestyle choices.
It does not look right to pose in genre-specific clothing, as clothing should be functional in a way that supports your regular activity. Posing just means wearing something you have no need for, modeling yourself like a mannequin instead of dressing for reality. It looks strange to wear motorcycle leathers, racing gloves and combat boots everywhere while driving a Prius to a desk job. Anything unnecessary in your outfit — with the exception of uniform standard accessories like the necktie — generally creates unwanted noise. The reason that neckties and tie pins get a pass is because they have a traditional niche in business culture, and they look good on just about everyone.
The reason for self-portrayal and all forms of personal style is essentially the need for passive communication: to present ideas with an immediacy and clarity that words occasionally fail to conjure. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a body constantly in motion must be worth something exponentially greater, given that the human eye refreshes its view at around 60 frames per second. That is 60,000 words a second if you believe the sketchy logic crossed with pseudoscience you read in a column that is supposed to teach you how to button your jacket.
