The gentleman figure has been co-opted by profit-seeking entities (clothing companies, magazines, even blogs like this one) and divorced from his essential telos, that is, to act as a moral and mannered human being (as opposed, necessarily, to an immoral and ill-mannered one), regardless of status, creed, code, or color.

Applying the adjective “common” to the loaded concept of gentility, or the genteel person, then, democratizes the concept and has endless real-world implications. For example, the gentleman of history would feel obligated to patronize his local tailor in order to distribute his wealth and keep the bloke in business. The common gentleman, however, feels no such obligation towards any type of patronage, may not have any wealth to speak of and may prefer the natural-shouldered Brooks Brothers suits of 1980s that he finds at his local Salvation Army —- indeed, he may not wear a suit at all.

There are innumerable ways to be a good man, perhaps; I can only hope to put forth my understanding of one of them on these computer screen pages.

Let’s get out of bed in the morning and (in addition to whatever else we do: pray, reach for a cigarette, get back into bed) begin with a thought experiment.

If this is too difficult amidst the thick fog of early morning delirium, a simple visualization will do.

Imagine, good sir, that you are ten years into a life sentence. You’ve had the misfortune of finding yourself in solitary confinement. You spend 23+ hours a day alone. You have a window, which is about six inches wide and it comprises the extent of your experience of the outside world. Imagine the interior life of this man.

Flash back to your groggy-eyed morning self.  

How would you look upon this opportunity if you had been granted one day of leave outside of the prison (supervised, of course, by friends in blue)? Assuming that you wouldn’t head out into the world to rape and murder, but, rather, you’d go about your business in the traditional fashion with an informed mindset. What would that look like?

Ultimately, assuming this shift in perspective doesn’t change the “what” of one’s day, but rather the “how.” CBG encourages you to examine the marrow of that experience and internalize it. Perhaps, substitute it for the marrow of your own brittle bones.  

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As I’ve previously alluded to, I worked in the locker room of a country club for a few years.

In addition to having to watch overweight middle-aged and elderly men strut about in various stages of undress, I was responsible for shining both the dress shoes and golf shoes of the membership.

Most men at the club didn’t particularly care if their shoes were recently shined. This surprised me. If a mirror-like foot covering is at one end of the spectrum and something purchased for $19.99 with a sole falling off that’s never been near a Kiwi product, or even a wet rag, in its life is at the other end of the spectrum, most men seemed pretty comfortable with their dress shoes (and I use the term very generously) and golf shoes leaning much more towards the latter end of the spectrum.

I don’t mean to encourage vanity. St. Peter probably won’t be checking the shine on your shoes when you arrive at the pearly gates. I’m not saying a man’s shoes need to pass military inspection every day of the week, but shouldn’t they pass inspection sometimes?

The prevalence of the rubber soled abomination from the Sketcher’s “dress shoe” collection also astounded me. I am not an advocate for bespoke footwear for most men.  I am not asking you to fly to London to be fitted for your shoes. Bass, Johnston & Murphy, Alden and Allen Edmonds will all do just fine. Shoes ought to be an investment, not an afterthought.

Also, for heaven’s sake, if you’re wearing a suit and oxfords, I ought to be able to hear you walking behind me on the street. I am thoroughly confounded by the number of power suits which are paired with gumshoes…the sole of a men’s dress shoe is made of wood. 

If you find yourself in a situation where you are paying someone to shine your shoes in 2012, a $5 is de rigeur. Likewise, if you can’t afford to peel a fin out of the iron jaws of your wallet, you shouldn’t be having your shoes shined. Wear Crocs instead.  

Caring about your shoes seems to be correlated with caring about…well, you fill in the blank. Caring about your appearance in general. Caring about your life. Caring about going to the gym. Caring about playing golf well. Caring about your family. Caring about what scotch you drink. Were there men with worn Sketchers that seemed to have things together otherwise and played golf well? Yes. They were, however, the overwhelming exception. 

The specific mechanics of a shoe shine are not alchemy, although a disturbing percentage of the members seemed wary of engaging in what they regarded as an esoteric science. You clean the shoe, either with a damp rag or a leather cleaner. You a first coat of polish, preferably with a brush in small circles and you let it dry. Following this it’s time for the brush, with which you polish the shoe in broad strokes, toe, sides and heel. If necessary, you apply a second coat of polish and repeat the aforementioned. Finish buffing the toe with a rag for an additional bit of shine, or an express shine sponge, if you are so vulgar.

Certainly, there are an endless number of variations on the above, but those are the basic maneuvers. 

There were a few men who obsessed over their shoes. There is really no pleasing this type of shoe fetishist: he who scours StyleForum for the tips for antiquing his brogues, or has spent 1/20th of his annual net income on a pair of John Lobbs. While I appreciate the concern for quality footwear, I don’t support making the things an idol or mourning the first scratch on a pair like the loss of one’s firstborn.

Shining shoes in general may be a dying art, but shining golf shoes is soon going to be a dead art. Within the next few years, all golf shoes will be either look like cross trainers or Vans, neither of which require much maintenance or care, beyond a wet rag. As golf in has become more of a sport, “requiring” sport specific gear, it has become much more casual. There was always going to be a tension between the gentleman’s country clothes and the relatively physical activity of playing a round of golf, so in a sense, it’s not surprising. As long as there are men in suits, it seems, there will be dress shoes. As long as they are made of leather or synthetic leather, I hope they will be recently shined and well-made. 

In the pantheon of the golfing greats, amongst Nicklaus, Palmer, Snead, Nelson, Jones and Hagen, Ben Hogan occupies a truly unique place.

Perhaps, this is because of his apparent mastery of the golf swing and the assumption that had he not nearly died in a vicious car crash (which resulted in awful circulation in his legs, near blindness in one eye, and extreme pain throughout most of his body for the rest of his life), or spent nearly two years in the Army during World War II, he would have been able to compete in (and presumably win) many more tournaments than his 60+ professional victories.

His unique place, too, might have something to do with the heroic narrative of his life; even before a Greyhound bus crossed the center lane, opening a most poignant chapter in the story of golf in America. Hogan’s rise from poverty, famously selling newspapers and sleeping in bunkers to be the first caddy at work while honing his skills in solitude is an arresting tale, and one which seems quintessentially American.

This isn’t to take into account the fact that his father, Chester, shot himself in the chest near to or in front of the young Ben Hogan, or to speculate as to the powerful, personal and awful import of that event in the golfer’s life.

Hogan would have likely succeeded in whatever career path he chose. During his early struggles on Tour, he contemplated quitting the game for a career in banking or finance. Despite the fact that he didn’t graduate high school, his diligence and analytical mind, as well as a reported IQ of 155, would have ensured success.

He did, of course, succeed with his business venture, The Ben Hogan Golf Company, and, for a while at least, produced the best irons in golf.

Hogan, then, was a tremendously successful golfer and a successful businessman, as well.

However, he was, at least according to Kris Tschetter in her recent book about the golfing great, mostly concerned with being remembered as a good man and a gentleman, rather than as a great golfer, or as the architect of the modern golf swing.

He placed a great value on modesty and not giving offense, famously clipping the labels out of his shirts and having his pants tailored to avoid the possibility of his fly coming undone.

He dressed in dark, conservative colors, with clothes perfectly creased, looking like a military officer out of uniform. If you do a Google search for photos of Hogan off the golf course, you’d be hard pressed to find a picture of the man without a coat and tie.

Even after 50 years of marriage, he still stood up when his wife left the table.

Perhaps, he was not the most warm and inviting, although this is easily explained considering the traumatic events of his childhood. From all reports, though, he may have been curt, on occasion, but never rude.

His replies were often brief, but always thoughtful.

He neglected to cash in on the goodwill associated with his name and open a chain of golf teaching schools because he felt he couldn’t give the personalized attention to each customer that would be expected at a Ben Hogan golf school.

He was quietly generous to those he knew to be in need and left a great deal of money to his church, although formal philanthropy was never a top priority for the man. With the recent creation of the Ben Hogan Foundation, however, a charitable mandate has been established in Hogan’s name.

In one sense, Hogan lived a magnificent and remarkable life. As he aged, though, his battered body becoming less and less cooperative, before the cancer and (suspected) Alzheimer’s set in, Hogan settled into a simple life of hitting balls during the day at Shady Oaks Country Club, having lunch in the grill room and returning home to his wife. He’d had enough of life on the road. Having driven hundreds of thousands of miles in his life, he rarely left Fort Worth. After stepping away from golf and from his golf company, Hogan’s life was relatively unremarkable.

However, one might imagine, Hogan behaved with the same conscientiousness and consideration in paying for a candy bar at a gas station in Fort Worth as he did when being awarded the green jacket. This is the mark of a gentleman, and, indeed, the American gentleman.

Hogan went from being a newsie to being featured on front page of the New York Times, and then chose to live a relatively nondescript middle class life, conducting himself as a true gentleman in each arena. 

When I was younger, (more) stupid, generally inebriated and drawn more toward the fringe than the center, I had an appreciation for the stylistic decisions (I dare say fashion) of one Johnny Depp. I suppose I was intrigued by the bohemian/ pirate overtones coupled with grunge staples, the touch of Old Hollywood and zootsuitery and the way all of the previous stood in opposition to the trendy “this is what my stylist picked out for me” looks popular amongst the chiclet toothed “ready for my closeup” celebrities. 

Obviously, I don’t think celebrities ought to be admired, respected or followed the vast majority of the time, but unless you’ve finally purchased that Wyoming homestead and are browsing a manual on canning and preservation by candlelight, rather than the latest headlines, it’s difficult to not at least have an awareness of what’s happening on silver screens and red carpets. Beyond this, I did appreciate, and do continue to appreciate (albeit to a lesser degree) Depp’s work on screen.  

From the standpoint of the traditionalist, Depp is off the mark about 90% of the time and routinely breaks the most basic “rules,” such as propriety of attire based on context. However, from a “personal style” (whatever that means) standpoint, Depp is successful to the extent that he seems to wear whatever he pleases whenever he pleases and there are consistent elements (fedoras, colored sunglasses, scarves, pattern mixing, an abundance of accessories, etc).

With respect to Depp’s sartorial inspiration, Keith Richards and Eddie Vedder, both friends of Depp’s, are stylistically similar to Depp. Richards, with more of a gypsy bend and Vedder with more of a classic Seattle grunge orientation. These avenues, gypsy and grunge, ought to be travelled with great care or not at all by the common gent.

It might be said that Depp is a man who dresses according to instinct or feel and that (again, in a traditional sense) his instincts and feelings are entirely wrong. Again, from the standpoint of individual/ personal style, he succeeds admirably, although I believe this to be a small victory.

Depp dresses in the repellant mode, similar to a “man repeller” or celebrity replete with baseball cap, large sunglasses and the particular look of fear, discomfort and avoidance one gets when hoping not to be seen/ recognized. 99% of men don’t have the luxury of doing this and must comport themselves in the “attractive” mode, using clothing and accessories as tools of aspiration, rather than insulation.

If he weren’t an actor or musician, Depp would likely be a candidate for What Not To Wear. Latitude and liberty have been granted to poets since Greek times, to be sure, but Depp, in addition to not conforming to the dominant concepts of men’s style, doesn’t really conform to any fixed “style,” save for perhaps, “Bag Man.”

Depp has the bizarre distinction of being both “The Sexiest Man Alive” (in a popular/ traditional sense..i.e. People Magazine) and one of the worst dressed men alive (again, in a traditional sense). The two have something to do with each other: Depp is uncomfortable with his good looks and consciously downplays them with distracting and unflattering clothes and accessories, which surely bring him an element of comfort and security. 

Given all this, one might ask: What are the positive elements of Depp’s fashion? What is adaptable or advisable for the common gent of a bohemian orientation?

Perhaps, not much.

However, I present to you the Johnny Depp Getting Dressed formula for your complete rejection or attempted adaptation/ adoption.

The Depp formula looks something like: shirt + something else (jacket, second shirt, scarf) + >1 ring on each hand + >2 bracelets + fedora/ driving cap/ knit hat + >1 necklace + 1 additional accessory (sunglasses, additional scarf, watch or wallet chain).

Depp wears what he wants to. In an immature way, this is commendable on priority. 10% of his outfits “work” and the rest are largely ridiculous. His appearance is too consistent to not be deliberate and purposeful, which makes it all the more confusing. I’ve attempted to offer a few suggestions as to “why” and “for what purpose.” 

I do believe, however, that the 10% of good outfits largely redeem Depp and reinforce the brand. Basically, Depp looks better when he keeps his clothing choices simpler and lets his accessories make a statement. The more he piles on layers (while not removing accessories), the worse he looks. Additionally, he ought to abandon “dressing up” altogether and be aware that red carpet means black tie 99% of the time.

A few of his better efforts, below.