Memorial Day weekend marks an unofficial change of the seasons. And while pools will open to the public in the swamp town of my birth — Washington, D.C. — nothing cuts through the rising temperature and looming political disaster like a pointless debate over fashion.
A number of supposed fashion faux pas have recently caused no end of outrage in the nation’s capital. Sneakers in the White House! Shorts in the Senate! It’s enough to cause monocles to pop out, pearls to be clutched and grown men to faint like damsels whose corsets are laced too tightly. But in no way should this be taken as any more a sign that style is on the wane than the usual crimes against sartorial ethics typically seen in Washington. And claims that an absence of wing tips in the Oval Office marks the death of decorum in America are wildly exaggerated.
Footwear aficionados have had to find the will to survive multiple assaults on their tender, sensitive eyes lately. Most recently was a meeting on the debt ceiling between President Joe Biden and congressional leaders where there was at least one area of bipartisan agreement on display. House Speaker Kevin McCarthy, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries were all spotted wearing dress sneakers in the Oval Office. Adding insult to injury, Jeffries, McCarthy and Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer were all also wearing brightly colored, patterned socks.
Chaos ensued.
New York Times culture and styles reporter Guy Trebay quoted several high-ranking members of the menswear media elite in a piece that asked: “Do Dress Sneakers Belong in the Oval Office?” The question elicited a resounding no from Yang-Yi Goh, style director at GQ, and Jim Moore, the magazine’s creative director. The lack of a hard sole on the various Cole Haan-made shoes was seen as a sign of disrespect for the dignity of the office, both in regards to the physical space and the role Biden holds. And the fact that the dress sneaker “masquerades as a hard-soled one,” as Trebay put it, makes them the “worst possible choice,” Goh said. There are no bonus points awarded for “trying to pass this tech-y monstrosity off as a proper dress shoe,” Goh sniffed.
Forbes columnist Michael Peregrine was a bit more forgiving of the shoes as a personal choice but still argued against their presence in the Oval Office. Writing with the titans of industry who regularly read Forbes in mind, he concluded that there “remains a ‘respect thing’ in play — respect for people, for positions, for institutions. Leaders will recognize that in certain circumstances, how they choose to dress and how they choose to present themselves may well affect the respect they hope to receive and the message they choose to project.”
And unlike when Biden hosted members of the cast of “Ted Lasso” in the Oval Office in March, the shoes at the debt ceiling meeting couldn’t be passed off as being on trend. Show creator and star Jason Sudeikis is a known sneakerhead, so his choice of shoes — and their style level — was at least on-brand. (That didn’t stop the criticisms: “4 guys. No ties, 3 pairs of sneakers in the OVAL OFFICE. This country is going to hell,” political commentator Saagar Enjeti griped at the time.) And there has been at least one set of defenders of the much-sneered at sneaker in the White House: the bipartisan congressional Sneaker Caucus, which is apparently a real thing that exists.
Less entertaining, though, was the much more visceral reaction to the very casual look that Sen. John Fetterman of Pennsylvania sported at a recent press conference. Speaking out about the debt ceiling impasse, Fetterman stood with — well, towered over — four other Democratic senators. The others wore suits and ties; Fetterman was dressed in a hoodie and shorts.
The reaction among conservatives was especially harsh. “Truly unbecoming,” tweeted Republican Rep. Lauren Boebert of Colorado. Washington Examiner columnist Christopher Tremoglie went so far as to call Fetterman’s lewk “a cringeworthy moment in our nation’s history and, quite frankly, trashy and classless.” The reaction to Fetterman’s getup is hilariously classist for members of a party that derides Democrats for being snobby coastal elites. His low-key uniform has been part of his political brand for years before making it to Washington and has been heralded as a hallmark of his ability to relate to the more rural areas of western Pennsylvania. If anything, Fetterman’s fit is a much less performative version of class politics than the fake twangs or awkward state fair visits that other politicians lean on to feign authenticity. All views about what does and doesn’t constitute proper attire for high-profile individuals are wholly subjective and reflective of their current era. Much like with people who try to police the status quo over how certain items of clothing are gendered, there’s no universal, historical standard for what constitutes “respectable attire.” It’s not as though conservatives are lamenting the lack of knee breeches, wigs and stockings that were in vogue during George Washington’s presidency. As such, we have to consider that the projection of morality or ethics onto fashion is a two-way street. Fetterman is projecting outwardly that he is still the same person he was before his election last year. His critics can likewise be seen as signaling their own values — that politicians must dress a certain way to earn their respect — and seeking validation from others who share their distaste for Fetterman’s politics. And while I’d personally be sure to be wearing a suit and tie with a hard-soled shoe if I was ever invited to partake in a meeting at the White House, I would be doing so specifically because I am aware of the disadvantage that I would likely face in such a scenario. Unlike the dress sneaker-wearing McCarthy or Jeffries, I would feel the need to overcompensate and take on the appearance of someone who belongs in that room. But when it comes to five of the most powerful men in the world, I would much rather focus on the contents of the dealmaking taking place among them than on what they happen to be wearing on their feet at the time.
Hayes Brown is a writer and editor for MS NOW Daily. 
