[Steeltrap]

...the outgoing mayor of San Francisco, who always dressed appropriately:



washingtonpost.com
Mr. Cool: Willie Brown Put Panache in Politics


By Robin Givhan
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, December 12, 2003; Page C01


With Tuesday's mayoral election in San Francisco, in which the splendid Willie Brown, 69, passed the torch to his protege Gavin Newsom, the standard of attire in the world of politics dropped precipitously.

After nearly four decades in California public life, Brown was barred from running for reelection because of term limits. Although there are those in San Francisco who would complain that Brown's managerial style was lordly and that he was given to rewarding his buddies and catering to business leaders and the moneyed, his sartorial style was above reproach.

The new mayor wears a suit well, and at 36, he is quite dashing, with Hollywood good looks. If he were not married, he'd make an excellent candidate for "The Bachelor." Still, his style is no match for the smooth elegance of Brown.

It is well known that the outgoing mayor, who arrived at City Hall eight years ago, favored expensive Brioni suits, one of which can cost a man several thousand dollars. But most everyone can reel off a list of folks who spend dearly on their clothes and still manage to look as though they dressed in the dark. It is the care with which his suits were tailored to fit and the panache with which he wore them that set his clothes apart. Their price tag was secondary at best. Brown always looked freshly polished, as if a valet had just taken one last swipe at his shoulders with a lint brush.

His suit jackets typically remained formally buttoned and they hung without a ripple or a bump. His shirts never had a wrinkle. And just the right amount of shirt cuff -- a half-inch or so -- was visible beyond the sleeve of his jacket.

Brown liked to wear a dress shirt with a spread collar, which was the perfect frame for his wide cheeks and narrower jaw. His ties were never boorish or ostentatious. But they weren't dull either. He chose four-in-hands in rich colors, and the silk fabric gave off a sheen that announced their quality.

Brown was particularly fond of Borsalino hats, and he wore fedoras with a modest brim that was dubbed the "Willie Brim." There is something about a man in a hat -- a formal hat, not a baseball cap -- that announces his confidence and suggests that he is well aware of his stature -- or at least certain of his own potential. A hat, quite simply, is dapper.

Nothing about Brown's clothing style was flashy. His suits were well within the conservative aesthetic framework of politics. They were dark, sometimes pinstriped or with a subtle windowpane plaid. Occasionally he'd turn up in a coffee-color one.

But Brown's display of style was a lesson in looking polished, appropriate and authoritative without relying on a banal uniform. He was an officeholder who knew how to wear a turtleneck and a sport jacket and make them look like the most natural and obvious ensemble rather than a studied informal costume.

It was a pleasure to watch Brown step out in some exquisite mix of patterns and textures, to see if his pocket square matched his tie or simply complemented it. Brown got gussied up for his constituents. He was evidence that politicians choose to look stilted and bland. It is not the nature of the business.

Brown grew up poor in Mineola, Tex., a rural town not far from Dallas. Even as a kid with little money, he took pride in his appearance. He once told of how he used to order stylish shoes from the Sears catalogue and paid for them over time. But often, when he'd finally manage to get them, his feet had outgrown them. It didn't matter; he wore the shoes anyway.

It is worth noting that Brown came from humble beginnings and that he is black. Indeed, he was San Francisco's first African American mayor. Black men have a long history of dressing with great care, of making sure that whenever they faced an often hostile public, their appearance, at least, was above criticism. Style was their way of announcing themselves to the world, of demanding that they be taken seriously. It was a way of declaring themselves gentlemen and displaying their dignity.

For Brown, an attorney and a veteran politician, his résumé could speak as eloquently as his clothes. But there is nothing like the impact of a visual.

Even during the height of the business-casual trend, the folks at City Hall -- taking the lead from their boss -- were formal, understated and sharp. Business suits were the expected wardrobe. Indeed, before a visitor met with the mayor, one of his aides offered this advice: Dress well.

Once, when Brown was scheduled to present a city proclamation to Oscar de la Renta after the designer's appearance at the city's Academy of Art College, the mayor disappeared.

He'd left the show early because the room was too steamy. Wouldn't want to sweat through any of that fine Italian tailoring.

By the time Brown returned, the show, the presentation, everything was over and de la Renta was climbing into a car for the airport.

Brown quickly chatted up the designer and mentioned the sweltering conditions. De la Renta teased: It's the mayor's job to take the heat.

That may be true. But Brown also knew the power in always looking cool.



© 2003 The Washington Post Company