"It's over all too soon, only an hour or so, but for that brief shining space of time I've traveled far far away from the gritty New York streets and been a part of a purer, golden world, and when I emerge from that space I feel cosseted and validated and loved."

^ That's a feeling I've had.  And I've gotten it as well in other similar situations...theater/musicals/symphony performances where everybody's still pretty much expected to look good (though some still get in without, to be sure), the spring ball with the big band at my college where "elegant attire" was required and campus safety would actually block anyone from entering who was not at least wearing jacket and tie,  a certain hotel bar on the shore with a Bobby Short imitator, or even watching the scene in the 1982 movie "My Favorite Year" where the maitre'd  at the Stork Club greets Peter O'Toole, while firmly steering bomber-jacket clad Mark Linn-Baker towards the coat check girl saying "a proper jacket, please."  It adds to the value of the experience in some way...mostly intangible but that quote does make a good shot at describing it.

A sense of situational appropriateness is really something I can appreciate. It really doesn't fit well with the postmodern view of life, where there is often no such concept.

Though I suppose there is another pleasure inherent in such activities.  One comment replying to the link Marc posted says her husband is "really uncomfortable in suits" so they don't go to places where they're required. I take a largely private and unexpressed joy in creating or being a part of situations where people who are uncomfortable in suits feel uneasy.  Not so much in the professional as social environment.

I noticed in the comments in the link it looked as if there were quite a few Cruisers and maybe a Kav or two (as in the lady who told about how the waiter smashed a tray of glasses on her boyfriend's head after he took off his jacket at the table).

Taking the jacket off at the table (except maybe in stifling heat) is a practice I just despise. Somewhile back my wife and I were at the finest restaurant in our city, and I noticed a large percentage of the men had done just that. I don't know why: If they were flush enough to eat there, they could damn well afford jackets that fit...or pay the dry cleaning bill if they were piggish enough to spill food on them. I am honestly at a loss to conceive of any other reason why a man should remove his jacket at the table.

Four Seasons restaurant.  One of the owners, Alex von Bidder, IIRC, has his suits made by Andrew Ramroop on Savile Row.

These self-righteous proclamations are appalling:

"We are a generation of casual diners," she said, "bred to enjoy good food in a relaxed setting... old world regulations just don't work in this millenium."

I envision someone in mid-range sunglasses, talking on their cell-phones, with a hybrid car outside, dining at an expensive restaurant.

Last edited by Incroyable (2008-04-24 12:36:09)

I think restaurants are better off these days handling this topic with a softer touch.  Much as we might like to see slobs clothes-lined at the door, social trends and economics often hit a restaurant too hard. 

The house coat is great idea.  It should fit reasonably well so as the patron may eat without undue interference, but could be visually set apart.  Maybe a bright kelly green for them all.  How about some downright awful thrifted jackets?  This would introduce a bit of humor into the affair, and might even encourage people not to take themselves so seriously.  If people insist on acting like juveniles, then initiate them into adulthood like any other pledge, newbie, freshman, or what have you.

A restaurant can also have different seating sections.  Put the man-child in a room with a big TV.  He won't notice a thing.

Last edited by Incroyable (2008-04-24 21:02:40)