We are so immersed in Postmodernism that most people are utterly broken, not just in terms of æsthetics or taste, but in terms of true individual expression. Even otherwise tuned-in anti-Modernism people often fail notice what was plainly obvious to everyone not so very long ago. Watch a movie from the 1960’s and see (after dispatching an assailant violently) the enormous masculine thug Jack Palance fuss over the colour of his tie or the placement of of his hat upon his anvil-like pummelled ham-head. Such a thing nowadays would be perceived as incredibly formal, somehow anti-masculine that he showed the slightest concern for his appearance. To men only fifty or so years back wearing a suit as a matter of daily observance was necessary to be taken seriously as an adult member of Western society. It was a recognized tradition dating back to the beginnings or recorded history that we had a positively grave concern for personal æsthetics, indeed that our sartorial expression counted as evidence of our natural nobleness and predomination as a group. But surely such simplicity as observing fussy dress codes can not have any bearing on our long-term survival or in reversing our Spenglarian decline? Why should I not be comfortable and conformist and wear the trendy neon running shoes with the pointless plastic protrusions with my plastic-fabric tracksuit? Or does being aesthetically pedantic or rigid count for more than we can conceive? The observance of detail, of timeliness, of being particular and fastidious has been almost lost as one of our great group traits. Attention to detail and rigid particularism historically set us apart, and was a condition of our success. Perhaps more than a condition, a major reason.
Sadly, compared to todays sweat pants and shirts with urban graphic designed logos the above actually sounds almost genteel. Indeed it seems a man today who considers for more than a moment the æsthetics of his clothing, or dons anything save the most casual rags, risks insinuation as an invert.