There is a look for every occasion – a suitable colour and style for every moment and mood. But, for the male lawyer, constructing the right look for a legal occasion comes down pretty much to the right choice of tie. I ponder this often as I try to select the right strip of dangling colour to brighten an otherwise grey pinstriped day.
How might menswear sales assistants respond, I wondered, if I gave them the task of selecting just the right tie, for just the right occasion, for me – a lawyer who seemed just a little bit wrong.
I sat in a cafe, wearing a suit and open-collared white-shirt, staring at the ties in the David Jones window. I steeled myself. I walked out of the cafe.
I walked back into the cafe, paid for my coffee, and walked out of the cafe.
Inside David Jones, I started perusing the ties. My first victim approached.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Why, yes, could you help me pick out a tie?”
“Of course. Do you have anything in mind?”
“I do, actually. I’m a lawyer, and I need a tie to wear to a divorce mediation. My client will never settle, but we need to look like we’re there in good faith. I need a tie that says: ‘I’m firm, but fair… but not all that fair’.”
“You need something distinguished.”
“I was thinking of something a little more nuanced.”
“Well, a red tie might be too aggressive, and you don’t want anything floral or they’ll think ‘this guy’s a pushover’.”
“That’s it, now you’re getting the idea!”
Together, we walked through the racks.
“Let me know if you see anything you like,” said the sales assistant.
“You’re the expert,” I said. “I’d much rather you picked one out.”
He picked up a black tie with lavender stripes and held it up to my chest.
“What do you think?”
“Hmmm. It’s a mediation and I’ll hardly get to talk so I’ll probably get pretty bored. I think my tie should say ‘I’m paying attention’. This tie looks like it’s asleep.”
“What about navy blue? It’s professional, but workmanlike.”
“Oh, yes! A workman’s tie! Maybe navy blue with a flash of fluorescence? Like I’m wearing overalls and a safety vest?”
We settled on navy blue with white stripes.
Proudly sporting my new tie, I walked to Myer’s menswear department.
“Excuse me,” I said to a sales assistant. “I’m a lawyer from a stuffy law firm. I usually wear ‘distinguished’ ties like this one, but I need a new tie for a speech I’m making about a lawyer who’s leaving. I want to do a number on him. I need a lampooning tie.”
“Well, that’s a very detailed description.”
“Thanks, I thought about it a lot.”
She suggested a light green tie with white polka dots.
“Do you have anything slightly more hilarious? Something with a cartoon on it, perhaps?”
“We don’t do Disney.”
“What about Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law?”
The best she could manage was a bright pink cartoon hibiscus. I wrapped it around my neck and walked to a boutique menswear store. Inside was an old man with a tape measure around his shoulders. I took off my hibiscus tie and walked in.
“Do you have any ties?”
“Certainly, sir. Over this way.”
“I’m a lawyer,” I said. “I’m on my way to court for a guilty plea. I need a sincere-looking tie. A tie that says ‘I’m sorry’. And really means it.”
“Is it for your client?”
“Oh, yes, good idea! I need a tie for my client! And something for me. Our ties could be matching!”
“No, sir, that will never do. You need to be serious and solemn… What’s the judge’s favourite football team?”
“Manly Sea Eagles would be a pretty safe bet.”
After much agonising, and debating of team colours, we settled on a grey tie for my client and a maroon tie for me. I made my purchase and the shopkeeper saw me to the door.
“So, you’re a lawyer,” he said, as we parted ways. “What sort of law?”
“All sorts,” I said, filled with admiration for my new ties. “I feel I am the right lawyer for almost every occasion.”