CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN.
THE CHANGE TO “CIVVIES,” In the hotel lounge I saw a face which —to use a paradox—was strangely familiar. I could not “place” it. I passed on, hesitated, torn between a rude desire to regard the stranger closely artd a sense of the conventions. Suddenly I felt convinced that I had “cut” an acquaintance, if not a friend. Still ignorant of his identity, acting under an irresistible impulse, I swung round and approached him, hold out my hand, and murmured, “You will excuse me. I did not remember you at first.” “And you don’t remember me now,” he said laughing. “You arc not the first one. 1 shall have to get myself introduced again all round. It’s-the fault of these ‘civvies.’ ” A light broke in upon me. “Ah, yes I You are Brown son. I’ve never seen you before except in uniform. But I ought to have known you. What a difference a change of clothing does make!” “At first,” he said, “it was amusing to observe the puzzled look in people’s eyes, and I used to have little mental bets with myself as to whether they would turn round, whether they would speak, or whether they would merely pass on. But now it is getting boring. 1 feel that lam another person. I have changed my identity. It is like a story by H. G. Wells.” “That’s not the worst of it,” he went on. “I really think that not only my physical appearance is changed but my character also; and that when I doffed the uniform I doffed certain qualities that it represented.
“Do clothes make the man I think they do. I’ve certainly lost some of that feeling of smartness and alertness that I used to have. I am certain that in this civilian rig-out I should show the white feather on the slightest provocation. I won the D.S.O. not because I’ve got any bravery in me, but because I could not play the coward in khaki. You think I’m exaggerating. Perhaps I should not generalise—l merely speak for myself.
“But I assure you that for myself I am conscious that I said good-bye to many virtues when I said good-bye to my Array clothes. You put them on and you take them off. It’s just as if they were not really a part of you.” I looked incredulous, but he grew warm in defence of his theory. “I tell you.” lie said, “that 1 have felt flabby, timid, without enterprise, since I have changed my clothes. I do not even carry myself erect. lam morose. None of that brisk optimism of the Army. Jaded. Gloomy. No capacity for enjoyment. Any little thing used to amuse me. Now lam blase.”
“Oh,” I said, “it’s just the change. You are not used to the new life yet,” He shook his head sadly. “I wish I could think so,” he replied. “But I know it’s the clothes. I never believed it before, but now I know that it’s the clothes that make the man.”— (By Sis!ey r Huddleston, in the Loudon Daily Mail.)
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TH19190531.2.51
Bibliographic details
Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 16448, 31 May 1919, Page 5
Word Count
518CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN. Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 16448, 31 May 1919, Page 5
Using This Item
See our copyright guide for information on how you may use this title.