You may find this hard to believe, but one primitive tribe with which I'm familiar mistreats its women in the following manner: No matter how hot the temperature gets, the women must cover their bodies from their throats down to their toes.
What's more, however high the humidity, no less than four layers of material are bound tightly around the women's necks, and their feet must, at all times, be encased in heavy footwear.In addition, a rather shapeless outer covering, often made from wool, extends from their shoulders to their hips. Such garb is dreadfully uncomfortable in the heat of summer. But it does disguise the body's shape, thereby, presumably, discouraging lascivious thoughts among members of the opposite sex.
Terrible and sexist practices, no?
OK, I lied. The tribe I'm talking about is not primitive, at least not by the usual measures. It's our society right here in the U.S.A. And I'm not really describing the plight of women either. I'm talking about men.
Around this time of year, as the mercury pushes into the 90s day after day, isn't it clear that the American male dress code is brutally restrictive?
In fact, if women - or any other diverse "community" in our midst - were forced to bear the midsummer heat in high-collared shirts, neckties, jackets and leather shoes, it would provoke not merely anthropological curiosity but outrage and protest.
Were there really such a thing as a "men's movement" - or even a movement that seriously battled ungendered sexism as the feminists once promised to do - its members would demand that males be liberated from the wearing of stifling suits in the dog days of August for the sake of society's twisted notion of "decorum."
Understand, I'm not so radical as to suggest that we fellas should slip into sundresses. But why have the fashion designers never offered a hot-weather variation on the kilt, a garment that doesn't look at all sissyish?
Why has Seventh Avenue never marketed the konga, a cotton wraparound-type garment traditionally worn by men in Africa, guys who have no fear whatsoever of looking like runners-up in an Ethel Merman look-alike contest?
So as not to end on a bitter note, I'll mention that Donna Karan's new collection does at least begin to head in a more emancipated direction: It includes a blue pinstripe suit worn with shirttails untucked and a tie pulled well away from the throat.
Come to think of it, that's pretty much how I've been dressing for years. Wait till my wife finds out it's become fashionable.