Which way does the belt go?

Belt up 3 by sazztastical

Lately, when I was putting on my belt the other day, I noticed that the text on my belt was upside down. I was shocked. I never thought that I was wearing my belt wrong. In fact, I was convinced that I was wearing my belt correctly. So, I sought the approval of official sources.

Sadly, there is next to nothing written on the subject of how to wear a belt correctly. I searched my usual etiquette sources, but couldn't find anything to speak of. In desperation, I searched for military dress codes. The wonderful thing about the military is that everything is covered, down to the last detail.

In reviewing the latest release of the U.S. Army's Wear and Appearance of Army Uniforms and Insignia (Army Regulation 670-1), the Army's take on the belt is that the tipped end should be on the left for men, on the right for women.

Does that make it dogma? Not really. While the Army is quite strict about how its personnel should present themselves, that doesn't make them authoritative in the arena of etiquette and manners. However, it certainly makes me feel better about my belt.

By the way, belt and suspenders together are not okay. One or the other.

Where's your handkerchief?

empty suits by paul goyette

In medical school, I decided that I needed a handkerchief. I consulted my local etiquette expert, who graciously approved of some unadorned, patterned, white, cotton handkerchiefs. Since then, my collection has exploded to 12 or 13 now. I've lost count, as I have also lost a few.

The reasons for carrying around a handkerchief are many in number and elegantly summed up by none other than Miss Manners, but for those who would like my take on it, here it goes.

When I was young, I went to a private school where we wore a blazer every day, and my mom made sure to tuck into my coat pocket a wad of tissues, whether I was sick or not. It took me over a decade to realize that these tissues were not for me, but were to offer to others. A gentleman did not go out into the world without having some sort of tissue product.

In Korea, there is a very pragmatic reason. Most public bathrooms lack both toilet paper and paper towels. Many people in Korea carry around a packet of toilet paper and a handkerchief to dry hands after washing. In the Western world, handkerchiefs are for wiping noses and blotting tears.

The rule is that a gentleman should carry two handkerchiefs. One is for personal use. The other is to offer to others. So, it is a good idea to keep one clean, neatly folded, and easily accessible should the need arise.

Med school was when I realized that people cry a lot, and for many different reasons. Sometimes, it is from sadness, sometimes joy, sometimes allergies. And the tissue, although pragmatic, is a poor substitute on these occasions. Nothing feels more empty than handing someone a box of tissues. It feels much more meaningful to offer a handkerchief, an item so perfectly suited to the task.

So, whenever I see someone crying, I offer them my handkerchief. In my mind, it is the only suitable tool for the wiping of tears. As a result, I have lost several handkerchiefs. I have to admit, it hurts a little to lose one, since the average cotton handkerchief runs about $2-3, but at least I can sleep at night knowing I've done my gentlemanly duties.