The 1970 film “Love Story” is noteworthy for introducing the term “preppy” to a wider American audience. It also introduced the popular catch phrase, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
Yesterday on Ivy Style’s Facebook group I mused, “And trad means never having to say…?” Some clever comebacks followed, and so here we are on the front page of the site with a new Battle Of The Wits contest, something we haven’t done for a couple of years.
Here’s how the contest works. Use the leave-comment feature to enter by finishing the phrase “Trad means never having to…. “ (I chose “trad” because it’s a monosyllable like “love,” sounding close to the original quote.) One entry per person; you’re on the honor system. Depending on turnout, Ivy Style staff will choose a dozen or so of the most clever responses, then use a random number-generator to select the winner. Contest ends Saturday at midnight Eastern time.
To get you in the spirit, here are some responses so far on Facebook:
… where can I find the nearest Men’s Wearhouse?
… is this wrinkle-free?
… yes, I’m wearing these pants.
… it’s all the rage in Paris.
The prize is a custom shirt in the style of your choice kindly donated by Harvard alum David Mercer of Mercer & Sons. — CHRISTIAN CHENSVOLD
Trad means never having to say “I really need to change up my Suiting Game.”
“that’s soo-o-o-o last season.”
Trad mean never having to answer “…does this color make me look fat?”
TRAD MEANS NEVER HAVING TO SAY… Does this come in black?
Ha, you got me there.
Trad means never having to say…I think double knit will make a comeback.
Trad means never having to say, “Brooks Brothers’ suits finally have some style.”
Trad means never having to say “Do I look like a Mafioso in these tassel loafers?”
Trad means never having say, “Does this man-bun make my head look fat?”
Trad means never having to say “I’m sorry for being under-dressed.”
Trad means never having to say, “I like yours, too.”
Trad means never having to say, “I’m headed to the mall.”
Trad means never having to say “I wonder what will be in next season”
TRAD MEANS NEVER HAVING TO SAY… is this denim salvaged?
Trad means never having to say…I need new clothes.
Trad means never having to say “Please excuse my sweatpants”
Trad means never having to say, “I like how these plastic stays keep my shirt collar so flat.”
Trad means never having to say “Tweed? Would you wear it?”
Trad means never having to say, “Ronald Reagan is my style icon.”
Trad means never having to say “Muffy? Muffy who?” or”Whatever happened to WASP 101?”
Trad means never having to say, “I sorry my cologne offends you.”
Trad means never having to say “What’s the best place to find a clip-on bow tie?”
Trad means never having to say, “I’m having a bad collar roll day.”
Trad means never having to say you’re sorry…
…for looking better than everybody else.
Trad means never having to say Ed Hardy.
SE jumps to an early lead!
Trad means never having to say… do you think I need to dress up for this?
Trad means never having to say, “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours!”
Trad means never having to say, “Does this tee shirt look good with my jeans?”
Trad means never having to say die.
Trad means never having to say “Catcher in the WHAT?”
(Ugh. I see now that only one entry per contestant is allowed. Very well: please accept my “…’The Catcher in the WHAT’?” entry.
Frankly, it means never having to say …. anything.
Trad means never having to remember what designer you’re wearing…
Trad means never having to say “who would want a shirt that has to be ironed?”
Trad means never having to say, “What’s the third track on Steely Dan’s Greatest Hits?”
Trad means never having to say, “Really, feel it. You’d never have guessed it was polyester.”
Damn, BRB. I was about to post “polyester.”
Trad means never having to ask, “Are my unbuttoned collar points too sprezzatura or no?”
Trad means never having to say, “Thom Browne’s suits are a liiiittle too full for my taste.”
Trad means never having to say, “Does this belt match my suspenders?”
Trad means never having to say, “I wonder what I should wear to Pitti Uomo?”
Trad means never having to say “Who took my can of spray starch?”
Trad means never having to consult TOPH or a Trad/Ivy/Preppy style blog about what to wear.
Trad means never having to say “What’s Madras?”
Trad means never having to worry about whether you really need another navy blazer.
Trad means never having to ask what Trad means.
Trad means never having to decide between Weejuns and flipflops
With thanks to Patrick Wellcorn for inspiration:
Trad means never having to decide what color blazer to wear.
… never imagining, or surely uttering the phrase, “the [green, pink, aqua, etc.] color of our ties and vests matched that of the bridesmaid dresses!”
Where’s my Crocs?
…never for a moment doubting one’s sartorial superiority to the vast majority of mankind
Trad means never wearing anything that would appear in the Men’s Fashion section of the NY Times.
Trad means never caring when he is accused of adhering to “stale formulas” when he when he prefers blazer, khakis, loafers, blue OCBD, and rep tie.
Trad means never having to measure the length of one’s collar or the width of one’s trouser leg, cuff, lapel, or necktie.
Trad means never having to…
…resort to wearing fleece.
Trad means never having to be an Ivy purist, never feeling obliged to wear an OCBD shirt, never having to apologize for wearing a straight point collar white shirt.
With all due respect to your other advertisers, Trad means never having to look further than Mercer & Sons.
Trad means never having to ask why–of these two fine gentlemen–Mr. Boyer is Trad and Mr. Billax is not.
Trad means never having to ask…does this match?
Where are my polyester knit pants?
Trad means never having to decide whether your piercings and your tattoos clash.
Trad means never hearing, “Did you get dressed in the dark?”
Trad means being able to get dressed in the dark.
Trad means never having to say, “Does this come in teal?”
Trad means never having to say (or have cross one’s mind) … “sprezzatura”.
With apologies to WFB, of course. If the word is in our minds, we’re already poisoned.
Trad means never having to say, “that’s hot.”
Standing athwart fashion, yelling Stop.
Trad means never having to say, “Honey, have you seen my camo cargo pants?”
Trad means never having to say: “me so sprezzy”. (“Me love dub-monks big time?”).
Being Trad means never having to respond to one of AEV’s rants.
Trad means never having to say “what’s the dress code?”
Trad means never having to say your sorry … for reading a men’s clothing blog.
Trad means never having to stray into new territory.
Trad means never confusing style and fashion.
Trad means never having to wonder why NYC is preferable to Fullerton.
Trad means never having to say…”I’m Sari.”
Hey, I had a great time in college! But yeah it’s a little different here.
Trad means never having to say–
“Your trousers should have a single break.”
Trad means never having to use words like “cool” and “hip”.
Trad means never having to say “I’m satisfied with clothing retailers!”
“…sorry I’m not wearing socks.”
…I have an early morning flight. May I borrow your tracksuit?
Trad means never having to say…. have I really changed that much over the years?
Trad means never having to say “I just renewed my subscription to GQ”.
Trad means never having to ask “What’s the difference between Ivy, Preppy, and Trad?”
Trad means never having to say: “Trad style magazines in Japan? You must be kidding!”
So, is there a winner?
OK, we had some zinger responses and we had some ones suggesting the contestant won’t be writing jokes for late-night TV hosts anytime soon.
Since we had so many entries I gave everyone a shot at winning. Using the random number service at Random.org, the winner was Novelburg.
Two suggestions, not nesessarily exclusive:
1) Let us have your personal opinion on which ones were the zingers.
2) Let us vote.
Trad means never having to settle for a random number.
And here I thought I had a fighting chance.
{sigh}
Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit.
@Armscot
Actually, Trad means never having to settle for random anything.
Trad means never having to say you’re sorry…
…for wearing…
…clothes that are over and above fashion,
which one is thus happy to wear for decades on end,
repairing them as and only when absolutely necessary.
So we’ve replaced meritocracy with mediocracy? With all due respect, the “winning” entry didn’t even properly respond to the prompt. FAIL.
Destined to fail. I can’t win either way. There will always be sour grapes.
If I choose the wittiest all the losers will disagree with my choice and say it wasn’t clever. This way everyone had a chance to win. Putting a handful to vote would be a bit too time-consuming, I think.
On the plus side, the winner hasn’t claimed his prize after two emails, so everyone still has a chance!
Christian
You couldn’t possible expect anything different, could you? There will always be sour grapes.
Here’s one more:
Trad means never having to be mistaken for a ‘goodfella.’
Trad means never having to wonder what Trad is.
Trad means never having to ask what a 2/3 roll is.
Trad means never having to say “does this come in polyester”