Men in Vests

If you’re in some form of law enforcement and you’re not allowed to carry a weapon, chances are, you wear a vest.

Think about it, Traffic marshal (Verkeersbegeleiders)—check! Community safety officers (Handhaving)—check! First aid responder (EHBO)—check. No, no, no, I’m not done; Street Coaches, Crossing Guards, Volunteer Security at festivals, Parking officers. I could go on, but you get the point. If you’ve had little-to-no training. If you have utilities attached to your belt. If you have a signet on your sleeve. If you’re being asked to hold back the tide of human egocentricity, then I’ll bet you ten bucks that your uniform is topped off with nothing less than… a blazing yellow vest.

I'm not trying to be controversial. I think vests can be a useful piece of clothing; if I were on a SWAT team, I’d definitely wear a vest—a bulletproof one. If I were on a sinking ship, a life vest is exactly the way I’d go; hell, even if I was headed to a Peaky Blinders costume party, I would say to myself, ‘Pull on a vest, Upson.’ But aside from these exceptions, I don’t see any reason to sport this contradictory clothing item.

Is it a jacket or a singlet? One you wear when you’re really cold, the other when you’re starting a gang in South Central L.A. I mean, a sweater is in between a T-shirt and a jacket; everyone gets that. That’s a logical step, but to combine either end of the warm-cold spectrum in one clothing item is insane, or is there a percentage of the population that has really warm arms? If that’s the case, why do most clothes cover them? Shirts, blouses, sweaters, jumpers, hoodies, frocks, cardigans, coats, jackets, kaftans, kimonos, and even capes—and we rarely wear capes (outside of the aforementioned costume party.)

Take a breath. Calm down! This isn’t Ragebait. I’m not saying no one should wear a vest! I want people with medical training to be visible at festivals, likewise, the motorbike cameraman on the Tour de France. Vests are sometimes appropriate. All I’m saying is wearing vests is like mud-wrestling—there’s a time and a place.

My brother wears a vest, and we’re still on speaking terms, but he is a lawyer, and lawyers need to find creative ways to discharge their throbbing wealth. What better way than superlative clothing? Need more proof? Here’s a pic of Jeff Bezos sporting one. Surely, if anyone can afford sleeves, it’s the world’s richest man

So, why, when we invented sleeves some time ago, do men—and let’s face it, it’s mainly men—still insist on wearing vests? The answer is obvious. It’s because vests are endowed with power! Take a regular guy in cargo shorts, give him a vest, and all of a sudden, he can direct traffic. He can tell government officials in a Range Rovers where they’re allowed to park, all by dint of his reflective clothing. Take him on a school trip, and all of a sudden, Shy-Dad from the PTA is yelling, “We move on my whistle,” like a Field Marshall. Bring him to an airport and add a pair of glow sticks, and the same guy can direct a frickin’ Boeing 747.

We’re not the first primates to show authority by blazing colours on our torso. When the silverback gorilla reaches maturity (at 12 years old—around 20 years earlier than his human cousins), the hair on his back and hips turns reflective silver. Suddenly, Chad from the corner nest has status in the troop. Could some of the younger males take him in a fight? Probably. But it’s irrelevant, because it’s not Chad keeping the peace—it’s the social compact. The colour is just a signifier.

So, if you enjoy scolding children, directing things with a sweep of your hand, or rolling your eyes at reasonable questions, you may want to consider a volunteer position that comes with a vest. Also, on the off chance there’s a spontaneous costume party, you’re golden!