Three and a half centuries ago, an unknown Frenchman did a double-take when he spotted something terribly chic around, of all places, the neck of a Croatian mercenary. He thought to himself, "if a linen scarf tied at the neck can make this dreary fellow look smart, imagine how it might look on me." A year later the cravat, from the French for Croat, was the accessory de rigueur in France, and the fashionable world, as always, soon followed in her steps.Since 1991, the cravat has had a glorious rebirth, and designers have created ties that turn this merely ornamental, totally unnecessary accessory into an object of clear aesthetic value. Designers are expressing in their ties their most flamboyant, whimsical, kitschy, retro, sexy, painterly and luxurious ideas. And men, in a time when "disposable discretionary income" is a usage to be remembered with a shudder and a tear, are going to the best stores and walking away with, if nothing else, a tie or two.
A perennial seller, the tie has become a fashion cynosure. When men aren't investing in new suits they need something relatively affordable to enliven their existing wardrobe and give it a completely new appearance: the tie has been singled out to take up the slack. For a piece of fabric smaller than a ladies' scarf, this is a lot to carry: the tie in question had better be something spectacular and dramatic, almost more than a tie.
Well, the designers have more than risen to the occasion. The Nineties versions, across the board from Armani to Nicole Miller , are declaiming in exuberant profusion, "Hey, look at me!" These statement ties are dead appropriate for a chastened America, which in the Eighties learned the hard lesson of hubris, but is still irrepressible, the strapping adolescent of the world's developed nations, cocky and full of beans, with lots to say. The ties have brio to burn and at $35-$120 make a definite style statement at a fraction of the cost of a new outfit.