Good Sh*t From Hawaii: Aloha Shirts for Aloha Friday

In Honolulu, the alternative to the business casual of denim shirts, is the Aloha Shirt. In fact, it is less an alternative than it is an institution in its own right. For as long as I can remember, long before "I.T." specialists anonymously buzzed the hallways of quiet law firms in their Dockers and jeans shirts, there was the Aloha Shirt, worn daily by bankers, CPAs, and all other professionals. My father wore one to Equitable five days a week. The Aloha Shirt, especially those made by venerable local clothiers have always been acceptable business wear downtown.

I, on the other hand, took a long time to warm up to the idea of colorful patterned shirts as anything other than tacky, even in this Aloha State. Of course, I changed my attitude, especially when I realized that many tasteful patterns could be had. Add to that the comfort of cool short sleeves in our tropical climate and the fact that many of the nicest ones are made right here in Hawaii, and I'm ready to defend the Aloha Shirt against the sniping of any sartorialist.

To the right you find the classic Reyn Spooner, an almost always muted affair, unencumbered of the many garish colors associated with the Aloha Shirt of the cheesy variety. This one was given to me by my sister because it depicted outrigger canoe paddlers, and I love it. Pull this shirt over your head, tuck it into a pair of tropical weight dress pants or, of course, khakis, and you can hit the board room, deposition, or country club without fear of being underattired. Just don't go to court in one, unless it's a settlement conference in chambers. Going on the record is still a suit and tie occasion, as well it should be. But the Reyn Spooner is about as Establishment as they come around here. In the late fifties, Reyn McCullogh, a businessman from Catalina Island, California, saw the potential that jet travel and statehood offered Hawaii. Ruth Spooner was already a master seamstress making the best shirts and surf trunks in Waikiki when Reyn brought his venture here. Like the formation of a law firm, both their names graced the letterhead and Reyn Spooner was born. Now, whether Trad or Prep or modern, and you don't want to swim in a world of cheese, the Reyn Spooner is the Safe Bet of Aloha Shirts, .

To the left is the Kahala*, since 1936 another member of the venerable Battleship Row of Aloha wear. The Reyn Spooner may be a safe bet brand, but there's nothing safer in pattern than blue and white, for sure. Not having any court appearances, I wore mine this past friday, so that I could seamlessly go straight from work to happy hour. Aloha Friday existed long before silicon valley execs could even imagine casual friday. In Honolulu, every friday is casual and to a lesser extent monday through thursday is a sort of friday. Matched with some pegged chinos and my Jolly Roger belt (thanks John) and Weejuns, I like to think I've got that travelling surfer vibe from The Endless Summer going on.

So far two shirts, two brands and I have yet to detect the stink of cheese.

Manuheali'i is the name of a label from the Windward Side of Oahu, in Kailua, a place that some locals still consider the other side of the moon rather than just the other side of the island. Although I've lived here for almost 40 years, I still get lost in Kailua, because I'm from over the mountains. And Kailua is no one horse town, either! Manu is a relatively new brand, so new in fact, that they don't tout their age on their website. My wife seems to love their patterns and has gifted me a trio of their shirts. The one below is my favorite, a pullover (half placket) with tanglefern print. Quietly sprinkled into their design is their script logo. My wife has taken the liberty of gifting the exact same patterns to herself and our son. The two of them are the only people on the planet I would ever wear matching clothes with, and with these Manu prints, I must say it's still not an overload of pattern.

But really, the best reason to wear an Aloha Shirt, in my book, is because you want to "kick back" and relax, maybe have a mai tai at the Halekulani Hotel House Without A Key or enjoy some finger food and stingers with the Jetsons at Honolulu's last rotating restaurant, The Top of Waikiki. If that's the case, don't even worry about business casual. Just do what Honolulu does best: casual casual.

What follows are some of my fun Aloha Shirts, ones I probably wouldn't wear to the office, but ones I'm proud to wear to anything from fancy cocktails to baby lu'au. To the right is my Primo Beer shirt by Go Barefoot, another gift from my wife, this time for Valentine's Day while we were engaged. This shirt usually goes untucked with Duck Head shorts or my Levi's. I've gotten many compliments from locals who remember this Hawaiian beer from the sixties and seventies when it was the choice of everyone from fishermen to politicians.



Next is another favorite of mine, another Reyn Spooner with nifty graphics featuring the Disney superheroes, the Incredibles. Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl, Dash, and Violet the Invisible Teen are all depicted, as are second-bananas like Frozone and the Edith Head-like "Edna Mode". Man I loved that movie. If you've never seen it (and what OnceABachelor with a kid hasn't?), it's cooler than Mad Men for sure, and an absolute must-see.
Next is a sweet kodachrome-toned job, again by Reyn Spooner, but designed by deified sixties surfer Phil Edwards. This pattern celebrates surfing's early days, with the names of some noted surf spots like Makaha and Waimea Bay printed right on the shirt and mixed in with some classic surf images. This is a tough shirt to pair with anything other than very faded blue jeans, although I can get away wearing fancy linens and a pair of dainty Coach loafers in tan leather with it. No socks, please. Then my wife is putty, but that's another story.


And last but not least is my famous (at least around here) party Aloha Shirt, although it's not made in Hawaii. I bought this orange and green Attitude Adjuster in Bora Bora, when I was accompanying students on an environmental awareness exchange through the islands of Tahiti. This shirt gives new meaning to the term Go To Hell. It really lets the rest of the party-goers know what your intentions are. This shirt is Strong Medicine, and I don't wear it often, but I love it.

I will square off against any clothes horse in its defense, and in defense of all of my beloved Aloha Shirts.

* By the way, all the photographs from the Kahala website were taken by a photographer friend of mine, Joss Descoteaux, who specializes in paddling and surf themed photography.

I Hate to Admit This

Twenty five years ago, I was an arrogant high schooler who thought he knew everything about everything. I knew that nobody over 30 could ever be reasoned with, that nothing good ever came out of my school, and that I would never come back to Honolulu to live. And I knew that quality music was never broadcast over the commercial airwaves. Back then, when I drove a 20 year old Ford Mustang with a factory radio, broadcast was all I could get, because I was loathe to cut into the original dash to install an aftermarket cassette player. I was forced to listen to the local "album-oriented rock" station. I scoffed at most music that I heard. Even this song. Especially this song.

I remember this song playing over and over my senior year and I thought I hated it. But it was the right song for that time in life. And I found it hard to ignore.

Don Henley crafted a perfect song when he wrote and recorded The Boys of Summer, and I was too immature to acknowledge it for over a decade, maybe more. It's a song full of ghosts and loss. The snare is unwilling to let go and the music that drapes around the lyrics is translucent, like lace on a closed coffin. It is adolescent and worldly at the same time.

Now I'm 42, loving life in Honolulu, and I am proud that my kindergartener son has started at my alma mater.Top: My son strolling the same walkways I walked on his first day of kindergarten. He's preppy in the RL Polo, pegged cargoes, blue argyles, and skechers loafers. And Speed Racer backpack.
Bottom: His homeroom, with Ms. G, who was there when I was.

He is in for thirteen years there, and I am just over the moon that he got accepted and wanted to go there. Hopefully, by the time he graduates he's more mature than I was as a senior so he doesn't miss some universal truths that I missed.

Go here for the original video, which can't be embedded out of YouTube.

L.L. Bean 10 inch duck boots

"You cannot expect success hunting deer or moose if your feet are not properly dressed" wrote Leon Leonwood Bean, founder of the L.L. Bean brand. He designed a rubber boot with leather ankles, to provide the kind of shodding that scoffs at inclement weather. I just bought my first pair, 10" tall and thinsulate lined, this week and had them shipped out to Honolulu.

I don't know what's more astonishing, that they came out to Hawaii or that I haven't owned a pair before. I was such a Bean devotee back in college and I had fully bought into the East Coast preppie aesthetic that I owned just about every icon in the Bean catalogue except the duck boot (as they are called, rather than the "Maine Hunting Shoe" as Leon Leonwood named them). Inexplicable since - the Bean field coat, the Norwegian cardigan, the Baxter State Parka, the blucher, the Hudson Bay blanket notwithstanding -the L.L. Bean duck boot is the sine qua non of the brand.

So although the last time I set foot on the eastern shore was when a democrat was in the white house I bought a pair last week, in anticipation of a moose hunt on the Kenai Penninsula of Alaska in September. I figured it was a good enough excuse.

The Canon: Guidebooks for Bachelors

There are many books that help lay out the road map. These are just a few of them.

The Preppy Handbook by Lisa Birnbach - What do I know about being preppy? Not much really, coming from Honolulu, Hawaii. Being educated at an Episcopalian prep school here made no difference, especially once I got out to the East Coast. And certainly, this book, like many of its ilk, is more tongue in cheek than anything else. But it does set standards: eat, drink, be merry, accumulate only fine things and don't discard them, make friends for life. Like any guidebook, humorous or not, some advice can be ignored. It's always best to dress properly, but pink and green is no longer the solution.

The Modern Man's Guide to Life by Various Contributors - I found this book in an Urban Outfitters store on M Street in Georgetown in 1988, and despite containing some dated material now, I'm glad I made the impulse purchase. In fact, this book, coupled with Adm. William Stearman's 1989 farewell address to his seminar class on National Security Decision Making (a subject for future entry here, for sure) certainly informed my young adult life. This book contains everything from how to skin a squirrel, how to grease a maitre'd for a prime table, metric conversion tables, you name it, it's in there. Some knowledge I still use, such as the quick recipe for pasta carbonara.

The Dangerous Book for Boys by The Brothers Iggulden - I just bought this book really, and I've only thumbed through it. Costco had stacks and stacks of them and I couldn't resist it's heft and the urgent tomato red cover. It promises afternoons with my son filled with scheming over toy soldiers, building periscopes, and classifying dead insects. We'll see if it delivers, and if not, it's out of the Canon.