14 Style Rules GQ Editors Learned From Their Dads

There’s this great photo of my dad, Matt, and his younger brother, Chris, outside of my dad’s freshman dorm at Wesleyan University in the fall of 1972. My dad’s wearing this tan safari jacket, dark-rimmed glasses, and dark blue jeans; my uncle’s in a bright checkered plaid flannel and brown cords. Both of them have more hair than I’ve ever seen them have in my lifetime. This week, I FaceTimed the two of them to talk about the photo and how their sense of style has (or hasn’t) changed.

My dad and his brother grew up camping, hiking, rock climbing, and canoeing, and, as my dad put it, “My approach to style was to create a sense of being outdoors.” When they started their careers, they had to adopt new uniforms: My dad, a physician working in public health, had a working wardrobe of Oxford shirts, sweater vests, ties (when necessary), and Lands’ End trousers; when he got home from the office in the evenings, he’d swiftly change into an earth-toned T-shirt, cargo pants, and hiking shoes. My uncle Chris, who founded a web-based company during the ’90s dot-com era, was an early adopter to the “tech disruptor” uniform and only ever wore jeans (“nice-looking jeans, no holes!”) to investor meetings. “It’s the only time in my life I’ve actually been conscious about image,” he said. “I needed to portray that, ‘I’m not one of you, and if the company wants to do anything on the internet, this is what it looks like.’”

Now that my pops and my uncle are both several years retired from their office jobs, they’ve each managed to condense their respective wardrobes—utilitarian, comfortable—into about 18 inches of closet space. Chris, who lives on a farm in rural Vermont, wears threadbare T-shirts, Darn Tough socks, and pants treated with tick-repellant permethrin. My dad, who loves exploring the walking trails of my hometown, wears plaid button-ups, cotton tees, and flannel-lined L.L.Bean jeans. Looking back at this old photo, my dad realized that he’d spent “the first 20-some years of my life being able to dress how I wanted to dress. Now, as a retired person, I’m able to dress more like I dressed then all the time.”

Relative to my dad’s zen practicality, I’ve always worn clothes more like my mom; our respective closets are exuberant, abundant, and overstocked with consignment gems. But whenever I can’t figure out what to wear, I think about my dad’s (and my uncle’s) approach to uniform dressing: Pick out whatever shirt makes me feel most grounded and go from there. And, if I must, I’ll wear practical shoes. —Eileen Cartter, staff writer

Don’t Overthink It

My dad’s style motto has always been K.I.S.S.—keep it simple, stupid. He follows that philosophy by steadfastly committing to the wardrobe staples he loves most: Vans Authentics, all manner of vests, and the Brooks Brothers shirts he buys on eBay. —Bowen Fernie, visuals editor