For those who love bowties.
For me it started by seeing my father wear them and how people treated him by how he dressed. I knew I wanted to emulate that and studied him as he dressed and watched him ties his ties. I would practice on his while he was away till I learned to tie one myself. Once I did I showed my new skill off to him and he took me to get my very own that weekend. After that day there was no turning back I was going to be a bowtieguy for life.
It began when i saw them in a store in Washington DC and the salesperson put one on me which was a real joy to wear back in 1992 when only a few wore them. It was only two years ago when i finally caught on the art of tying a bow tie. By that time, i only wore them on occasion. Now it is the only kind of tie i wear and every one of them is a joy to wear.
That is a lovely story, glad you have mastered the bowtie and have chosen to wear them exclusively now.
Bottom line for me is that I've always just loved the look of a perfectly-tied bow tie, not to mention the feel of a stiffly-starched white collar (well, usually white) buttoned way up my neck and throat with a perfectly-tied bow tie snugly nestled against it. Just looks and feels totally dressy and formal.
I have to say there is nothing like the feeling of a tight collar and bowtie.
Man i wish i were that lucky, but now i will find myself getting all suited and bow tied for no reason at all other than to enjoy it.
Bow Tied said:
A little more detail to my bow tied origins. Growing up, it was just my mother, my younger sister, and me. My mother was a lawyer, very prim and proper, usually in very conservative skirted suits, and tried to ensure that my sister and I were just as prim and proper. No problem with me. I was in a Catholic high school where the guys had to wear dress shirts, dress pants, dress shoes, and ties daily. I took the opportunity to wear bow ties - only bow ties-from the first day of high school onward, and whenever I could come up with the slightest excuse I wore suits along with my bow ties. My sister, a year or so younger than me, wore a plaid uniform with a starched white blouse. She was a little more rebellious by nature than I was, but she came through when she had to.
A week or so before the start of my freshman year, on a Saturday, my mother took me shopping for my school clothes. Up until now, I'd been in uniforms all through Catholic grade school, which included a mandatory necktie. We'd gotten a few pairs of slacks, navy blue and dark grey, and dress shirts, white, except for one in powder blue, all of them longsleeved. She decided I needed suits as well. I couldn't be happier. So we got three suits, all three-piece, in navy blue, a dark charcoal grey, and black.
"Okay," my mother said, looking through a rack of neckties, "you need ties."
"I want [i]bow[/i] ties," I said.
"Bow ties?" she repeated. "What about neckties? Don't you want a few of these?"
"Nope," I replied, "[i]only[/i] bow ties."
My mother, while mildly surprised, couldn't have been happier. She was very prim and proper about her own attire, and now her son was, of his own volition, wanting to be dressing up at a higher level than one would normally expect of a kid that age? She certainly wasn't going to argue.
So, we found a store than sold bow ties, not the cheap clip-ons or the pretied bow ties. It was a men's shop that sold the kind you had to tie yourself. We started out buying five. One was a maroon background pattern. There was one that had a kind of teal green background. Three were various degrees of navy blue patterns. One of these, my favorite, was almost entirely navy blue, kind of a navy blue on navy blue pattern.
So we got home that afternoon. After getting settled, my mother had gone upstairs and hung up my new clothes in my closet. It didn't take long before I was upstairs in my room looking through my new clothes. Seeing my new white shirts hanging there in the closet, all crisp and new, I couldn't resist the temptation. I quickly stripped down to my underwear, then took one of the white shirts off the hanger. Slipping it on, I buttoned the cuffs. They were nice and snug against my wrists. I buttoned up the front of my shirt, stopping short of the top button.
Going to my dresser, I got a pair of dark dress socks, sat on my bed, and slipped them on. Then I stepped back to my closet, to where the three new suits were hanging. I took the navy blue suit out, removing the slacks from the hanger, then hanged the remaining vest and jacket on my doorknob. I also took out my black dress shoes and belt.
I put on my pants, then the belt, then stepped into my dress shoes and tied the laces. I then retrieved the navy blue vest from its hanger, slipping that on over my starched, white shirt. There was a full-length mirror on the back side of my bedroom door. Stepping in front of the mirror, I made sure my shirt was tucked properly into my pants, adjusted my belt, then buttoned up my vest.
Stepping back to my closet, I found my new bow ties hanging on a hanger. Picking out the navy blue bow tie, I returned to the mirror. [i]This[/i] was the moment I was waiting for.
Flipping up my collar, I draped the bow tie around my neck. Holding the ends of the bow tie with one hand, with the other I put my collar back down. I made certain that the narrow center of my bow tie was riding as high as possibly up under my collar. Taking a deep breath, I reached up and buttoned my top button, adjusting my collar so it was encasing my throat as high up as possible. Now came my favorite part.
Watching myself carefully in the mirror, I tied my bow tie. I wasn't as practiced as I soon would be, but within maybe five minutes, I had tied my first official bow tie.
Now I got my suit jacket and slipped it on, buttoning the top button of the two buttons. Once more in front of the mirror, I adjusted my bow tie and collar. I was breathing a little heavy, and I could feel my pulse, alot more rapid than normal.
Seeing myself reflected in the mirror,standing ramrod straight, fully suited, buttoned-up, and bow tied for the first time, I [i]liked[/i] what I saw. Feeling my bow tie snugly tied, nestled against the stiffly-starched white collar that encased my throat, I [i]very[/i] much liked what I [i]felt[/i].
I stepped out of my bedroom, turned left, and headed down the stairs. My mother was in the little den she used as a sort of home office. I must have stood in the doorway for ten seconds before she took notice. Looking up, her eyes went wide.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Don't you look handsome!"
I felt myself blush.
"You tied that yourself?" she asked, getting up and coming over to me.
"Yeah," I said. "Not quite perfect, but almost."
"Yeah," she said, tugging on the ends of my bow tie. "You'll get the hang of this the more you do it."
"There!" She got done adjusting my bow tie. "[i]Now[/i] it's perfect."
I looked in the mirror that hung on one wall of the den/office. She'd tightened up the knot and evened out the bow tie on either side of the knot.
"Thanks!" I said. "So you don't mind that I'm dressed up?"
"[i]Mind[/i]?" she looked incredulous. "My kid wants to be dressed up and I'm going to [i]mind[/i]? Not likely!"
That being the case, I stayed in my suit and bow tie all the rest of the day, until it was time for me to change for bed.
So school started, and I was quickly labeled "the kid in the bow tie." I didn't mind the distinction. Besides being in a bow tie every day, I was forever in search of the slightest half-an-excuse to wear a suit to school as often as possible. I quickly found myself on the chess and debate teams, in part because tournament or debate days, whether at our school or travelling to another school, required wearing a suit for the occasion.
It wasn't too far into the school year, maybe the second weekend, that Sunday morning had me coming downstairs all suited, buttoned-up, and bow tied, ready to leave for Mass.
"What are you all dressed up for?" my mother asked.
"Shouldn't church be something we dress up for?" I asked.
"You're absolutely right," my mother said and thinking about it for a second. A few minutes later, she was in one of her suits, and she'd told my sister to put on a nice dress, which her slightly rebellious nature resulted in her whining opposition. It wasn't lost on me, however, that despite her complaints, after we'd arrived home from church she stayed in her modest "churchy" dress the rest of the day. I, of course, remained suited, buttoned-up, and bow tied the entire day.
Before we went home that day, however, we stopped at my aunt's house. For more than an hour my bow tie and I were the object of some fervent oooing and ahhhhing by my aunt and two of my cousins.
So my bow tied status was firmly established on weekdays and Sundays. That still left Saturdays. One Saturday in October of my freshman year, my mother was taking my sister and a couple of friends of her's on an all-day trip, something connected with some club at school the girls were involved in. I got up right before they left. It was one of those nice, cool, cloudy autumn days. Right after they left, I took a shower. I dried off and got back to my room and something popped into my head. Why not? I thought to myself.
Within a few minutes I was in one of my three-piece suits and a bow tie, however, it wasn't long before I'd taken off my jacket. I spent the day doing homework and studying, watching some football, and getting a little housework done. In the middle of the afternoon I walked to the mailbox at the end of the driveway to check the mail. As I pulled a handful of envelopes out of the mailbox, a voice called out behind me.
"My, aren't you all handsome and dressed up!" the voice chimed.
I turned around to see the neighbor from next door. She was probably in her thirties and from what I'd heard my mother say she was a college professor of some sort.
"Oh, hi!" I responded, having been taken by surprise. "Thank you very much!"
"I never see you not dressed up," she said, coming over, her own mail under her arm. "And I just love the bow ties! Most of the professors at my college don't dress as nicely as you."
As she was saying this, she was tugging gently on the bow part of my bow tie. I gulped nervously beneath my stiff collar.
"You tied this yourself?" she asked. She apparently expected a clip-on, me being a kid.
"Of course!" I replied.
"It looks so perfect and even I thought it was one of those clip-ons," she commented. After a little more neighborly small-talk, I went back inside.
So that evening about seven-thirty or so, my mother and sister returned, along with a pizza. Walking in, my mother took a look at me in my suit and bow tie.
"What are you doing all dressed up?" she asked, smiling.
"I'm not in trouble, am I?" I asked.
"No, certainly not!" she replied. "You can dress up like that all you want! What, I'm going to complain that my son wants to be well-dressed in a suit and bow tie?"
So being buttoned-up and bow tied became my natural state, my normalcy. Even my extended family, aunts and cousins mostly, as well as friends of the family, expected me to be in a suit and bow tie. On the very rare occasions that I wasn't, I'd be asked about it.