Although certain of the foregoing qualifications must needs be lacking, nevertheless this timorous pen, with more trepidation than courage it must be confessed, begs to call attention to a few obvious details in masculine attire that caricature, more or less, peculiarities in the forms and features of men.
To be sure, in the matter of head-gear man is not conspicuously at the mercy of burlesquing ribbons, flowers, and feathers, and he has fewer opportunities than women to make himself ridiculous, yet a few suggestions regarding certain shapes of head-gear for certain types of faces, applicable to women are equally applicable to him.
The same rule that applies to the women of the wedge-shaped type of face applies to the man of the wedge-shaped type, as may be seen in sketches Nos. 75 and 76. It is obvious that the youth depicted in No. 75 detracts from the manliness of his face and emphasizes the pointed appearance of his countenance by wearing a hat with a broad brim projecting over his ears. This style of hat appears more frequently in straw than in any other texture, but the effect of a wide, projecting rim is the same in any material. No. 76, it is plain, improves the appearance of the long, slim-faced man. An alpine hat would not be unbecoming to him, the high oval of the crown forming a balance for the lower part of the face.
The man with a pugilistic chin should endeavor to select a hat that will not make his heavy jaw as prominent as does the stiff derby, in No. 77.
A soft alpine hat, or one somewhat of the style of No. 78, improves his appearance. The high crown and wide, gracefully rolling brim counter-balance the weight and prominence of the jaw.
Apropos of the minor details of man's garments, the button as a feature of clothes has never been fully done justice to. It is a sustaining thing we know, something we can hang to, fasten to, and even tie to. That properly placed buttons contribute to our mental poise and therefore to our physical repose, is hinted in that absurdly engaging story, anent the smart boy who was the envy of his spelling-class, because he always stood first. You remember, no doubt, that an envious but keen-eyed classmate observed that the smart speller worked off his nervous apprehensiveness by twirling the top button of his coat as he correctly spelled word after word, day in and day out; and how the keen-eyed one played the part of a stealthy villain and surreptitiously cut the button off the coat. And do you remember the dramatic ending? How the smart one on the fatal day sought to "press the button" and finding it gone, lost his wits completely and failed ignominiously? Many of us when we have lost a sustaining button, have we not felt as ridiculously helpless and witbenumbed as the smart speller?