While the 1980s were known for wretched excess, there were important sartorial lessons from that time as well. First, there was the idea that image matters — the notion that there was an art to being successful and it began with looking the part. Casual Friday was far off in the distance; athleisure wear did not exist; and trophy sneakers basically meant a pair of Air Jordans. A man’s status was measured in working buttonholes and pick stitching. There was no glory in nerdy dishevelment, in tweedy absent-mindedness. There were no young tech gods wearing hoodies.
Gloss was king. And Manafort is a glossy, glossy man — one who, according to the Associated Press, has favored custom suits and the clothing from Bijan, a ridiculously expensive Beverly Hills boutique known mostly for being . . . ridiculously expensive.
What makes Manafort stand out in a lineup is not the lavishness of his clothes; he’s not exactly walking around draped in Balmain. It is the patina of bright, shiny success that they exude. The kind of success that was not defined by intellectualism, artful inventiveness or blue-collar scrappiness, but the kind born out of smooth talk and slippery ideas. He personifies that old notion of “the suits” being all-knowing and all-powerful. Just a little bit untouchable. They are the kings of the world.
And even when their world is under assault, the gloss doesn’t crack.