It’s never my intention to gratuitously flaunt my immense and constantly shifting privilege. But when it comes to robes I am a true partisan hack. I’ve owned many types over the years – linen, seersucker, wool, silk, cotton, flannel. You name the material, and chances are, I’ve had it draped over me while fixing a hot pot of coffee. But I’ve never once worn a robe to work. The farthest I’ve traveled beyond my capacious home is the curb, to take out the trash, or my backyard, to check on the “weed situation.” But I don’t want to the store for a carton of milk donning a robe. That is not who I am.
So while many fierce critics our judicial branch focus narrowly on their opinions and rulings, I choose to go elsewhere, into the realm of fashion. They wear robes to work – that’s enough for me to dismiss everything they say with, like a holiday hot dog, both pleasure and relish.
In England, while jurists wear robes, they also wear wigs to make the whole outfit a kind of costume. That makes it fun walking into court every day. The black robes are ugly and boring, lacking all the clean lines and historic resonance found in each fold of a vintage toga.
You want to be taken seriously in 2022, respected at home and abroad? Lovely. How about putting on a pair of nice slacks and a nice rep tie. Since when do supposed conservatives dress like the late libertine, Hugh Hefner? It’s puzzling to say the least.
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