On the Sweaty Suit

As a lifelong resident of Los Angeles, I’m no stranger to heat waves. Spending many of my formative years in and around the San Gabriel Mountains, I’ve sweated through stifling days and weeks. The last few days, though, have been brutal and I’ve learned new ways that heatwaves can kick your ass.

These past five days have been, by far, the hottest of the year in LA. We had nearly a week where the high never got below 102 degrees at my apartment, and it’s even hotter in some places. It’s a kind of heat that just doesn’t relent. Even at night, you’ll leave your apartment at 10 pm hoping for a touch of relief, only to realize it’s still 96 degrees out. It beats you down day after day, hour after hour, without a minute to chill out.

Before anyone pops off in the comments, though, I don’t care if you live in Arizona, Las Vegas, or Death Valley…those places are godforsaken deserts where living is an affront to God itself and a dangerous showing of the hubris of humanity. And I know what you’re going to say next! “Oh but, Will, Los Angeles is a desert too, bro.” WRONG! Los Angeles is a Mediterranean Climate Zone! There’s even a website called Los Angeles-Is-Not-A-Desert-dot-com! All of this is to say that it sucks when our little Mediterranean city turns into the surface of the sun.

The main realization I’ve come to during this heatwave in particular, and the reason I’m angrily typing this essay is that men’s formalwear can absolutely kiss my ass any time the temperature rises above, say 75 degrees. I’ve been to two weddings this year where the temperature was over 100 degrees…and both weddings were outside. Guess what? That combination doesn’t go great with dress pants, formal socks, a dress shirt buttoned up all the way, a tie, and a suit jacket! Shocking, no?

On the way to our most recent wedding on the surface of the sun, my wonderful fiancé looked at me, saw me profusely sweating, and remarked that there isn’t a good formal option for men when it’s hot out. I turned towards her, in her beautiful, sleeveless dress made of gorgeous lightweight fabric with plenty of ventilation, sweat pouring off my face into the collar that kept everything below my neck stewing like a sausage in a case, and I said…well I wish I could have said something profound or funny but I was so hot and uncomfortable that I just kind of grunted my agreement.

It’s insane that in the year 2024 we still haven’t come up with a suit alternative for days when it’s hot enough that I can’t come up with a witty metaphor. I don’t really care if some guy from 1923 decided what is and isn’t appropriate formalwear. I don’t care that he thought shorts were for children because that guy I just made up is dead and I’m alive, although barely because holy shit, sitting in that suit through the ceremony, watching every other suited person squirm and wriggle as we’re boiled alive in our clothes was enough to turn me into a fashion extremist.

Formal shorts for all, and to all stay cool!