The Long and the Short of It

At least five times a year every undergraduate hears the chestnut about the freshman who wore a coat and tie to breakfast one morning--and just that. It seems that he was determined to carry out University regulations to the letter. Whether or not this story is true, dining hall biddies have been so concerned this spring about keeping the undergraduate well-clothed that the incident is easy to believe. Another slightly less plausible explanation is that the cleaning biddies have communicated their perennial aversion to shorts, acquired from their habit of sweeping around those strewn on bedroom floors, to the dining hall staff. At any rate, the biddies are opposed to Bermuda shorts and are forcing their inhibitions on Harvard undergraduates. Housemasters, long defenders of good taste in dress, obviously do not realize what is going on in their own dining rooms. They should act quickly to prevent biddie clothing taste from becoming still more domineering--lest John Finley return from Oxford next fall to find floral patterns appearing by mandate on Eliot ties.

The most authoritative canons of taste will not defend the dining hall staffs in their war against Bermuda shorts. When worn no longer than twenty-three inches from the waist and no shorter than two inches above a clean kneecap, even Brooks Brothers will advertise shorts in their store windows. Nor is there any justifiable objection from those who dislike bare legs. Socks, when worn properly, are no more than than three inches below the knee. At best--or at worst--depending on one's sartorial Weltanschauung, five inches of flesh is exposed.

Housemasters well deserve their reputation for staunchly upholding good taste in clothing. Witness last week's example, when the Masters' Council stamped out the Adams House attempt to drop the coat and tie rule. They should act equally fast in revoking the biddies' prohibition of shorts in the dining halls. The biddies' actions, Housemasters must agree, are obviously short-sighted.