NASA built a dome on the isolated slopes of a Hawaiian volcano, where six people lived on a simulated Mars mission for a year. They wore space suits when they went out. Inside, they enjoyed six bedrooms, one bath, kitchen, pantry, science lab, solar power, preserved food, and an Internet connection with a 20-minute delay (just like on Mars). The dome even has a TARDIS, though it’s out of order.
Trump’s suits really do suit him. They are cartoonishly plutocratic, historically accurate Eighties power suits. They are lumpily rendered emblems of success (also the name of Trump’s fragrance) that absolutely add to an aura so many seem bewitched by. Clothes maketh the man, and all that.
Yet while Trump’s suits are great for Trump, they are terrible for businesses that depend on the world’s executive classes wearing them too. For his emergence as the most rolling-news, front-page prominent avatar of the two-piece couldn’t come at a worse time for a business that is already suffering.
Suits are my standard apparel for business travel. They’re reasonably comfortable, and I don’t have to decide what to wear. We’re a dwindling breed, we suit-wearers. I don’t see a lot of suits at conferences, and most of the suits I do see are well-tailored and dapper. “Dapper” is not a word people would use to describe me in a suit. “Rumpled” is a more apt word.