A Pain in the Neck

It was Wednesday morning, and I was hopping on one foot trying to slip my dress shoes on while eating my breakfast. At the same time, I quickly went through my mental checklist of things I had to bring with me. A wallet and photo ID? In my left pant pocket. Water? In the side pocket of my backpack. Laptop? Also in my backpack. Clothes? A light blue collared shirt, a belt, khakis, and long, black socks that never stayed up. I crammed the last bits of my Korean pastry into my mouth and pronounced myself officially ready for my first day at my science policy internship.

But while I pulling out of my driveway, I realized that I had forgot one very important item.

A necktie.

I quietly cursed whoever invented the damned things and sprinted back into my house to get one. With tie in hand, I jumped back into the driver’s seat, and with a gigantic lurch of the car, I was off.

But my tie-related troubles were far from over. The way my internship worked, I stayed at school for fifth and sixth period and then drove to Ballston during lunch. This schedule, unfortunately, left me no time to actually eat anything. My ingenious solution was to drive with my right hand while I ate a McDonalds Angus Third-pounder with my left. And it worked surprisingly well—I managed to arrive at the National Science Foundation without a killing a single innocent pedestrian. But once I did arrive at the NSF, I realized that I had also dripped grease and tomato juice onto my tie.

It was definitely a desirable situation to be in—first day on the job, and I would be walking in with hamburger grease on my tie.

Later that day, it occurred to me that neckties are probably the most useless item of clothing ever. Think about it—not only are they difficult to put on, but they also flap around when it’s windy and accidentally get dipped into your coffee. They also restrict your breathing and the movement of your neck (as if collars weren’t enough), and even worse, they are a safety liability. Ties can get caught when you close your car door or when you operate heavy machinery, and both situations could result in your subsequent untimely demise. And am I the only one who’s afraid that somebody will grab my tie from behind and strangle me to death?

Then I thought about it from an evolutionary standpoint. Peacocks have impractically large tail feathers, right? And that makes them susceptible to predators and early deaths. But it’s worth it, because their huge tails help them attract lady friends with whom they can mate. So maybe neckties also make men more appealing to women? A popular TJBash quote gives both supporting and conflicting evidence:

“Mr. Miller: Do you know why I wear a tie?

Mr. Miller: It's actually to cover the buttons on my shirt so that young women don't fantasize about unbuttoning them.

Mr. Miller: The irony is, look where it's pointing...”

However, after surveying my friends who were of the feminine persuasion, I found that a majority of them were more attracted to males who were not wearing ties. (The exact question I asked was: if I presented you with a guy wearing a tie and his identical twin, who wasn't wearing a tie, who would you pick to take on a date?) One survey participant remarked, “Tie to me says SERIOUS! BUSINESS LIKE! Or I-am-wearing-a-tie-because-I-am-a-hipster-douche.” Another participant said, “I mean, it'd look nice and stuff but I'd think he's trying too hard.” And almost every single participant asked me whether or not the tie matched with the guy’s shirt.

So as it turns out, ties are not only uncomfortable and inconvenient, but they also decrease our chances of picking up women. Why, then, do we still wear them? Are they a symbol of class? Is there a historical reason? Or do we just secretly like being able to spill food onto thirty-dollar pieces of silk?

I don't think we'll ever know.