Tag Archives: tradition

Colonial noose

“New Zealand male lawmakers are no longer required to wear a necktie in parliament after the rule was dropped following a Maori MP’s protest, calling a tie a ‘colonial noose’.” (Reuters)

I’ve always hated neck ties. What kind of society are we in where we teach young boys that, to be formal, you must tie a noose around your neck and make sure it is nice and snug?

What a ridiculous fashion accessory.

I wore a tie almost every day for 2 years in China. As a principal there, it was an expectation. I wear one once every one to two months here, only when I am entering a meeting where I feel it is important to be formal, such as when I’m representing my district, or my schools in a formal way.

If I can avoid wearing a noose, I will. I know others that wear them all the time. I don’t judge them in any way, it’s fine if they want to, choose to, like to wear them. But I get no pleasure in wearing them myself. I don’t feel dressed up in them, I feel constricted. I feel like an animal in a choker collar.

The only time a tie should be worn is at a costume party when dressed up as someone from a time long past. Or maybe at a ball or Galla, like wearing a cummerbund with a tuxedo. Beyond that, I’d love to see the ‘colonial noise’ disappear from regular formal wear.

A 30 year tradition

It was either Christmas Eve 1989 or 1990 and I was home from universtiy for the holidays. My friend Ross and I had yet to do any Christmas shopping. We drove to a huge mall with a restaurant, ordered lunch and had a few beers, then started shopping. At first we shopped together, but that wasn’t working so we split up. This was the pre-cellphone era so we made plans to meet in an hour. At that point we talked a bit about our purchases, gave each other ideas, and planned a second meeting.

I don’t remember if we split up again or just stuck together after that, but we ended up back at the restaurant, ordered coffees, and then started being brutally honest with each other about how good (and bad) we thought our purchases were for our family members. This resulted in a return or two, and some more purchases, before eating again and heading home.

By 1993 I was living in Vancouver and the commute to Toronto was a bit too far to make Christmas Eve plans with Ross. I have spent a few Christmases ‘back home’ and sure enough we still kept the tradition going, but we’ve celebrated this day many more times at a distance. So, every Christmas Eve morning I get a call from Ross. Every Christmas Eve for 30 years. And hopefully for 30 more.