Tuxedo in Aisle 1

Boy wears tuxedo while running daily errands. He gets funny looks. He starts to enjoy himself. His future as an exhibitionist is sealed.

On Monday, October 7, at 9:30 a.m., I conducted my daily errands dressed in a tuxedo. I went to the drug store, shopped for groceries, and grabbed an iced coffee. The experience started out nerve wracking but soon I was exhilarated, amused, and proud. My mood changed as I watched fellow shoppers violate their own norms because of my presence. It emboldened me, and I might just do it again.

Because I was nervous about the project, I put it off as long as possible. I told myself that the pain of the experience would be fleeting, and that there would be no lasting harmful effects. Still, I could not break myself away from my fear of embarrassment. And even though I knew there was nothing morally wrong in what I was doing, I felt shame.

As I left my apartment, a neighbor stood near my car. She looked at me but said nothing. I wondered if wearing a tuxedo on a Monday morning was no norm violation at all.

I drove to the Rite Aid on Butternut Street. As I walked to the front entrance, a man getting into his car did a double take. Once inside the store, I found it mostly empty. I walked ostentatiously through every aisle, but did not receive even one glance. I bought two items in hopes of getting a response from the cashier. She only smiled politely, and did not ask why I was wearing a tuxedo at 9:45 in the morning. Wegman’s, however, was full of reactions as the grocery shoppers could not keep their eyes off of me.

In the parking lot, I received furtive glances and double takes. When I grabbed a cart, the trolley boy just stared. In the produce section, children pointed at me. Moms and Dads turned around, and tried to redirect their children’s attention elsewhere. Adults eyed me up and down. Surprisingly, no one asked me why I was dressed in a tuxedo. Some people actually looked disturbed by my appearance. Finally, as I reached for a case of Diet Dr. Pepper, a woman said: “You’re the best dressed man here.” I said “Thank you.”

The more people stared, the bolder I felt. I broke out in spontaneous smiles. I could feel that I had upset some people’s morning shopping. The project started with me breaking a norm. But soon, everyone who saw me stared a little too long, or eyed me from head to toe. I had done nothing offensive. Rather, my fellow shoppers were acting offensively. They were all being rude, and, thus, they were all breaking norms as well. I felt like the Pied Piper of norm violations.

Emboldened after Wegman’s, I went for an iced coffee. I walked into a Dunkin’ Donuts filled with retired men talking loudly about Syracuse football. No one turned away from their conversation when I entered. The woman at the counter simply took my order and my money. Apparently, the customers and staff of the James Street Dunkin’ Donuts did not mind a man in formal wear.
The experience was such fun that the next time I go to the store I may not just wear my tuxedo but I might add a little flare - perhaps a boutonnière.