How to Dress Yourself More Better for Tango, My Man—and Also for Life

Because why learn the part when you can look the part?

Let’s just get this out of the way: I dance Argentine tango.

Despite what some family members have asked out loud, Argentine tango is not a weird sex thing. It is intensely intimate at times, yes, and sometimes it is over way too soon. I also know what a lot of married women’s shampoo smells like.

But, in my years of experience, every one of my fellow dancers has been—and has remained, for the duration of the dance—fully clothed.

Sometimes, that is the best thing I can say for my fellow dancers’ wardrobe choices: that they are, in fact, wearing things. Also! I can confidently say, just by looking at these dancers and with no other context, that they have dressed themselves.

Which dancers? Well, one of the things I love about tango today is the way the community is prying apart binary gender roles. Followers are not always women, and leaders are not always not-women. Space for queer tango is growing, as is space for trans people in tango, and space for cis-gendered people to role-switch.

This culture of growing acceptance makes me balk at criticizing any particular demographic for its underwhelming tango fashion but it’s men.

It’s always men.

Everyone Else in tango recognizes that how they present themselves reflects their care and dedication to the dance, and that doing so with even marginal intent improves their chances of getting to dance. At the very least, Everyone Else reduces the likelihood of embarrassing themselves with the equivalent of showing up to senior prom in a baggy paper sack.

Men, I am increasingly convinced, cannot be embarrassed, even though they should be.

#notallmen, of course. Like, not me. I can be embarrassed. That’s why I have such a snobbish attitude about dressing well for this most complex, subtle, rebellious yet also gentrified dance. My snobbishness stems from my discovery that I can pay someone, for less than the cost of a new shirt at Ross, to clean and press my existing ones.

Are crisp shirts the main reason I get dances? No—they are the only reason. Pressed shirts add a certain, how do you say, sense that you don’t always live out of a laundry basket. Everyone Else finds this a desirable quality, or at least a baseline requirement.

(Also, I respect when a woman declines to dance with me and I do not speak poorly of her. Not even on the internet. But this reason is probably secondary to my shirts.)

Thus, I swear that men, used to getting a very great deal of what they want with very little resistance, could actually get more dances and jobs and loan forgiveness and such in all areas of life if only they would put any effort at all into their wardrobe.

So, here is my expert guide for How to Dress Yourself More Better for Tango, My Man—and Also for Life, divvied into four tiers according to your level of entry:

Basic Bitch Tier

• Wear clothes that fit.

  • Not clothes that used to fit.

  • And not clothes you want to fit.

  • And definitely not clothes that fit in the sense that a sandwich fits inside a Toyota Camry.

  • Clothes that fit function well with the shape of your body as it is.

  • Bonus points if you figure out the right orientation for stripes to make you look better than you actually do, without the strain of sucking in your gut.

• Could you wear those clothes golfing? Then don’t wear them to dance.

  • Don’t wear them anywhere at all, really.

  • Not even for golfing.

• Does the shirt tuck in? Then tuck it in.

  • Unless it’s a shirt not meant to be tucked.

  • Or a style that doesn’t demand it.

  • But when in doubt, tuck it.

• And then wear a belt.

  • A real belt, with a buckle.

  • Also with loops.

  • Then, adjust the belt to fit. A droopy belt makes us imagine what else droops.

• We all love that you did that 5k fun run or saw the Steve Miller Band in concert.

  • But don’t wear the tee.

  • Unless you’re attending a function with the word “picnic” in the name and the event will be held in daylight from start to end, best to avoid screenprints altogether.

Cheat Code: You don’t need a big budget to own yourself. Find your style at the thrift store. You never have to worry about your clothes going out of style if you’re the one bringing them back into style.

Manning-Up Tier

• You might think your stonewashed jeans are stylish.

  • They are not.

  • Unless bolo ties are standard issue where you’re going, ditch the denim.

  • But not for shorts. Dear Tim Gunn, not for shorts.

  • Slacks are not that hard, my man. And they’re comfy.

  • Especially if you buy them four inches too large in the waist and have someone take in the waist to the appropriate size.

  • Then your legs have room to actually move.

  • Yeah yeah, skinny pants are sometimes in. Don’t care. If you can manage skinny pants in public, you don’t need this expert guide.

• Shirt come untucked? Tuck it back in.

Gentleman’s Tier

• Find your colors.

  • And yes, black and white are colors.

• Consider your ability to move.

  • Will you be plucking clothes out of your various crevasses whenever you stand up?

  • Can people picture you naked without using their imagination?

  • Do you want them to?

  • (No. You don’t.)

• Long sleeves rolled up look classier than short sleeves.

  • I am the author of this guide, and my opinion here is gospel.

  • But you do you, babe.

  • That said: If you wear short sleeves and look like somebody’s—anybody’s—dad on vacation or a stock photo for casual Friday, please return to the Basic Bitch Tier.

Ooh La La Tier

• Grooming is not just for horses.

  • A little care for your hair, everywhere it can be seen, will stand you a lot apart from your fellow man.

  • Yes, even that one lone hair.

  • Especially that one.

• Accessorize.

  • Damn right, accessorize. Rings or cuffs or watches or cute socks.

  • Anything, really, to infuse some personality for all those people who can’t see, or don’t care to see, the work you put into your car or other male personality extender.

  • I wear ascots, for instance.

  • So you choose something else.

Basically, my man, my men:

We all need to show up better in the world, in tango and out. Sure, we need to show up as trustworthy friends, and protectors, and partners, and leaders, and firemen and astronauts and civil servants and stuff too. But dressing the part is both essential, and easier. It’s literally the least we can do—putting ourselves together to give the impression that we care.

If enough of us do this, the next great differentiator can be actually caring. But my hopes for us aren’t that high. We can’t even keep our shirts tucked in.

---