Interpreting the New York Mayor's Style Choice: The Garment He Wears Tells Us Regarding Contemporary Masculinity and a Shifting Culture.

Growing up in the British capital during the noughties, I was always immersed in a world of suits. They adorned businessmen rushing through the Square Mile. You could spot them on dads in the city's great park, kicking footballs in the golden light. Even school, a inexpensive grey suit was our required uniform. Traditionally, the suit has functioned as a uniform of seriousness, signaling power and professionalism—traits I was expected to aspire to to become a "man". Yet, until lately, my generation seemed to wear them less and less, and they had all but vanished from my mind.

Then came the newly elected New York City mayor, Zohran Mamdani. He was sworn in at a private ceremony dressed in a subdued black overcoat, pristine white shirt, and a notable silk tie. Riding high by an ingenious campaign, he captured the public's imagination like no other recent mayoral candidate. But whether he was celebrating in a hip-hop club or attending a film premiere, one thing remained mostly unchanged: he was frequently in a suit. Relaxed in fit, modern with unstructured lines, yet conventional, his is a typically professional millennial suit—that is, as common as it can be for a cohort that rarely chooses to wear one.

"This garment is in this weird place," says style commentator Derek Guy. "Its decline has been a slow death since the end of the Second World War," with the real dip coming in the 1990s alongside "the rise of business casual."

"Today it is only worn in the strictest locations: weddings, memorials, and sometimes, court appearances," Guy explains. "It is like the kimono in Japan," in that it "fundamentally represents a tradition that has long retreated from daily life." Numerous politicians "wear a suit to say: 'I am a politician, you can have faith in me. You should vote for me. I have authority.'" Although the suit has traditionally signaled this, today it enacts authority in the attempt of gaining public confidence. As Guy elaborates: "Because we are also living in a democratic society, politicians want to seem approachable, because they're trying to get your votes." In many ways, a suit is just a subtle form of performance, in that it enacts masculinity, authority and even closeness to power.

Guy's words resonated deeply. On the rare occasions I need a suit—for a ceremony or black-tie event—I retrieve the one I bought from a Tokyo department store a few years ago. When I first picked it up, it made me feel sophisticated and high-end, but its slim cut now feels outdated. I suspect this sensation will be all too familiar for numerous people in the global community whose parents originate in other places, particularly developing countries.

It's no surprise, the working man's suit has fallen out of fashion. Similar to a pair of jeans, a suit's silhouette goes through trends; a particular cut can thus characterize an era—and feel quickly outdated. Consider the present: looser-fitting suits, echoing a famous cinematic Armani in *American Gigolo*, might be in vogue, but given the price, it can feel like a considerable investment for something likely to be out of fashion within five years. Yet the attraction, at least in some quarters, endures: recently, department stores report suit sales rising more than 20% as customers "shift from the suit being daily attire towards an desire to invest in something special."

The Symbolism of a Accessible Suit

The mayor's go-to suit is from Suitsupply, a Dutch label that sells in a mid-market price bracket. "He is precisely a reflection of his upbringing," says Guy. "In his thirties, he's not poor but not extremely wealthy." To that end, his mid-level suit will resonate with the group most inclined to support him: people in their thirties and forties, university-educated earning middle-class incomes, often discontented by the expense of housing. It's exactly the kind of suit they might wear themselves. Not cheap but not lavish, Mamdani's suits plausibly align with his proposed policies—which include a rent freeze, building affordable homes, and free public buses.

"It's impossible to imagine a former president wearing Suitsupply; he's a luxury Italian suit person," says Guy. "As an immensely wealthy and grew up in that property development world. A power suit fits seamlessly with that tycoon class, just as attainable brands fit well with Mamdani's constituency."

The legacy of suits in politics is extensive and rich: from a former president's "controversial" tan suit to other national figures and their suspiciously impeccable, custom-fit sheen. Like a certain UK leader learned, the suit doesn't just dress the politician; it has the power to characterize them.

The Act of Normality and Protective Armor

Maybe the point is what one scholar calls the "performance of banality", invoking the suit's historical role as a uniform of political power. Mamdani's particular choice taps into a studied understatement, not too casual nor too flashy—"conforming to norms" in an inconspicuous suit—to help him connect with as many voters as possible. But, experts think Mamdani would be aware of the suit's military and colonial legacy: "This attire isn't apolitical; scholars have long pointed out that its modern roots lie in military or colonial administration." Some also view it as a form of protective armor: "It is argued that if you're from a minority background, you might not get taken as seriously in these white spaces." The suit becomes a way of signaling legitimacy, particularly to those who might question it.

This kind of sartorial "changing styles" is not a recent phenomenon. Even iconic figures previously donned formal Western attire during their early years. Currently, certain world leaders have started exchanging their usual military wear for a black suit, albeit one lacking the tie.

"In every seam and stitch of Mamdani's image, the tension between belonging and otherness is apparent."

The suit Mamdani chooses is highly significant. "Being the son of immigrants of Indian descent and a progressive politician, he is under pressure to meet what many American voters expect as a marker of leadership," says one author, while at the same time needing to navigate carefully by "avoiding the appearance of an elitist betraying his distinctive roots and values."

Yet there is an acute awareness of the double standards applied to suit-wearers and what is interpreted from it. "This could stem in part from Mamdani being a millennial, skilled to assume different identities to fit the occasion, but it may also be part of his diverse background, where adapting between languages, traditions and clothing styles is typical," it is said. "Some individuals can go unnoticed," but when others "seek to gain the power that suits represent," they must carefully negotiate the expectations associated with them.

Throughout the presentation of Mamdani's official image, the tension between belonging and displacement, insider and outsider, is evident. I know well the awkwardness of trying to fit into something not built for me, be it an inherited tradition, the society I was born into, or even a suit. What Mamdani's sartorial choices make clear, however, is that in politics, image is never neutral.