Flag’s Wearing Thin

Patriotism is being choked by excess.

In the exuberance to express national pride and solidarity, simple yet powerful shows of patriotism are being overshadowed by displays that are bloated, grotesque and filled with braggadocio.

In the weeks immediately following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, stunned Americans understandably and proudly wanted to fly Old Glory over their homes and businesses. They attached flags to their car antennas and plastered flag stickers on their windows.

People wanted to display their patriotism on their backs, too. And so flag pins and red, white and blue ribbons soon adorned jackets. Who would argue that these weren’t fine substitutes for the usual shows of wealth and status?

It was so emotional to stand on a downtown street corner and notice that virtually every passerby wore a tiny American flag. It’s still moving to walk through a neighborhood and see all the flags hanging from the houses.

But now the American merchandising machine has churned into high gear, and a garish Elvis aesthetic has taken hold. Escada has a red, white and blue sequined evening gown that looks like something Auntie Mame might yank out of her closet for the Fourth of July. (Of course she’d dye her hair red to match.) Mybeautybag.com is selling Tweeze With Pride tweezers for $22.95. They’re red and dotted with red, white and blue crystals. And, lest anyone protest, a portion of the proceeds will benefit the September 11 Fund. There’s also an eagle sponge on sale for $7.95: “America the Beautiful! Let all your worries fly away while you suds up with our bold Eagle Sponge--America’s symbol of pride! God Bless America!”

No one would dare criticize anyone’s sincere expression of love of country. And it certainly is right and good to honor Americans who have given their lives for their nation. But Abraham Lincoln did not dress like a Vegas lounge act. Betsy Ross did not wield a glue gun. George Washington did not hawk stars and stripes boxers like a carnival barker.

How could teary-eyed patriotism come to this? It begins with T-shirts, fashion’s bullhorn.

Some folks, choosing to state their patriotism more emphatically than through a tiny stickpin, began wearing T-shirts emblazoned with flags. Old Navy had a run on the flag T-shirts that it typically sells to commemorate the Fourth of July. Sidewalk vendors quickly appeared with their own versions. The street retailers were simply doing their job, allowing people to calmly express their personal sentiments with a $5 T-shirt.

Companies such as Polo Ralph Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger--both founded on Americana imagery--also were naturals to answer the call for patriotic attire in shirts and sweaters. The Tommy Hilfiger company, which over the years had strayed into the realm of cheesy pop-star clothing, had just made a dramatic shift back to its red, white and blue roots.

The fashion industry was also quick to make a collective statement. The Council of Fashion Designers of America and Vogue magazine introduced the red, white and blue broken-heart T-shirt. Net proceeds from the sale of the shirt benefits the Twin Towers Fund. Fashion designers and retailers, along with Unite, the apparel industry union, also launched a “Proudly Made in New York” campaign and guidebook. Clothes stitched up by the city’s garment workers have a special patriotic hang tag aimed at encouraging shoppers to support the 60,000 garment workers based in New York.

But with the earnest displays of patriotism, the donations and the pride, came the sequins. The flash. And, yes, it must be said ... the excess. Much of it comes from companies desperate to do something, anything, for the cause. They are making a good-faith effort to infuse fashion and beauty products--their area of expertise--with greater meaning. But red, white and blue slippers from Bonjour Fleurette--”the patriotic slipper,” mind you--are unnecessary. Flag pajamas aren’t any more charming even if they are worn on “Ally McBeal” and then auctioned for charity on EBay.

A line has been crossed. It’s the same one separating proud Texans from those who wear Lone Star bustiers to inaugural week balls. It divides good-natured fans from the goofball fanatics who paint their chests in their team’s colors.

Celebrate America. Fly the flag. But don’t be the guy with stars painted across his forehead.