Hayyan Salim Haidar

… my Ties

                                              Chapter 1 in the Series

Trodding along the Ladder of Life

 

     Years pass by, habits say bye, and we wonder why !

     No ties?  Yes.  I have gone through my years avoiding, as much as possible, all kinds of ties.

     On the body: no rings, bracelet, chain or else.  My habits: invariably drink coffee, tea, soft drinks, in mornings and breaks, or stronger ones during afternoons or evenings; food preferences, no ties, enjoy it all.  Relationships with others: family, friends, work or leisure, take it easy.  My hobbies, travels…

     My only ties: be sincere, correct, on time…

     Nevertheless (I still cannot figure out why they had to stick “never” to a “the” followed by “less” just to say “but”.  Anyway), nevertheless, I had a leaning, called penchant in French, for ties, and their accessories, comfortably resting in pockets.

     And… Trodding along the path of fashion, as fashion, or better said “UnFashion” “had it”, the way trends and themes are drifting, with torn Jeans worn under Topcoats, Tuxedos and Evening Dresses garnered with tennis shoes, now known as sports shoes, Frac embossed with colonial shirts, Smoking suits matched with T-shirts, and the list of “Discrepancies” (whatever it may be called) is long and still degrading.

     Ties were retired, gradually, from the Über Talk of the Town down to an Unten status, degraded from Lists of Elites, disappearing more and more from men’s necks of all ages, at all times of the day and night, in all types of venues.  The Widowed Pochettes are now seen hanging out one, two or tri-tongued or pyramided, in one horizontal or climbing white line, or “pompously” protruding from pockets but … always lonely.

     All this while, Ties, happily hanging from the 4 racks clinging onto the 4 doors of my wardrobe, started disappearing… without replacements.  Their compatriot kerchiefs were mostly lying, widowed, in the drawers beneath.

     One day, duty-fully, I decided to take attendance or, in due fashion language, Faire l’Appel, to hail those who, through thick and thin, through silk and cotton…, still stood by me.

     So I stood facing the hungry racks and took the Roll:

(N.B.: answers to calls are in italic font)

Boss ?  present … Pierre Cardin ?  présent

Valentino ?  si … Christian Dior ?  oui, OUI …  Giorgio Raedelli ?  ola

Daniel Hechter ?  ya, Da …  Milord ?  here …  Verri ?  prego?

… what in the…? … and we go on:

Charles Tyrwhitt ?  yes sir …  T.M.Lewin ?  please …

Mad Dogs ?  (waf.. waf) here …  Il Castino ?  por favor ?

Yves Saint Laurent ?  pardon ? (voilà qui es là)

et on repart :

La Camiceria ?  olé, je suis ici … Lanvin ?  avec plaisir … Kenzo ?  tango

Nina Blues ? ??… Hecha A Mano ? ?? …  Boggi ?  certo

Guy Laroche ?  oui Monsieur …  Cerruti 1881 ?  quel temps perdu

Lancôme ?  oui, ici … Balenciaga ?  presente … Gentle Man ? yes sir…

Salvadore Ferragamo ?  ouf, ce fût long.. io sono qui

Gianferre Ferrara ? regalo … Sartoria Ferruzzi ?  da … (what a pronunciation test?)

Small & Tall ?  (silence) .. Small & Tall ?  (silence) .. Smalto ?  long gone Francesco

… Veragioia ?  mi scuzi?  Tino Cosma ?  perdón

Hormuz ? … shshsh… Hormuz ?  grand silence… quoi?  et on répare :

Oh pardon: Hermès (ouf) ?  présent, présent !

Et Hermès de figurer en Figure de Proue…

     On “Remembrance Day”, on my way back from Wardrobe Corner, I felt attracted by a loud tohu-bohu outside.  From the balcony, I understandably watched crowds of demonstrators, led by the “Brands R Us” group with banner raised high, all streaming from “Via Reminisci” into la “Place des Mémoires Perdues”.  The now bygone Marques, et les autres marques aussi que je préfère oublier ici !

… And days keep going by,

 and the trodding goes on !

Hayyan Salim Haidar                                                           Beyrouth, le 22 Août 2026