November 1, 2006
End Blue Jean
Discrimination Now!

Who speaks for jeans?  C’mon America, it’s time stop treating denim as a second class citizen.  It’s a blue jean world we inhabit and the “fashion police” better learn to live in it. 

Two weeks ago a friend and I, both at the grandpa stage of life and on the Front Range assisting the respective grandmas as they baby-sat, decided to hook up for golf on a Friday morning.  Both of us were eager to experience Fossil Trace, the outstanding new course nestled beside the Taj Mahal like Jefferson County Hall of Justice in Golden. 

The course is incredible.  It’s just a tremendous golfing experience, except for one rule.  When we called for a tee time the very nice lady at the other end of the phone cautioned, “Remember denim is not allowed at Fossil Trace.  We require collared shirts and no blue jeans.” 

Show up we did, ready to play in our chinos. And in the foursome ahead of us was a most natty dresser replete in a striped orange golf shirt and red Scottish plaid shorts while the black socks he wore sported a large hole in the right heel.  Thank goodness he wasn’t wearing Wranglers, that’d be tacky. 

Not allowing jeans on a golf course is so “where were you in ‘62”.  And indeed, way back then, in the halls of my wife’s alma mater, Boone, Iowa High School, girls were required to wear skirts, no blue jeans.  Today school administrators breathe a sigh of relief when high school co-eds walk through the school door in the latest designer denim styling, it’s one less thing to worry about in dress code compliance. 

While denim goes back to Sutter’s Mill and the gold rush of ’49 blue jeans really came into universal popularity after World War II.  They are the all-around, takes a licking and keeps on ticking, perfect for golf in cold weather and a hundred other occasions, pair of pants.  Where do golf courses get off stating blue jeans don’t make the cut on tee or green? 

Today’s men’s magazines, GQ and Esquire come to mind, feature today’s fashions and continually combine dress shirt, tie, sport coat and blue jeans.   

In concert, George Strait is the height of country cool in his Stetson, white dress shirt open at the neck, neatly pressed blue jeans and ropers.  But not on a golf course?  C’mon. 

A few years back an attempt was made to walk on at Angel Park, a fun public track in the Las Vegas suburb of Summerlin.  It was a brisk, north wind Wednesday in January.  A tee time wasn’t a problem, provided I changed out of my jeans.  That’s right, in Las Vegas, where people wander up and down the strip staggering from casino to casino with filled cocktail glasses in their hand, appearing to all the world like they just jumped off a turnip truck, no one says a word, but Sin City fashion police put the kibosh on golf course blue jeans.  

Maybe Tiger could help us.  It used to be a collared shirt was mandatory. Then the world’s greatest golfer started playing the PGA tour wearing high end Nike T-shirts selling for somewhere north of a hundred bucks.  All of a sudden that non-collared style passed muster at the pro shop.