Greg’s Golf Fashion Rules

Some guys simply have no idea how to dress for golf. Finally, in writing, here are a handful of rules that should help. Match the color of your shoes, belt, and socks. The only exception to this rule is with white shoes, because white belts are risky. You’re either a white-belt-guy (waist less than 36 inches) or you’re not (waist more than 36 inches). Any colored belt and socks work with white shoes—but the belt and socks should then match. Never wear white socks with black shoes. Wear long socks with pants. Again, the only exception is with white shoes. Low-cut socks and white shoes work with jeans, but not with slacks. Wear low-cut socks with shorts. No exceptions here. Shine your shoes. If you can afford them, it’s nice to have at least two pairs of comfortable golf shoes, one white and one dark (solid black or brown). Keep them clean and shiny. If you don’t have a pair of golf shoes, nor the time and inclination, or means to acquire them before an upcoming round, then athletic shoes will suffice. Avoid wearing any shoes with an aggressive or knobby tread, since they will damage the surface of the greens and tees. As for golf sandals, I don’t have much of an opinion, provided they aren’t worn with socks. I wouldn’t suggest wearing them to a private facility, since they might be in violation of the dress code. Iron your shirt. When you’re done with that, can you come iron some of mine, too? Don’t mix patterns. Plaid shorts are cool, no doubt, but not with a striped shirt. Any time one garment (shirt, shorts, or pants) has a pattern, the other(s) should be a basic, solid color. Don’t mix textures. A nice double-mercerized (thin and shiny) golf shirt doesn’t look right with standard khaki pants. It goes much better with a nice pair of microfiber slacks. Conversely, a pique (thicker, fuzzy standard cotton) shirt looks just fine with chinos, but not with silk trousers. Khakis or chinos aren’t slacks or trousers—there’s a big difference. Either is probably acceptable, but they aren’t the same. Story Time: It’s no exaggeration that golf professionals spend more time with our coworkers than with our families during the peak season. If we’re lucky, those coworkers become our close friends. This was certainly the case with Troy Blood. He’s a fascinating guy—in a ditzy, lovable, cartoon-character sort of way. His interests include everything, and he’s good at them all. He’s a riverboat gambler with a heart of gold, charmingly shallow most of the time,—because his fly is down or there’s a booger half-hanging out his nose—then deeply sincere when you least expect it. He can’t make it through the day without ripping his pants or staining his shirt with some hot sauce that squirted out of a week-old taco he found under the driver’s seat in his car but ate anyway. He’ll three-put from 2 feet when he’s your partner—then make a birdie from the trash can to kill you when he isn’t. To know Troy is to love him. And I was lucky enough to have him as my right-hand man. You may find it nice to know that rookie mistakes aren’t limited to amateurs. Shortly after I hired Troy at the private club, a venue in which he had no prior experience, he confessed that he didn’t know much about golf fashion and asked for some pointers. I obliged, suggesting we start with the basics (Greg’s Golf-Fashion Rules). Easy enough, right? On the following Monday I showed up to the Pro-Am tournament and was promptly greeted in the parking lot by another golf pro who inquired if I’d seen Troy yet. “No, why?” I said. “You’ll see,” was the response. Great. This continued throughout my pre-round preparation, as pro after pro approached me and asked if I’d seen Troy … Finally, while I was walking down the 4th fairway, I spotted him coming toward me up the 17th and saw immediately why everyone was snickering. There was Troy, in a near see-through white hard-collared 1981 Seattle Seahawk coach’s shirt—unbuttoned to mid-sternum, with haystack plumes of black chest hair billowing out—a camouflaged hunting cap, mangled khaki cargo shorts, a brown belt, knee-high black socks, and black shoes. Wow! He looked ridiculous. Surely it was a joke on me, wasn’t it? I stormed over to see just what in the world he was thinking, and to remind him that he was publicly representing our brand-new facility for the first time. He saw me coming and could tell that I was furious. From across the fairway, he started shouting, “You said black socks with black shoes! You said black socks with black shoes!” Somehow he’d omitted almost all the other rules. Honestly, I can’t believe that at some point he’d looked in the mirror before leaving his house and decided what he was wearing looked good. His outfit was awful, plain and simple—and everyone who saw him knew it, including the members of my team who each had something to say about it throughout the round. Sometimes golf fashion does matter! But, as always, it was Troy who had the last laugh. He shot 67 and won the tournament.