When Benjamin Franklin didn’t wear sequins to meet the king, men’s fashion changed forever.
Four months after Franklin signed the Declaration of Independence in July 1776, he was dispatched
to France as commissioner for the United States.

For his audience with Louis XVI, Franklin wore a plain purple silk suit with no embroidery, gold lace, or sequins. His suit might look fancy to our eyes today, but at the time it was considered shockingly plain compared to the brightly colored, floral patterned, highly embellished men’s fashion that was de rigueur at the courts of Versailles.

But this plain suit was deceptive. Franklin was hardly a backwoods rustic fresh from the countryside.
He had lived in London for almost twenty years, and receipts show that he purchased the most
luxurious textiles and fashionable dress available.

Franklin understood the French people. He knew they saw him as an exotic American, and he dressed up in a costume to appeal to their interests. The association between Franklin’s intentionally plain dress and the “simple republican” character of Americans stuck. No one believed it more than Americans did themselves.

Over the next century American diplomats stationed abroad complained that diplomatic dress
uniforms were too close to the aristocratic hierarchy of court dress. Secretary of State William L.
Marcy spluttered, “It is to be regretted that there was ever any departure in this respect from the
example of Dr. Franklin.”

Looking at most men’s suiting available at a department store today, you might be tempted to believe that the ideals of a “simple republican” still dictate men’s fashion. But why were republicans simple?
In 1776, republicanism was a new idea. Or at least, it was a new iteration of an old idea. An idea that
hadn’t been explored for over a thousand years, long enough that any aesthetic symbols would have to be completely reinvented for a modern populace.

Benjamin Franklin wasn’t the only one adopting plain dress as a kind of new American costume.
After George Washington chose buff and blue colors for his uniform as commander in chief of the
colonial army, civilians started wearing the same colors in support of the American cause. James
Madison, Thomas Mifflin and Alexander Hamilton all adopted buff and blue. It wasn’t a uniform,
but the uniformity of its fashionable color scheme increasingly read as republican.

Thomas Jefferson wore buff and blue when he was stationed in France as minister plenipotentiary.
Thomas Shippen wrote a letter home to his father in 1788 describing Jefferson as the most popular
diplomat, even though — or maybe, especially because he was the “plainest man in the room.”

The Founding Fathers weren’t inherently plain, and they hadn’t always dressed in simple suits.
Portraits of James Madison, James Monroe and Alexander Hamilton show them dressed in ruffles,
bows, and bright colors, even 20 years after the 13 colonies declared independence. But
after around 1800, they all dressed in somber black suits.

It can look like men today have lots of options to wear colors and patterns. They might wear bold
plaids when they’re camping. Neon when they’re running. Floral patterns when they’re on a cruise.
But when they go back to the office, they usually still put on suits, and those suits are still incredibly
constrained in their available options of color, pattern and silhouette.

At the National Portrait Gallery, nearly every president for the last two centuries wears a black suit.
In fact, the closer you get to the centers of power where people — typically still men — have money
and make political decisions, the more likely they will all be dressed in the costume of a “simple
republican.”

Industry and commerce played a big part in the history of the United States, and their legacy often
defines what is American about American fashion. But politics is baked into our history too.
Because that political history was invented and costumed by the Founding Fathers, we should pay
attention to what they wore and why it changed.

Benjamin Franklin died in 1790, so he never got to see the chokehold that plain dark suits had over
men’s fashion for the next two centuries. Franklin may have been a fashion forecaster, but we should
remember that it was a costume. He told us himself in his adage “eat to please thyself, but dress to
please others.”

As we reflect on the legacy of the Founding Fathers this July, we can celebrate them for their
rejection of aristocratic luxury. But we should also be careful that political equality isn’t only for the
people who dress alike.

Chloe Chapin is the author of “Suitable: The Sartorial Revolution and the Fashioning of Modern Men” (Oxford University Press).