Bow Ties

When former Ohio State football coach Jim Tressel was under attack in 2010 for potential NCAA violations he was vehemently defended, at least at first, by his school president. "I'm just hopeful the coach doesn't dismiss me," Ohio State President E. Gordon Gee quipped at a press conference. Maybe now we know why. Without Ohio State, how would Gee pay for his bow ties? While Tressel's ultimate firing led to major sanctions, including a bowl ban this season, Gee is getting along just fine.

Emmy-nominated actor Jesse Tyler Ferguson, who plays the red-haired lawyer half of a gay couple on the hit ABC comedy "Modern Family," and his real-life partner, Justin Mikita, are mixing fashion with political activism. The recently engaged pair are behind a limited-edition, 20-piece collection of neckwear called Tie the Knot that went on sale just a few days ago exclusively through online retailer the Tie Bar. Proceeds from sales of the jaunty, all-silk, self-tie bow ties are earmarked to benefit groups working for marriage equality.

I'm looking around my office and half of my male colleagues are wearing ties. But only one of us--the guy pictured at left--is in a bow tie. And like any bow-tie wearer, I like it that way. Four-in-hand tie widths grow and shrink, and patterns change. But the bow tie is the Old Faithful of the neckwear world. A wise man once explained their charm: Bow ties are never really in style, nor are they ever really out of it.

When former Ohio State football coach Jim Tressel was under attack in 2010 for potential NCAA violations he was vehemently defended, at least at first, by his school president. "I'm just hopeful the coach doesn't dismiss me," Ohio State President E. Gordon Gee quipped at a press conference. Maybe now we know why. Without Ohio State, how would Gee pay for his bow ties? While Tressel's ultimate firing led to major sanctions, including a bowl ban this season, Gee is getting along just fine.

Thanks for the update on the bow tie ("The Ties That Bind Them," Aug. 2). I remember how my father wore them once in a while, and he always looked so handsome when he did. He enjoyed them most of his life, whether they were in fashion or not. He made them look good and they suited him in return. I especially enjoyed reading that the Bow Tie Club came from a man who earned his degree from the University of Baltimore. My dad was born in Baltimore. --FRANCES TERRELL LIPPMAN Los Angeles In your story about bow tie fans, you left out one of the greatest persons of the 20th century or in all of history.

--And then there were nine. As in nine bunnies. On Saturday night, the last Playboy Club in the country closed its doors, and the last nine bunnies surrendered their bow ties in Lansing, Mich. "They may allow us to keep our ears," bunny Rochelle--last name withheld to the end, as per club rules--said at a farewell party the night before.

Consider the bow tie. It's a piece of sartorial impertinence, a perky colored, narrow length of cloth secured around the neck in a knot that seems to baffle the most ingenious of men. An insouciant touch to the drab dress of the male. The first time I wore a bow tie, I was a sophomore trying to impress a haughty minx in my high school English class. Over the years, I've worn them in many colors, shapes and sizes. I wore a dazzler at my recent 90th birthday party.

What do Abraham Lincoln, Stan Laurel, Harry Truman, Frank Sinatra, Karl Marx, Steve Jobs, Winston Churchill, Donald Duck, Mark Twain, Frederick Rasmussen, Manet's "Olympia," Louis Farrakhan and virtually the entire male membership of the Nation of Islam have in common? Well, bow ties, of course. Olympia's admittedly is only a bit of string, but, then again, that's about all she wears except for a bracelet, a pair of bedroom slippers and a hibiscus bloom in her hair.

As the light turned red at the intersection of Crenshaw and Slauson, Brian Muhammad raised two pink pie boxes in his right hand and strolled up the sidewalk: "Bean pie! Bean pie!" A yellow school bus with only a few children onboard pulled up to the curb as the driver swung open the door: "Just a regular. " Muhammad, dressed in a slightly rumpled black suit and a navy bow tie, bounded up the bus steps and handed him a pie. Video: Peddling bean pies on a busy corner "My credit good?"

BOW ties are back, and not just with uber-geeky Republicans such as Tucker Carlson. Jay-Z, Brandon Flowers of the Killers and Gnarls Barkley's Cee-Lo are all making fashion statements with them -- the sleek black bow ties that accompany classic tuxes, of course, but also bow ties in vibrant colors and dapper tartans. Ties that look good with a retro suit or even jeans -- pulled into a smart knot or left dangling at the collar.

As the light turned red at the intersection of Crenshaw and Slauson, Brian Muhammad raised two pink pie boxes in his right hand and strolled up the sidewalk: "Bean pie! Bean pie!" A yellow school bus with only a few children onboard pulled up to the curb as the driver swung open the door: "Just a regular. " Muhammad, dressed in a slightly rumpled black suit and a navy bow tie, bounded up the bus steps and handed him a pie. Video: Peddling bean pies on a busy corner "My credit good?"

'The justice in the bow tie' April 20, 1920: Born John Paul Stevens in Chicago, the youngest of four sons to a successful hotel owner. 1941: Graduates Phi Beta Kappa from the University of Chicago with a bachelor's degree in English literature. June 7, 1942: Marries Elizabeth Jane Sheeren; they have four children (John Joseph, Kathryn, Elizabeth Jane and Susan Roberta). 1942: Begins three years of service in the U.S. Naval Reserve, earning a Bronze Star as a code-breaker.

There's a bow-tie revolution going on. Sure, you've seen them on dandy hipsters or the chiseled and coiffed models who grace the pages of men's fashion magazines. And now, 31-year-old NFL linebacker Dhani Jones has proclaimed: "Just because you wear a bow tie doesn't mean you're a nerd." Jones aims to recruit guys of all shapes, sizes and ages into "the way of the bow tie," urging them to adopt not only his habit of wearing one but also his philosophy, what he calls "the resurgence of the gentleman."

If you're going to wear a bow tie, you should learn to tie one. Look at it as the price of admission to the club. Like most things about a man's wardrobe, it's a detail that speaks volumes, and at the end of the night, when it's untied and hanging loosely around your neck, you'll still feel like a million bucks. A couple of important tips: When you're finished, the unbowed end on one side of the tie will actually be in front of the bow part, and on the other side it will be behind.

IN "Clean and Sober," Glenn Gordon Caron's 1988 rehab drama, Morgan Freeman plays a drug counselor who returns to his office to find Michael Keaton's high-strung coke addict on his phone. "You want to hang up the phone, please?" he says in his sonorous baritone. When Keaton ignores him, he calmly unplugs the phone. "You know what the addict's least favorite word is?" he asks. " 'No.' Ask me if you can use my phone." "May I use your phone?" Keaton says, dripping with sarcasm.

BOW ties are back, and not just with uber-geeky Republicans such as Tucker Carlson. Jay-Z, Brandon Flowers of the Killers and Gnarls Barkley's Cee-Lo are all making fashion statements with them -- the sleek black bow ties that accompany classic tuxes, of course, but also bow ties in vibrant colors and dapper tartans. Ties that look good with a retro suit or even jeans -- pulled into a smart knot or left dangling at the collar.

Emmy-nominated actor Jesse Tyler Ferguson, who plays the red-haired lawyer half of a gay couple on the hit ABC comedy "Modern Family," and his real-life partner, Justin Mikita, are mixing fashion with political activism. The recently engaged pair are behind a limited-edition, 20-piece collection of neckwear called Tie the Knot that went on sale just a few days ago exclusively through online retailer the Tie Bar. Proceeds from sales of the jaunty, all-silk, self-tie bow ties are earmarked to benefit groups working for marriage equality.

The maddening thing about wearing a bow tieis not that you must learn to tie it. It is having to answer what bow-tie wearers the world over know as The Two Questions: "Is that a clip-on?" "Why do you wear a bow tie?" The first question is beneath the dignity of the serious bow-tie connoisseur. The second is reasonable enough. Any man with a bow tie under his chin becomes an object of curiosity in a room full of four-in-hands (which is the proper name for the long tie).

Re the difficulties facing the installation of "Collar and Bow" at Walt Disney Concert Hall [July 27]: I have always doubted that the bow tie sculpture is really a good fit for Disney Hall. First, the men of the Philharmonic wear white bow ties; the sculpture is a black bow tie. Second, as most men of the Philharmonic who play violin or viola will tell you, we dislike bow ties. They are cumbersome, bulky and, along with the tux collar, make every concert less comfortable. The position and comfort of the violin/viola under our chin is a vital part of our technique, and the bow- tie only gets in the way. Why we would honor such an annoying article of clothing escapes me. JOHN HAYHURST La Crescenta The writer is a violist with the Los Angeles Philharmonic.

Would you add a tiara to the Mona Lisa? Would you add a bow tie to one of Van Gogh's self-portraits? Why would you tamper with perfection ("The Hall Mark," by Christopher Knight, July 28)? Overnight, the Walt Disney Concert Hall became a cultural landmark and icon. Adding a sculpture will detract from this precious work of art, not enhance it. David Armendariz Garden Grove With all due respect to Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen, who are brilliant artists whose public and private works have always been provocatively appropriate, I have to agree with Christopher Knight, who equates the white collar and black tie sculpture now being fabricated with Carpeteria's genie.