Want to dress like a Beaufortonian? Think alligators, dogs and fuschia. But not socks

It’s that strange time of the year— fall oyster roasts are behind us but spring and summer are not quite upon us.

There are still many social occasions in Beaufort, however, that require “Lowcountry casual” dress.

But what is that, exactly?

The best comparison I can find is that people also say they’re “on Beaufort time.” It’s offered as an excuse for being late to something, and everyone laughs and nods, so evidently we all kind of understand it.

The dress code thing is different, though. In terms of ladies’ fashion, I’m sorry to say I know nothing. My wife would argue that I know nothing of men’s fashion either, but having been in the Lowcountry for nearly 40 years, I have picked up on a few things. Anything with “tide” or “marsh” or “vineyard” in the title usually gets good attention from buyers, so be on the lookout for those keywords.

As spring approaches, you’ll see a lot of neckties and bowties and socks and blazers in exotic colors like “fuschia” and “salmon” and probably some colors we don’t even know yet.

Don’t be fooled by the fanciness. They’re all just shades of pink. It’s okay to call it that.

While we’re on ties, if you have any you inherited from your grandfather, hang on to them. Skinny ties were popular several years ago and probably still are, but it’s only a matter of time before the wide, gaudy ties from the 1970’s make a comeback. I, for one, can’t wait for that day. Wider ties help cover up the girth that years of all-you-can-eat barbecue plates have afforded me.

As far as colors or patterns or themes, it’s safe to stick with sewn-on ducks or dogs or deer. Basically, if you can hunt with it or for it you can wear a symbol of it around your neck.

Shirts are another matter.

Polos have been worn by kings and princes for centuries. Probably. They’re good in any weather and cotton works just as well as polyester. It doesn’t matter if you have a little swoosh on it or alligator or a little man on a horse. As long as your initials are not embroidered on it, you’re probably not going to get noticed.

If you do have your initials embroidered on a polo, congratulations — you probably are present-day royalty right here among us.

Socks, as gracefully shown by former President George H.W. Bush, can really be anything. They don’t have to match anything else in your wardrobe, but it’s always good to have a pair of solid navy somewhere in your sock drawer.

Of course, this being Beaufort, it’s acceptable to never wear them at all. Everyone likes the look of a boat shoe with no socks. No one wants to talk about the accompanying odor or occasional blister, but it’s the price we men pay for our vanity.

Sweaters are another classic look, but in the Lowcountry it never really gets cold enough to break them out often. The solution, of course, is sweater vests. No appreciation for those? They keep your core warm while allowing your arms free range of motion for those times you need to swing wildly at the air because the car in front of you needs to be in the right lane.

Under the sweater should be a button-down plaid or gingham shirt. Solids are okay as long as the vest has some design. All solids are kind of boring, even if they’re green or purple or dark blue. Who are you, a visiting professor from Cambridge? This is the South. We like people to notice our clothes.

Pants are always khakis. Even the navy or black pants are really just colored khakis and it’s okay to call them that. Even when they’re fuschia.

Holding up your pants can be any kind of tan or brown belt, but the popular ones these days belong to the ones with little animals, just like your neckties. They can be crabs or Tigers or Bulldogs or Gamecocks or even all types of saltwater fish you spend hours never catching.

Regardless of taste, everyone appreciates your pants staying up.

Boat shoes are the versatile answer for your feet — socks or not. In fact, boat shoes are acceptable in church, offices, criminal court, probate court, sporting events, bar mitzvahs and grocery stores. They’re hard to find in actual boats, but they work well there, too.

That’s basically a neck-to-toe survival guide to last until April.

Then again, in the true spirit of Lowcountry casual, I wrote this while wearing ragged shorts and a T-shirt that survived the Clinton administration.

Would you trust a guy like that for fashion advice?