Posted on: Saturday, May 19, 2001

Relaxed aloha wear gets stiffed

By Mike Leidemann
Advertiser Staff Writer

The word is out. Crisp aloha is in.

The 2,000 or so people invited to attend the premiere of Disney's "Pearl Harbor" movie, scheduled next week aboard an aircraft carrier in the real Pearl Harbor, have been ordered to come dressed in either military dress uniforms or crisp aloha attire.

Talk about your self-canceling phrases. Crisp aloha is right up there with military intelligence, jumbo shrimp, serious fun, random patterns and light opera.

I always thought aloha wear was supposed to be soft and comfortable. That's its charm. If we're suddenly going to accede to Disney's demands and start starching our flowered collars, we're surely headed down the road to perdition and utter loss of our sweet Island soul.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with crisp. I like lots of crisp things. I like crisp french fries and crispy gau gee. Like the poet Robert Bridges, I like a crisp and wintry carpet of snow that hides a million blossoms waiting to blossom. And at the ballpark, I like a nice, crisp 1-0 pitcher's duel that's over in less than two hours, the kind of game you hardly ever see at Rainbow Stadium.

When it comes to clothes though, I couldn't even imagine what crisp means when it's coupled with the word aloha. I thought of a Society of Seven concert I once saw, and remembered some very dignified looking guys who preach the Gospel on Fort Street Mall, but somehow I didn't think either of those got it exactly right.

So I called my friend Fashion Cop, who likes to stay up on trends like this.

"What's crisp aloha mean to you?" I asked.

There was a long pause. Then she said, "Who is this?"

When I explained, she tried to imagine what the Disney folks had in mind.

"It must be like one of those mu'umu'u by Mamo" she said. "You know the ones all the TV news ladies were wearing a while back? They've got big fancy, frilly, ruffles on top and a fishtail cut below. They make you look all stiff and hard like a puffer fish."

What about for men, I asked.

"Well, I see you in a lovely black-and-white crepe de Chine scoop-neck dress in a demitasse length..."

No seriously.

"Well, my guess is the crisp aloha man will have his Reyn's shirt all starched up and tucked inside his neatly creased dress pants with a big black belt and either very black or very white shoes. The phrase spit-and-polish comes to mind somehow."

What kind of baseball cap would go with that, I asked.

"You're not actually thinking of going, are you?"

You never know. The invitation could be in the mail right now.

"Wait to see it in the theaters," she said. "Then you can wear whatever you want."

Mike Leidemann's columns appear Thursdays and Saturdays in The Advertiser. He can be reached at phone (525-5460) or e-mail (mleidemann@honoluluadvertiser.com).