Dinner at the Great Hall

Lawyers are often known for dressing well, as their business suits and attire are important investments for client meetings and appearances in court.  Of course, not all attorneys are finely fitted specimens of sartorial splendor - it really is a mixed bag.  My limited experience has revealed that Washington, D.C. professionals are among the best dressed in the country, and perhaps it comes as no surprise given the city's prestige in the fields of government, politics, and law.  But even among D.C. lawyers, there is a noticeable disparity among the thread-clad legal eagles.  I know because I traverse our nation's capitol in search of the best-dressed attorneys.

The hardcore socialites remain.

And so I found myself dining last night in the "Great Hall" (the main corridor leading up to the Court's Chamber) at the U.S. Supreme Court Building.  The event was hosted by an Appellate Inn of Court to honor the retiring Clerk of Court, General William Suter.  A few of the Justices mingled and Solicitor General Verrilli offered some remarks about General Suter's impressive career, noting many of his life experiences (including his encounter with a young Elvis Presley at Fort Hood in 1958 - which proved influential in turning around the young Rock 'n Roll star's career at that time) and even went so far as to suggest that General Suter was the inspiration behind Dos Equis' ad campaign featuring "The Most Interesting Man in the World."

It was a surreal experience as I gazed about the room, studying the marble busts of all the former Chief Justices, the coffered ceiling, and the adjoining oak-paneled conference rooms.  As a regular spectator of oral arguments before the Supreme Court, I had been here before, but during such times, we were quietly herded from one point to the next with German efficiency.  To begin the evening, I had been seated at the check-in table, greeting the guests and, of course, studying every detail of the gentlemen's attire.  After being seated for dinner, I occasionally strained to steal a glance about the dimly lit room in search of the best-dressed man (but without appearing rude to the company at my table).  But Frodo had it easier, as the room was full of well-polished, high-profile appellate attorneys from both the Department of Justice and private firms alike making it very difficult to identify a candidate.  And it was in that moment of cerebral jaw-dropping when I concluded that appellate attorneys were perhaps the finest-dressed advocates in the legal profession.

Appellate courts were established to handle appeals from the decisions of lower courts and thus they are both influential and binding.  These gentlemen routinely argue cases before such courts and afford them a great deal of courtesy.  This respect is not limited to their calculated remarks, but to their conduct as a whole, including appropriate dress.  It is their custom to begin the presentation of oral arguments with the humble supplication:  "May it please the court."  What these gentleman wear is not dispositive to the legal issue(s) at hand or helpful in explaining why a lower court's decision is a particularly egregious misapplication of the law.  But, at a minimum, an aesthetically pleasing outfit conveys due respect for the court and an apprehension of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Although not a universal rule, it is clear to me these members of the Supreme Court Bar are frequently the best-dressed advocates that I have encountered.  It's quite simple really -  their manner of dress is a manifestation of their awareness of the immense privilege that they enjoy in arguing before the highest court in the land.

And that's the way it should be.