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Copyright October 27, 1999 The Hartford Courant
KYRIE O'CONNOR; Hartford Courant Staff Writer

Stewart's signature pants are often mistakenly called knickers, but their proper name of plus fours derives from the 4 inches of fabric draped over the knee, giving the characteristic baggy look. Introduced to America by the fashion-forward Prince of Wales on a tour of the former colonies in 1924, they soon caught on with golfers such as Gene Sarazen but, as years passed, fell to the predation of Haggars and Dockers. 

"I would describe my clients as very confident in themselves,'' says Diane Hoult, whose store, Ashby Sportswear in Calgary, Alberta, is one of the few that sells classic solid-color and tartan wool plus fours to a "very select'' clientele. "They don't need to follow the pack.'' Yet time was the "pack'' were the ones in the short pants. "In the European tradition, it has historically been commoner to wear short pants than long ones,'' says Valerie Steele, chief curator of the museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York. Before the French Revolution, only lower-class workers and sailors wore long trousers, says Steele. The middle class and aristocracy wore -- think George Washington or Louis XIV -- tight-fitting breeches and light-colored hose. But the French revolutionaries changed that. 

Remember the "sans-culottes''? Their name meant, literally, "without knee-breeches.'' They, the folks in the long pants, won the day. And so did their fashion, down to the present day, with two exceptions: Small boys and sports participants still got away with wearing knickers and breeches. Though boys no longer make getting long pants a rite of passage, football players in their modified breeches and equestrians in their form-fitting jodhpurs still owe a fashion nod to the aristocrats of yore. As does, in an odd twist, Hernandez, known by the aristocratic nickname El Duque. His knee-grazing navy blue stirrup socks were a much more common look up to 30 years ago, says Bruce Markusen, senior researcher at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y., when players started pulling their pant legs over the socks. (Stirrups were a great technological leap from the one-piece wool over-the-knee socks worn, sweatily, until 1905.) But Markusen applauds El Duque. "That's the proper way to wear a uniform,'' he says. "That's the way it's meant to be worn.'' The Yankees' media office, however, finds the subject of Hernandez's socks of less than limited interest, perhaps having other things on its mind. The Yankees profess to having no theories on his fashion motives. "That's just the way he's always worn them,'' a spokesman said brusquely. 

Gina Pia Cooper has a theory, however. She's the editor in chief of the on-line fashion and culture magazine FashionFinds.com, in the Yankees' hometown. "The man's leg was much more visible for centuries than a woman's was, and it was accessorized to show off its best qualities. Knee-to-ankle was a very important zone,'' she says. Only since suffrage and, especially, World War II, have women had a chance to compete in the battle of the gams. "We're pretty new to all that.'' But at some cost overall. "Men were peacocks,'' she says, even up to the 1960s -- think Cary Grant or even Austin Powers -- but we've since plunged into a sorry era of baggy shorts, utilitarian dressing and casual Fridays. "The whole idea of admiring a man's dress, his personal beauty, is not really regarded anymore. I think it's sad.'' But she's all in favor of El Duque's distinctive look. The hose and breeches accentuate the line of the leg in a way that would make George Washington proud. "If you're tall and leggy, it looks very good,'' Cooper says.