On March 15, 2009, the people of El Salvador spoke, and 20 years of right-wing rule by the U.S.-backed National Republican Alliance (ARENA) came to an unceremonious end. For Despot Wear, this historic transition is an auspicious moment to look back and observe how ARENA lost its way politically by losing its way sartorially. A study of the decline of ARENA fashion leads to the inescapable conclusion that the people who brought us CIA-trained death squads might have held on a little longer, had they also enlisted FIT-trained fashion squads. It vindicates the Despot Wear maxim: "If you don't look the part, you can't suppress the peeps."ARENA fashion begins, and unfortunately ends, with its founder, Major Roberto D'Aubuisson Arrieta. D'Aubuisson overcame his humble origins (and unfortunate resemblance to Tony Montana) to become a distinguished military officer, a graduate of the CIA School of the Americas, the founder and leader of ARENA, and a charismatic, bloody-handed strongman. He fought the
D'Aubuisson had several nicknames, including "Chele" ("light-skinned face") and "Blowtorch Bob" (don't ask), but we think he should have been called "Señor Chaqueta Miembros Solos." Members Only jackets have often been associated with despotism, favored as they are by 1980s high school bullies and cranky old people alike. Their combination of stylish windbreaker and martial epaulets represents the merging of civilian and military that all despots strive for. But Chele's Chaqueta was even more exclusive: one of the rare "V-Neck Shortsleeve" models, of which only three copies are known to exist. Maybe the tag should have read "Three Members Only."
If Louis XIV was the "Sun King," then Roberto D'Aubuisson was the "Chess King." Whether he was torturing opponents, overthrowing the government, or assassinating archbishops, D'Aubuisson could never fail as long was he was M.O.-clad. Soon, ARENA was running the country. Here on the right once again, we see Chele doing a bit of rabble-rousing in his backup model, a more conventional version that he leaves rakishly unzipped to reveal a preppy sweater beneath. The height of 80s fashion, all he's missing here is the ski goggles. Everything is of course nicely complemented by D'Aubuisson's indefatigable, if somewhat derivative, fist-pump.
D'Aubuisson led ARENA for four blood-soaked years, from 1981 until 1985, when he unfortunately lost the presidential election and resigned as party chief. A good soldier to the end, D'Aubuisson continued to lead death squads until 1992, when esophageal cancer finally delivered him to what we at Despot Wear refer to as "The Hague Downstairs." While ARENA would regain hegemony in 1989, the seeds of decline had already been sown - or should we say, sewn. For ARENA's fashion had already begun the slow, disastrous march from jungle abbatoir Members Only to conference call purgatory blah.
Many ARENA observers point to the infamous "Polo Rollout" photo as the key transition, and we at Despot Wear agree. Unfortunately D'Aubuisson himself is in it. Observe the following:
There are some grace notes here, to be sure: the Mayan Rope Chain Medallion for connecting with indigenous peoples, the half-Cornholio stance (an important despotic gesture, particularly in Latin America), and the presence of what appear to be Despot Wear goddess Imelda Marcos and a young Vellupillai Prabhakaran (clad in the bullet-proof vest he unfortunately forgot at home for the last time in 2009), no doubt providing moral support, or in Prabhakaran's case, technical support. But D'Aubuisson's noxious blue windbreaker and bewildered smile are warning signs. It is clear that Chele did not dress himself for this photo.
It is even clearer that he did not design, approve, or look at all favorably upon the awful white polo shirts, with plus-sign insignia and tricolor trim, that make their first appearence here. ARENA, victim of its own success, had gone corporate bland. The new ARENA polo shirt uniform ultimately would transform the once-vital movement's wardrobe closet into a political mausoleum. Note #1 to future despots: don't dress yourself and your followers like Accenture consultants on a red-eye to Denver. Note #2: don't adopt an insignia that resembles that of the Red Cross, an organization devoted to helping people. Note #3: don't dress yourself and your followers like Accenture consultants on a red-eye to Denver. As for those baseball caps, we're not even going to go there.
With D'Aubuisson gone and the polo standardized, it was a slow but inexorable crawl over two decades to this ignominious scene, photographed weeks before the final March 2009 defeat:
A tired-looking Rodrigo Ávila, ARENA's presidential candidate, attempts to marshal the spirits of the past with a half-hearted D'Aubuisson fist-pump. But it's completely ineffective in a sea of Oracle technical sales polos and student safety patrol vests. Worst of all, on Ávila the tri-color polo has devolved further into an all-white short-sleeve button-down that screams middle-management. Such a "shirt" is richly deserving of that strongest of Despot Wear rebukes: civilian.
Ignore Ávila's hapless wife and focus in on the two flanking sycophants, to whom we shall refer as Sancho Malo and Sancho Peor. Underneath those aforementioned safety patrol vests, they're wearing identical micro-plaid versions of Ávila's rag, varying only in the shade of blue. Malo is in the cyan and Peor is in the navy blue. Such garb is about as menacing as a call center lunch room. Sancho y Sancho: you're trying to run a banana republic, not shop at one.
It's no great surprise that defeat ensued soon after this final, dispiriting image was recorded. ARENA had been brought low by the polo.
Luckily, an ARENA spokesman told us the party is fairly sure it can pay off its post-campaign debts by selling the polos and vests to Microsoft, who plans on handing them out as free promotional gifts to software developers attending the Windows 7 unveiling.
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