Mamdani’s suits and ties send a clever message

Ashley Fetters Maloy

For men in politics, it’s a more serious fashion statement not to wear a suit than to wear one. (Just ask Volodymyr Zelensky or Elon Musk.) Putting one on, arguably, is just defaulting to the norm.

When incumbent Eric Adams dropped out of New York City’s 2025 mayoral election in September, the removal of his signature police-coded baseball caps, aviator sunglasses and bomber jackets simplified the visuals of the race to one man in a suit, another man in a suit, and a third man in a suit and a hat. A straight-outta-Midtown tableau.

That said: A suit can still say something. As he’s campaigned for Tuesday’s election, Zohran Mamdani’s suiting in particular - and how it’s accessorized - has been a clinic in dressing on-message.

Even at first glance, Mamdani’s suits are distinct from the ones worn by former New York governor Andrew M. Cuomo, his main opponent. Take the shoulders, for instance. Softer and less padded than Cuomo’s, they give Mamdani a narrower and more natural silhouette.

To millennials and younger voters, this is sort of a visual dog whistle. Mamdani looks like so many mid-30s dudes we know, dressed up in their finest mall-bought suits (perhaps the now-ubiquitous, sub-$1000 J. Crew Ludlow) to go to a wedding, maybe even as the groom. Cuomo’s suits, by contrast - many of them made by the New York tailoring house Bond & Bari, whose creations can cost anywhere from $1500 to upward of $5000 - boast stiff, hulking, roped shoulders, the kind with sharper corners that get even more angular when the arms are up in an emphatic gesticulation. They telegraph to young New Yorkers something like “finance dad”; they’re suits for the type of guys sometimes described as “suits.”

Mamdani’s suits lack such elegant sheen and structure, mirroring his messaging: He’s an outer-boroughs New York everyman concerned about the city’s affordability, while Cuomo’s a protector of its billionaire class and a cog in the state’s well-heeled political machine. After all, which of these suits is better suited to sitting on subway seats? Which is the suit of a man who might risk the grease spots of a bodega sandwich eaten on the fly? (And it certainly can’t hurt to look a little extra normie when you’re the “nepo baby” son of a successful Hollywood director.)

Unlike Cuomo and the Republican candidate Curtis Sliwa, Mamdani almost never makes public appearances without a tie. Arguably, such a concerted effort at formality is meant to convey continuity, familiarity and maturity - all signals it would behoove a 34-year-old democratic socialist aiming to be the city’s first Muslim mayor to send. His taste in ties, however, is occasionally funky (a bright pop of color here, a knit there); his usual rotation of dark suits now and again gets interrupted by a natty cardigan blazer or a tweed suit (this one suspected to actually be the J. Crew Ludlow, though a representative for Mamdani did not respond to a request for comment for this story). Which hints at an intriguing possibility: Were he not trying to maintain a broad appeal and keep the discourse focused on his policies, Mamdani might otherwise be having a little more fun sartorially.

Or perhaps nodding a bit more overtly toward his Indian and Ugandan heritage. Earlier this year, Mamdani posed for portraits in a formal kurta for a profile in the Muslim leftist magazine Acacia, and at a pair of 2016 events for his mother Mira Nair’s movie “Queen of Katwe,” Mamdani wore a black Nehru jacket vest with red accents and a striking blue suit of African wax-print, or Ankara, fabric.

In any case, “guy who might otherwise be having a little more fun” aligns neatly with a recent and raved-about revelation of Mamdani’s: that he’s bought weed (locally and legally) at a cannabis shop. The three silver rings he wears in addition to his wedding band, on his forefinger, right ring finger and pinkie? Equally groovy and modern, baby.

His watch, a $160 Casio A1000MA-7VT, is modest and youthfully trendy. His black and brown lace-up boots with a slightly built-up sole are essentially traditional men’s dress shoes with ankle support. A more practical choice than, say, Curtis Sliwa’s slip-ons, or Cuomo’s gleaming derbies, for hoofing it around the five boroughs on foot - an activity Mamdani has made an integral part of his campaign visuals, especially on social media.

It was the longest of these walks that gave the Mamdani campaign what might be its most lasting image. On a Friday in June, he walked with his supporters all the way from Inwood Hill at the northern tip of Manhattan to Battery Park at its southernmost point, 12 and a half miles. In a rare moment of jacketlessness, Mamdani made the even rarer choice to switch out his usual footwear for a pair of silver New Balance running shoes.

They were, as New York Magazine noted, not the fashion-crowd favorite 740s - in other words, not ironic-cool dad shoes but true dad shoes, prized for their comfort and practicality and, frankly, a little dorky. There was Mamdani - impossibly young, almost comically smiley - dapping up Uber drivers, taking selfies with restaurant diners, slinging his tie over his shoulder to scarf down a slice of pizza, all in a tired pair of sneakers that said: I may be so earnest it’s corny, but I’m here to go all the way.