"Eduardo [Agnelli, upon his decease in a plane crash, 1935,] left a wife and seven children. His lady was Virginia Bourbon del Monte, Princess of San Faustino - because once the Agnellis made all that money, only the bluest blood would do. The princess, half American and thus relatively emancipated, indulged her own appetites with the ease that comes from an abundance of domestic help, and this with a clear conscience, given her husband's amorous adventures. Ten years after Eduardo's untimely demise, Virginia died in a car crash in the company of a male friend. The Agnelli family let it be known that she was strangled like Isadora Duncan of old, whose scarf had caught in the wheels and choked her to death. In fact she was amusing the trouser-less driver, who lost control in the wrong place and at the wrong time"
Saturday 14 August 2010
Out-Side
The Out Group - 18th July 1967
Back Row: Tom Maschler, David Benedictus, Nicholas Tomalin
Centre: Cathy McGowan, Jonathan Aitken, Tom Hustler
Front Row: Christopher Gibbs and Lady Mary-Gaye Curzon
Revisiting the theme of Luminaries United, this counterpart portrait to The In Group was also commissioned by Jocelyn Stevens, then the publisher of Queen Magazine, to take place on 18th July 1967
Don't be fooled by the veneer of respectability this photograph uses to juxtapose itself with its sibling: former Conservative MP Mr. Aitken, for one, is not known for his aversion to a little indelicacy. One should also take note of Chelsea Set leader, designer and dandy, Christopher Gibbs - we have him to thank for giving velvet ties their moment under the club lights
It's been said that Lord Lichfield's gift lay in eliciting an air of relaxation from his subjects (and let it also be said that his gift was certainly not in lending his name to transient menswear brands). Nowhere, I feel, is this more aparent than in his group portraiture and his more candid work at country piles, Hollywood homes and ambassadorial residences
But as I said, he had a way with the human reaction. One only has to observe the subjects in this Studio-set shot to notice that
Friday 13 August 2010
Cutting Class
I'd planned to secure an interview for Mode Parade with world class tailor Edward Sexton before exiting London, but alas, this did not materialise in time. His cutting talents remain pleasingly sans pareil in your author's eyes, as well as in those of the people that respect and patronise his creations
Below, Finch's Quarterly Review style editor Tom Stubbs demonstrates the second stage fitting and the finished article of a bespoke Edward Sexton commission that is not flagrant enough to have him removed from Annabel's but immediate enough to elicit commentary and, I should hope, approbation. Personally, I think he should be pictured with it in a private study with gilded and gilt festooned 19th century French furniture, hand blown Cartier crystal desk adornments and a bikini-clad model on each armrest:
Labels:
edward sexton,
menswear,
Style,
tailoring
Thursday 12 August 2010
Peculiarly, Mr. Fish
Michael Fish (centre), shirtmaker, Turnbull & Asser alumnus, In Group member, "high priest" of the Peacock Revolution (as described by Hardy Amies) and creator of the kipper tie, with his staff at his 17 Clifford Street, W1 haberdashery in the late 1960s:
Very much my sort of shopping experience, then... A holocaust of see-through voiles, brocades and spangles and mini-skirts for men, blinding silks, flower printed hats... all the surface mannerisms and mouthings of hippy, but none of the intentNik Cohn on Mr. Fish's shop and output
Mr. Fish's work can be seen at the Victoria & Albert Museum
Cigar to Sharp Dressed Men
Monday 9 August 2010
Sergei Rachmaninoff - 'Vocalise, Op. 34 No. 14' (1912)
Whenever I'd like a feeling of equanimity, this sort of piece normally helps. It is particularly notable for containing no words other than "ah"
This performance was conducted by Leopold Stokowski and sung by Anna Moffo
Labels:
1910s,
broken ipod blues,
music,
rachmaninoff
Friday 6 August 2010
Leather Lust Object No.2
George Cleverley Gladstone bag made with Russian leather salvaged from the sunken Metta Catharina. Available from Leather Soul Hawaii. Enticingly expensive
Tuesday 3 August 2010
Black Tie & Décolletage
My reinvigorated formalwear rig recently received a public airing at a "Bow Ties and Cleavage Party" that indulged me in more ways than one. My J. Hoare/E. Tautz 1960s textured dinner jacket was perhaps the most iridescent piece on display that was not set in sculpted metal. Whether it also adorned a low cut front at any point is not for me to say
(Fun fact: the term "décolletage" is often mistaken for "décotege" by anxious conservative Ghanaian mothers who secretly wish for their daughters to convert to Islam)
It's necessary here that I caution against donning such garments away from club or home-based black tie evenings and formally minded social parties. This casual aspect of black tie should not be misinterpreted as being adaptable to any casual setting, nor should it be seen at business award ceremonies. And please try not to dress it down, no matter what fantasies Lapo Elkann and the word "sprezzatura" fill your mind with
In my opinion, this sort of neutral toned flamboyance deserves nothing less than the full bore treatment, from my lapel pin to my dainty, opera pump-clad feet:
Of course, I like sculpted metal also, but in the tradition of my clothing choices, I made it the preserve of my shirt cuffs and my face:
Not long afterwards, I was commissioned by an uncle over lunch to teach him the ways of the self-tying bow for an upcoming event. I hope that he was the best dressed man at the Kenny G concert and concomitant gala dinner he was to attend
And like me, I'm certain he was grateful that only the excessive air conditioning of Ghanaian venues allowed for our appreciative show of Western eveningwear in a hot climate
Photographs by Barrak El-Mahmoud of Capture Your Memory Bank, Ghana
Friday 30 July 2010
Five Times Fly
Highlighting the insouciant sharpness of Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes is today's mandate:
They also had quite a way with an indelible classic or two; thank God Gamble and Huff were on their team:
Thursday 29 July 2010
See Change
Of all the quotations on style one can dredge up from print and the internet and use them to beat others over the head on message boards in a manner that's both bloviating and fascistic, I currently favour this aphorism from that silkily spoken, maneating man of letters, Gore Vidal:
“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn”
Amongst my reasons is its lack of dogmatic prose and prescriptive superiority inherent in these type of sayings that can be rather self-aggrandising, as well as snobbishly - or self-analytically, in the case of Yves Saint Laurent - dismissive of the idea of fashion. No one does particularly well by living under repression and tight diktats: it tends to make them explode. Reference every bell tower-based sniper ever and those funny sorts who favour only basic black, whips and hot wax
See, Vidal's position actually allows for interpretation and exploration. It is my belief that people do not fundamentally alter, but we can change the trimmings - what we want to say is prone to shift at will, no matter how secure we get. I should know - I'll probably amend and re-amend this entry within 5 minutes of your reading this
To illustrate my own point, I decided to pore over the archives of my ensembles going back to late 2008. I learned that I am still the same Master of Offbeat Formality that I have always been (according to my favourite primary school teacher, at least). But now, I look as if I ingest slightly less drugs
Look at this as the effects of better shopping choices and an expanding consideration. The ensembles don't contain any more or less thought than ever, and as was implied by my references last year to my unsteady employment, my budget certainly dwindled as 2009 wore on. But I changed because of my experimentation and my learning. And I experimented because I wanted to learn and to see myself change. The constants of this exploration were that I knew what I wanted and I didn't give a damn
My inclinations can run towards the brash, but of late I find it entertaining to be saucy in less obvious ways. Has anyone else tried oversized stainless steel eyeframes with their conservative suiting lately? It's so much more fun than bumfreezer jackets with 10" long arms; I'll always choose to appear ludic over appearing insane
A touch of the personal applied to entrenched standards usually creates the most interesting change in my eyes - there's nothing more exhilarating than making something your own: adding to the familiar without reinventing it utterly. After all, There Are No New Ideas any longer. Or so I've been told
My idea of change is effectively my idea of style. It is not to build and destroy. It's the confidence to accept what is already there and still look for different ways to see
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