A Gentlemanly Art

Adolpho perfects the art of matching his tie to the wallpaper.

Apparently fake ties are quite comme il faut amongst professional bouncers. Why? Because when a bouncer gets dragged (quite by his own fault of course) into an unseemly bout of fisticuffs, he can’t be strangled by his own tie. The elastic defeats the most determined of unruly barflies.

Better yet is the bowtie: because it is considered amusing, even clownish, it is sure to defuse a tense situation, thereby avoiding brawls with pugnacious patrons.

Apparently fake ties are quite comme il faut amongst professional bouncers.

However, if the gentleman – or the lady interested in storming this last bastion of men’s attire – is not a doorman, he might be interested in the half-windsor knot. Or even the four-in-hand.

Perhaps in fact, he – or she – is not well-versed in such niceties. 

Standing his ground: Adolpho demonstrates the art of withstanding all forms of blandishment.

In this case, let us today examine the half-windsor knot. This is a symmetrical tie that will be appropriate for any dress shirt, unlike the aforementioned four-in-hand which is oddly skewed (but good for button-down shirts seemingly).

Click on image for larger version. Download and print for future reference.

Doesn’t look complicated at all, does it? Be thankful that this is not the heydey of the cravat. This neckband originated in 17th century Croatia, and by many accounts there were hundreds of complicated styles to choose from, and tying them was in fact an artform. Crumpling three in a row and taking half an hour to knot one was a common occurrence.

Click image for larger version. (L-R) A self-patterned foulard cravat fastened with a cluster pearl pin is worn in the neck of a tailored suit with short revers; Kendal Milne fashion (Ph. Chaloner Woods, Getty Images); the modern man’s cravat in white, Burberry Prorsum Fall 2009; Oh, Mr Darcy! (Colin Firth as); a black cravat for today’s fashionista, Reyes Fall 2007; the original incarnation: Portrait of a Dandy with a White Cravat (c. 1815), Louis-Léopold Boilly.Still want to expand your horizons? Go to Tie-A-Tie for more than you ever thought you’d need to know about this gentlemanly art.

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Many thanks to Volodya for his patience, good humour and willingness to throw himself into any robe role!

From Lady to Ladette

Something very strange happens to Australian girls who attend the Spring Racing Carnival.

It must have something to do with the excitement of impending spring weather; the perfect excuse to purchase a new frock and some fripperies that will never be worn again (the ubiquitous feathered fascinator); the forbidden delight of having a little flutter at the races (GAMBLING!); the prospect of consuming vast quantities of sparkling wine; and the firm expectation of catching a glimpse of a rare sight: the young Australian male respectably attired in a SUIT.

But unfortunately it so often ends in tragedy: thunderstorms and muddied shoes; torn frocks and blistered feet; extreme intoxication; dishevelled clothing; short, handsomely-challenged boys; and no winnings to show for it. But what does that matter? It was soooo
much fun!

Below, a story in pictures… 

The Long And Short of It

Two pairs of kidskin gloves: shorties beautifully inset with battenberg lace, and divinely soft 22" opera gloves.I am sad to report that gloves are not very much in fashion. On the other hand (pun intended), it is probably a good thing as I would probably have an enormous collection overflowing my drawers and shrinking my bank account.

Ancient Histories

Illustration of Cyrano de Bergerac by Pierre BrissaudOnce upon a time however, gloves were full of meaning: you could throw down the gauntlet if someone jostled you in a doorway or, if insulted, slap your nemesis in the face. You could offer your glove on bended knee in homage – or in a complete about turn throw your glove at the King’s feet to challenge his right to reign. Or you could even lace one with poison and gift it to an enemy, such as was done in the fifteenth century to Jeanne d’Albret, the Queen Mother
of France.

…you could throw down the gauntlet
if someone jostled you in a doorway or, if insulted, slap your nemesis
in the face.

Fair ladies showed favour to their knight by bestowing a glove to be worn in tournament. In eighteenth century Central Europe, gloves signified an exchange of property. Dutchwomen could marry their long-distant fiancés by proxy – standing beside his portrait and clutching his glove – prior to sailing to the East Indies to meet him.

So much more interesting than modern times: we just use them to keep our hands warm. Or even more prosaically, protect them from the evil effects of dishwater, or harsh chemicals and the like.

Short or Long?

The empire-line gown Josephine made fashionable, worn with long (and ruched-down) gloves. Image from ‘The Fine Art of Fashion – An Illustrated History’, by Julian Robinson, Bay Books Australia.Glove length depends upon the occasion. I once read somewhere: the longer the glove, the more formal the occasion. However, historically, sleeve-length has also influenced the length of the gloves.

Over-the-elbow gloves first became fashionable towards the end of the eighteenth century, when Napoleon was rampaging all over Europe, and his Empress Josephine was dazzling fashionable society with Empire-line gowns – and long gloves of course (the better to disguise her ‘ugly’ hands). It was also very fashionable to scrunch them down so they wrinkled attractively.

Around 1810, when sleeves lengthened, gloves grew shorter, but long gloves were still worn with formal dress until around 1825. Then, the Victorian era’s fashionable tendencies towards longer-sleeved gowns made long gloves obsolete – even with shorter-sleeved eveningwear.

The Three Musketeers’ Legacy

Ah, so that’s how they did it! Drawing by Harrison Fisher.Made from delicate kidskin and coloured white, ivory or black, opera gloves are between 19 and 23 inches in length. They have a wrist opening that closes with three pearl buttons (although originally they did not), with three lines stitched across the back of the hand. In French, they are called mousquetaire gloves, and do in fact take their name from the French musketeers, being feminine adaptions of a style in use by these duellists.

The mousquetaire continued to be popular, particularly in the Edwardian period, and became associated with elegance and high class – a far cry from the medieval period. It was considered inappropriate to remove them in public
(far too alluring), so there was no slapping anyone in the face with these. Instead, many ladies made use of the wrist opening and slipped their hands through in order to eat or drink, without removing the glove itself.

Forbidden behaviour: removing gloves alluringly in public. These'd be no good for face slapping anyway.

The Rules for Gloves

Fast forward to the mid-twentieth century. By this time gloves of all lengths and styles were an indispensible accessory. One could not venture out of the house without gloves, but one was certainly permitted to remove them on certain occasions.

Eating, drinking, smoking, playing cards, applying makeup: all were forbidden activities in the 1960s. Bracelets were allowed on top of gloves, but rings were a positive no-no. (For the full list of Do’s and Don’ts, refer to Miss Abigail.)

These days so few women wear fashionable gloves that there are no official tenets governing their deployment…

These days so few women wear fashionable gloves that there are no official tenets governing their deployment: it is more likely simple common sense that will rule – or the whim of the moment. Gloves worn for warmth are cast off once one has reached one’s destination, while those worn for fashion are retained so long as food is not consumed. The former will most likely be stuffed into a pocket, and the latter (hopefully) sedately folded and tucked into a purse.

It is a pity, but there may not be too many opportunities to wear kidskin opera gloves these days, but there is a certain pleasure in owning a vintage pair. Gloves of all kinds are a delight to wear. I for one will not be foregoing any opportunity, even if I limit myself to less fragile pairs – it helps to own lots of these!

Label Etiquette

Today I’d like to address the issue of labels. We all know what they are: irritating little tags that poke into the back of your neck and make you itch.

Sometimes they stick out of your collar and you know nothing of the matter until some kind soul approaches and tucks it in neatly for you. Depending upon their manner, you are thankful, sheepish, or utterly humiliated.

The important point here is that clothing labels are by nature supposed to be hidden. This means inside your clothes. Not visible to the public.

Sometimes clothing manufacturers attach temporary labels to the exterior of their garments. This is usually for some kind of informational or promotional purpose.

…clothing labels are by nature supposed to be hidden.

One such example are the labels the Paddington Coat Factory attach to their coats, proudly proclaiming the fabric content to be 80% wool, 20% cashmere – that 20% is a huge selling point! No doubt this is to avoid the alarming tendency of the hoi polloi to paw the coat about, trying to ascertain this very information.

But I digress. Once you have purchased the item; taken it home and lovingly unwrapped it; and tenderly hung it on a padded satin hanger, it is permissible – nay, let us say imperative – that you untack the label and throw it into the bin immediately.

Unlike the otherwise impeccably attired gentleman pictured above, arm lovingly nestling his amour, I see absolutely no reason to advertise a designer’s name on your sleeve. Unless of course you heart them very much.

Sew Necessary

Put your hand up if you like mending. Anyone? Anyone at all? … I thought not. Neither do I.

It is one of those pesky little chores that I put off for as long as possible. It’s not that I don’t know how to sew on a missing button – it’s more the fact this little chore always seems to consume an inordinate amount of time, what with hauling out the sewing box; threading needles; hunting for the missing button that I had put in a very safe place… so safe I can’t find it again.

However tedious it is though, it must be done. There is nothing more slovenly than gadding about in disreputable garments. Which means said garments are pulled off the hanger only to be immediately returned to them, unworn, when I realise I have not re-attached that belt loop, or replaced that button.

There is nothing more slovenly than gadding about in disreputable garments.

So, sew. My sewing box is actually a vintage tin, which I find more aesthetically appealing that one of those sewing boxes upholstered in tapestry fabric available from haberdashers. I have sorted out its contents into clear plastic bags so I can locate the required notion with minimum fuss. I also have a mini sewing kit for my bag – coincidentally a vintage-style tin that has become battered through the years.

Once upon a time I even knew how to operate a sewing machine. Back in high school I studied textiles in grade 7. None of our projects were particularly ambitious, but I still have one of the items I made from scraps scrounged from my older sister Blossom: a pencil case with the word ‘love’ spelled out on it.

One day I shall actually take that sewing machine mum bought me a couple of years ago out of storage and learn how to use it.