The Well-Dressed Gentleman

The Button Hole of Antiquity

2013-02-09T10:21:00.001-05:00

When I last wrote--years ago now--about the origins of the button-hole/boutonnière, I'm afraid I misled the public. The whole intent was to demonstrate what a gentleman Prince Albert was, and how little today the flower in the lapel makes an appearance (a tragic absence, I think). And in my exuberance I overplayed my hand, giving total credit to the Prince Consort and neglecting any deep historical analysis, thus presenting a rather dodgy portrait of the true antiquity of the buttonhole flower. And so, while the main points of the article stand, for the origin of the button hole, allow me to refer you to the Gentleman's Gazette, to whom I am indebted for the correction. For etiquette, gentlemanly example, and why wearing a flower in the old lapel button-hole is a grand idea, I hope the Well-Dressed Gent article spurs suit-wearing men to action. And in re this action, I present a new poll, to the top right of the page.

The Gentleman, Morality, Jobs, and St. Thomas More

2013-01-25T17:29:00.000-05:00

When I was a child, I quietly made the decision, at various points, to be good—even heroically good. To paraphrase St. Thomas More, my plan was to do no harm to anyone, to think no harm of anyone, but to wish everybody good, and to defend people who could not defend themselves. It was a strong desire. It wasn’t something I spoke of to anyone; it was quiet and subtle, but strong, like a sunset: beautiful, good, fresh, quiet, yet powerful. The beauty of childhood; I was around 6 or 7 or thereabouts. I don’t know if this is a common childhood experience or not, but I can say this: although these aspirations have never ceased, I have taken a vacation from them here and there over the years (never to any good end, I should add). A gentleman may fall, but he trusts in God’s mercy, knows himself weak, picks himself up, and tries his best once again.

It’s a great maxim, that saying by St. Thomas More, and one to which every gentleman should aspire, and perhaps should carry about with him written on a scrap of paper in his wallet: “I do nobody harm, I say none harm, I think none harm, but wish everybody good.” And if you fall flat on your face, however bad it may seem, get up again, so as to end well.

Anyhow, this got me thinking about some basic insights in re morality, how it is intrinsically good, never a means to something else, but good and beautiful in itself. Just some basic insights mind you, applicable to everyone, and good for the gentleman to ponder:

1) Moral virtues never present themselves as a means to something else. For example, you see the honesty and purity of your girlfriend or wife, and you can see that those things are good in themselves. They’re not like a piece of rope that only has moral relevance, for example, to pull a drowning man out of the water, and after the saving is done the piece of rope lapses back into moral insignificance.

2) Following on the above, a means to something else is commonly disregarded once the end has been achieved. But morality, being a good in itself, cannot be set aside as irrelevant. To use the above example, once you marry your sweetheart who is so honest you expect that honesty to continue. If she says she was only honest so you would marry her, then sets honesty aside as being no longer useful, you would find you had married someone who is not what you thought, their beauty diminished, and yourself wondering if the dinner on the table really was made from scratch. But mostly it would be horrible to see someone you love lose such an intrinsically precious aspect of their character. Morality, that is, makes us beautiful, more human.

3) If one were to take morality as a means to something else, it would sever the aspect of obligation we find in the moral sphere. For example, if you were passing a house and saw an unattended baby drowning in a small pool of water you would not think, “If I save the baby I may get a reward, and if I do not save it, I won’t. I must choose if I want that reward or not.” No, we find rather an obligation: “You MUST save that baby!” And the gentleman springs into action. There is this obligatory nature to morality. One thinks of criminals who after many years confess to the police or a friend, because they just can’t take it—their conscience smites them. All too many of us, perhaps, know of the sleepless night because we have done something we knew to be seriously wrong (a good sign though—it means your conscience is working; it’s the ones who can sleep peacefully after doing despicable things that are the ones I worry about).

4) Morality, taken as means, ignores the depth of the moral call. It’s not something that can be set aside at some point. Not one of us can say, “I have reached moral perfection now.” It’s the work of a lifetime, a daily work. If one had nothing else to do the next day, there is always this: to work at becoming a better, a truer, a more loving and lovable gent.

One final note, continuing the St. Thomas More theme. He likens life in this world to be, in a sense, like a play on a great stage. Your role may be the wealthy fellow, a King, a poor beggar, a simple family man, a mechanic, a composer of awe-inspiring music. But when the play is done, we all take off our costumes, King and beggar alike, and what is underneath? What are we, once the costume is removed? When you leave this world—who knows when—and you take nothing with you, your costume remaining here at the theatre, what will you have? What will you look like? I don’t know when my role on the stage will be complete, nor do you know of your exit, but one day all of us will lack our costumes, and on that equal playing field there will be no King or office manager, no wealthy chap nor poor beggar: what’s on the inside is what will show forth. It’s not the splash you make in this world that counts—it’s how you live.

Oh right, on a last, genuinely final note, I wanted to add this: how you live includes how you live when you have—as is all too common today—lost your job. I only mention this because it is so prevalent. But remember this—it is we who give dignity to work, work does not give dignity to us. If, gentlemen, you lose your job, do not despair. You have intrinsic worth that cannot be taken away by lack of work. You have far, far more to offer than mere work. And this is coming from a fellow who has been there, for years! No matter how bad it gets, stay positive: the stars still shine, and in time all will be well. In the meantime, live well, practice patience, persevere, frequently tell jokes, learn to play the piano, or write a book. Well, look for work too, but make the best of it, and despite the stress, remember—there are greater things in the world than this to be concerned with, and worse things that could happen. Be at peace.

And so gentlemen, today I leave you with the words, once again, of St. Thomas More (in fact, the more (no pun intended) one ponders these words, the more one realizes how dashed tricky it is to really live this)—and as I said in the last post, paste it into your hat:

“I do nobody harm, I say none harm, I think none harm, but wish everybody good.”

The Theatre, and a Splendid Website

2013-01-24T14:42:00.002-05:00

Recently I happened upon a wonderful blog by Joanna Burgess, pages full of good things--articles, poetry, videos of beautiful music, wonderful accents, and merry wit. It's rare to find such a--well, I would say such a beautiful and enchanting website.

Specific to the gentlemanly nature of The Well-Dressed Gentleman, I'd like to post a recent article from Joanna's website--not written by Joanna, but by a fellow named Howard Shalwitz and posted by Joanna. It's a great article on why theatre--not the movie theatre, but real, live theatre--matters. Read it and paste it into your hat...and find a good play to attend; Shakespeare is always good. Or, yes, opera. In fact, if you can find Don Giovanni by Mozart, give it a whirl. Seeing an immoral fellow at the point of death, threatened with Hell, and refusing to repent even as he is dragged downward--all set to Mozart's music--sends shivers up the spine. Lots of true humanity in that opera throughout, from the humorous, to the sad, to the terrifying.

Anyway, here is that splendid article. And don't forget to check out Joanna's blog.

7 Reasons Why Theatre Makes Our Lives Better

As someone who came from a family of doctors, started out pre-med in college, detoured to philosophy, then teaching, and finally to theatre — not only did my career choices slide steadily downhill from my mother's perspective, but I was left with a moral conundrum: does my chosen profession, theatre, make a valuable contribution to the world when compared with the other professions I left behind? I guess this conundrum has stuck with me, because as recently as this past winter I made a list of seven reasons why theatre matters and I'd like to share them with you briefly tonight.

First, theatre does no harm. Theatre is one of those human activities that doesn't really hurt anyone or anything (except for its carbon footprint -- but let's ignore that for now). While we're engaged in making or attending theatre, or any of the arts for that matter, we are not engaged in war, persecution, crime, wife-beating, drinking, pornography, or any of the social or personal vices we could be engaged in instead. For this reason alone, the more time and energy we as a society devote to theatre and the arts, the better off we will be.

Second, theatre is a sophisticated expression of a basic human need -- one might call it an instinct -- to mimic, to project stories onto ourselves and others, and to create meaning through narrative and metaphor.. We see this instinct expressed in children when they act out real or imagined characters and events. We have evidence of theatre-like rituals in some of the oldest human societies, long before the foundations of Western theatre in Ancient Greece. So theatre matters, in essence, because we can't help it. It's part of what makes us human.

Third, theatre brings people together. For a performance to happen, anywhere from a hundred to a thousand or more people need to gather in one place for a couple of hours, and share together in witnessing and contemplating an event that may be beautiful, funny, moving, thought-provoking, or hopefully at least diverting. And in an age when most of our communication happens in front of a screen, I think that this gathering function of theatre is, in and of itself, something that matters.

Fourth, theatre models for us a kind of public discourse that lies at the heart of democratic life, and builds our skills for listening to different sides of a conversation or argument, and empathizing with the struggles of our fellow human beings whatever their views may be. When we watch a play, we learn what happens when conflicts don't get resolved, and what happens when they do. We develop our faculty for imagining the outcomes of various choices we might make in our personal lives and our political lives. It's not surprising that, in repressive societies, theatre has often been aligned with the movement toward openness and freedom. In South Africa theatre played a role in the struggle against apartheid; in Czechoslovakia, a playwright became the leader of a new democracy. If our own representatives and senators in Washington went to the theatre more often, I suspect we'd all be better off.

Fifth, both the making of theatre and attending of theatre contribute to education and literacy. Watching the characters talk back and forth in the theatre is tricky; it requires sharp attention, quick mental shifts, and nimble language skills. It teaches us about human motivation and psychology. In historical plays we get lessons in leadership and government. In contemporary plays, we learn about people and cultures in different parts or our own country or in other countries. Studies have shown that students who participate in theatre do better in school. Making plays together also draws kids out of their shells and helps them learn to socialize in a productive and healthy way.

Sixth, theatre as an industry contributes to our economy and plays a special role in the revitalization of neglected neighborhoods. We've seen this quite clearly in our own city. You can look at the role that the Studio Theatre played along the 14th Street corridor, or Shakespeare Theatre along Seventh Street, or Woolly in both these neighborhoods, or Gala Hispanic Theatre in Columbia Heights, the Atlas along H Street, or the new Arena Stage along the waterfront. As each of these theatres opened, new audiences started flooding in, new restaurants opened, jobs were created, the city improved the sidewalks, and neighborhoods that were once grim and forbidding became vibrant hubs of activity. And this pattern has been repeated in cities across the United States and around the world.

Finally, the seventh way that theatre matters -- and this one applies to some kinds of theatre more than others -- is that it influences the way we think and feel about our own lives and encourages us to take a hard look at ourselves, our values, and our behavior. The most vivid example of this I've ever experienced was during a post-show discussion at Woolly Mammoth when a woman said that one of our plays made her and her husband decide that they had a serious problem in their marriage and needed to go for counseling; and she was pleased to report that they were still together and much happier as a result. Now, I'll admit, I don't hear things like this every day. But speaking more generally isn't this one of the things we go to the theatre for, to measure our own lives against the lives we see depicted on the stage, to imagine what it would be like if we had those lives instead? And isn't it a very short step from there to saying, gee, maybe there's something I should change about my own life? And it may have nothing to do with the message that the playwright wanted to deliver! Maybe the play is about a fierce battle over a family dinner that breaks the family apart over irreconcilable political divisions -- but maybe you watch the play and say, gosh, wouldn't it be nice to at least have a family dinner once in a while, and so you decide to plan one for next month.

So, those are my seven ways that theatre matters: it does no harm, expresses a basic human instinct, brings people together, models democratic discourse, contributes to education and literary, sparks economic revitalization, and influences how we think and feel about our own lives.

Howard Shalwitz is the Artistic Director at Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company.

Wow, You Look Sharp! Do You Have a Meeting?

2012-05-09T08:44:00.000-04:00

I don't know if you've come across this, but I'll bet most of you have at some point. You pull on a snappy ensemble, kiss the wife adieu and head to work. When you get there you're greeted with this unfortunate comment: "You look sharp! Very business like. Do you have a meeting?"

That's just a symptom of the problem--the loss of the culture of gentlemanly dapper panache. These days, most people are of this mindset: A suit is for business, maybe a wedding or funeral. The rest of one's days are meant for jeans or shorts and perhaps, just maybe if they want to punch it up a bit, a polo shirt. How we got from the 1940s to now is too large of a horse to tackle in this particular post, mostly because this post is being written in the late eve, when gentleman are either a) preparing for the bedtime repast of scotch, whisky or [name your potion], or b) on the third course of a late night dinner party. I am n the "a" category" tonight.

But it is a sad state of loopiness when dressing well equals business, rather than pleasure. True, this is the same culture that mistakes casual-dress for men with dressing like a child or, at best, your common teenager.

We should define our terms though.

Casual-dress=[this is but one example, and a standard one] a blue blazer with brass buttons and white or gray pants.

Semi-formal=a suit.

Formal=tuxedo or morning dress.

Yet, most would call all of the above "formal." Now I don't mean jeans and a t-shirt don't have their place; they do, and so do shorts. But that's not even casual wear--it's either super-casual ("super" meaning "beyond"), or else sporting-wear.

None of this answers the question though: How to change these insane sartorial attitudes. When one watches Jeeves and Wooster one does not think, "Ah, Bertie is on his way to the old office." No, one thinks, "Now that is how a man about town ought to dress every time he goes out--Bertie must be headed to a restaurant or the Drones Club, or to the country to help a pal." Basically, when you see Bertie putting on a suit it means he is going outside of his flat, end of story. And he looks every bit the dapper lad. There's no office involved, for goodness sakes. Indeed, wearing a suit or else nice pants and a sport coat, from Bertie's time (1920's/30's) until recently, were simply de riguer.

This post isn't going to reach many people who don't already dress, or are thinking about dressing, like gentlemen. But let us encourage one another to do at least one thing to influence the world for the better--wear true casual-wear or suits as a matter of course, unless reason prohibits it for some reason (heat, illness, sports and the like, viz, times when one can't wear such an ensemble or other wear is called for). The more of us that can answer the "why so dressed up today, do you have a meeting?" With, "Just to dress up, to look like a gentleman" the more people will expect real men to dress thus.

If more men did, what a difference it would make! Dressing well makes one want to act better, speak better, and be more chivalrous; and it helps others want to do likewise. Women will begin to expect that real men dress like men, not like teenagers. The world will be more pleasant to walk about in.

Courage! Keep dressing like real men, and whatever happens--well, it's like what Guggenheim said when the Titanic was going down and there was nothing more he could do--when the most recent movie came out youngsters everywhere laughed at him, but in real life it was an astoundingly brave and gentlemanly way to face death: He had helped women and children to get to boats, and decided not to get in one himself so that he wouldn't take their ticket to safety. He then said, on behalf of himself and his friends, "We are dressed in our best and prepared to go down like gentlemen. And we would like a brandy."

Now that's a gentleman, dressed to the nines whether in life or preparing for death, bravely facing his own demise as he sacrifices himself to let women and children live. Lads, that's a good example right there. We, too, can aspire to being such true gentlemen! And it does take work--but it's worth it.

Butter Beer

2012-04-20T10:40:00.002-04:00

If you're reading anything on this website, you probably enjoy cocktails, an occasional pipe or cigarette, and various other politicly-incorrect behaviour. In other words, you're normal. There's also a good chance you've watched Jeeves and Wooster, in re the A & E series. And thus, you've perhaps seen the "Kidnapped" episode. That episode, more than any others, is packed with the politically incorrect, which means it's full of reality and sanity. And hilarity. If it were in the theatres today it would be rated R, because it contains:

* Drinking of alcoholic cocktails
* Men and women smoking cigarettes and cigars--indoors
* Woman wearing a fox stole
* Black-faced minstrels
* Corporal punishment
* Portraying women in all the glory of their particularly womanly logic
* Men and women actually becoming engaged to be married, rather that just living together
* Proper gender roles (man pushing car that's out of gas, rather than woman pushing it)

Not only that, but all these elements are all portrayed in a positive and humorous light!

Well, as Bertie Wooster might say, "There it is, what?"

So what does this have to do with anything? For one, it's an awesome thing to see. And two, it reminded me of a cocktail--well, sort of--that I've been meaning to post.

It's a simple drink, and if you like both beer and eggnog, you'll probably like this. It's a medieval drink, great for a cold evening: Buttered Beer. (Due to it's alcohol, sugar and high butter content, however, it is highly incorrect according to the government.)

The recipe takes about ten minutes. You'll need:

1) One can of beer, like lager--something without a lot of fruity taste and what-not.
2) An egg yolk
3) Around 1/4 cup of sugar (or more if you like)
4) About 1/8 or so teaspoon of: nutmeg and cloves, allspice
5) About 1/16 or so teaspoon of ginger
6) 2 or 3 tablespoons of butter

Of course, all these amounts can be changed to your liking, or you can leave out a spice against which your taste buds rebel.

Then, put a smallish pot or kettle on the stove, about medium high. Put the egg yolk in, and start slowly pouring in the beer. Begin to poor right away, or the heat will scramble your egg. While you're pouring in the beer, whisk. Once all the beer is in, let it sit there until it just begins to start bubbling, then take it off the heat right away. Pour in the sugar and spices, and whisk that in well. Drop the butter into the mix, and mix that in. Then, pour it into a drinking vessel, and enjoy the sugary, spicy, buttery, alcoholic warmth.

And don't forget to watch "Kidnapped."

Not Dead...and still well dressed

2012-04-13T15:15:00.000-04:00

What-ho, what-ho, what-ho! Well, at least to any readers who may be left, and to any new readers who may now be enthralled with and/or irritated by this venerable website, I say a hearty What-ho!

So, where have I been? Looking for work, finding part-time work, losing part-time work, trying to keep life going smoothly and merrily in this rather distressing situation, and working on a Master's Degree to help--God willing--relieve this distressing situation. And all the while being well-dressed.

But enough of that. "What," you're wondering, "is the style news?" Well, you may have noticed that being well-dressed in society at-large seems to have taken a few steps back. If I were a politician, I would sponsor a bill that would cause any man between the ages of 18 and 192 to be--well, I don't know just now, but it would be something uncomfortable--for dressing like a kid. Men who are 18, 52, or 67 years old should not, should not, should not be wearing shorts, flip flops and a baseball hat unless they're at the blooming beach, or other swimming venue. I don't know about you, but any time I see one of these fellows with their date or wife, I want to go over to the wife and say, "You're son is so well behaved." For goodness sakes, men, be men! Dress like men! Stop showing us your lousy legs, knees and feet. Perhaps, however, the baseball hat is constricting their brains.

Well, let's leave those fellows to themselves for now, if they can be responsible on their own for five minutes. For Spring/Summer, one of the great combinations for us lads is grey flannel pants (or similar material--grey dress pants, let's just say), and a dark blue blazer. But when it's too hot, who wants the blazer? There are two options:

1) Grey flannel pants and a dark blue polo shirt, with the usual brown dress shoes.
2) Dark blue pants with a medium to dark grey polo shirt, with the usual brown shoes.

For some reason, I prefer the latter.

So, get out there, and dress--well, dress like it's 1912 or so, can't go wrong much there. Ah, no, there were no polo shirts then, but you get the gist. I hope women do the same--a woman is at her prettiest when she's not dressed like she's headed for the red-light district. I'm serious--from top to floor, be covered. That way we can see your beautiful face and personality without distraction. When marriage comes along, you and your husband can distract each other then. At any other time, modesty and good style should be the watchwords of ladies and gentlemen.

The Game of Kings and Gentlemanly Virtue

2011-08-05T11:48:00.001-04:00

Well, it's Summer--that's what the thermometer is saying anyway (more like screaming, at temperatures in the 90's and 100's)--so it's a corking time to reprint the article on THE GAME...

Chess? Marbles? Horse-Shoes? Perhaps volley ball? No, the game of Kings is—now, if I told you right off the bat some of you would have already said, “Well, enough reading for the night, Jeeves, an early bed-time I think,” because the game of which I speak is Golf. OK, it’s not necessarily a game for Kings, but it is a game (it’s not actually a sport) for gentlemen! Bear with me here—about 4 years ago I had as much interest in golf as I do now in knitting a sweater, or being stung by a bee. Why, you may be asking, do I stun your eyes with words like “golf?” Consider these gentlemanly virtues, brought about by the game of golf in a way that few other games can match:

Honor. There are no referees in golf. You can be honest, or not. Only God and you know if you quietly kick the ball to a better position for your next shot. The honorable man will play fair even under these circs, though he be sorely tempted to cheat (and this temptation will arise…)

Patience. With yourself, with your mistakes and bad shots, with your teammate who is perhaps either too slow, or too good.

Humility. Golf almost looks easy. What could be simpler, after all, than whacking a ball with a stick into a hole in the ground? Simple, however, does not mean easy. Not easy: hit a small ball 300 yards accurately, avoiding lakes, streams, sand pits, tall grass, geese, and other golfers, so as to be able to get it into the few-inch diameter hole in only 3 or 4 shots—or less. As any one who has played one mere hole or two of golf will admit—this game will teach you humility, and honor—this is where the temptation to cheat comes in, because when you hit the ball everywhere but where you want it to go the temptation will arise, hideously, to covertly move the ball to where you can knock it into the hole in at least under 12 shots. You were upset when at the 5^th shot you still weren’t near the hole, but now at 10, you are about to kill one of those geese with your 3-wood.

Self-control. After you successfully avoid taking out a few geese, you will be tempted (and this is only 10 or 15 minutes in, perhaps) to twist every club, including and perhaps especially, the putter, into a masterpiece of bent-metal modern art. See #’s 2 and 3.

Concentration. The amount of concentration it takes to hit a golf ball is staggering. When people are watching this can cause the beginner to smack the ball so far that he can’t see it, because he just clipped the ball, and it rolled an inch in front of him. Yeah, that counts as one stroke—only 2 or 3 left, and you're over the allotted number. Concentrate. Repeat #’s 2-4 if necessary.

Nature. Right-ho, that is not a virtue. I’m pleased you’re still with us here at number 6. Golf is usually played amongst beautiful scenery. The course is serene, (except for the honking of fleeing geese and the sound of breaking metal), there are ponds, trees, the sound of wind rustling the leaves, the sun, the fresh air. If you are at a links course, that means you are also by the sea-side, with wonderful, salty ocean air. It is a great place to spend time, even apart from golf, and during the game it helps relax one between fits of violent lunacy. If you are not impeded by time or nature, avoid the golf cart—golf should be played, when possible, by walking from one place to the next, enjoying the scenery, the camaraderie, the exercise, the knowledge that your next shot will be perfect.

Obsession. Toward the end, when you realize that you have done a few things well, many not, but have remained an honorable gentleman, this thought may occur to you: “I know I can hit the ball straighter and more accurately—I was just standing/swinging/aiming/taking the wind direction into account all wrong. Do we have to leave? Just one more game…

A final note. A few of you may be desirous of quoting Mark Twain at this point: “Golf is a good walk spoiled.” I, too, used to quote Twain in this regard, until I realized he is totally wrong. If golf were a walk, it would indeed be “a good walk spoiled.” But golf is not a walk—it contains walking, but golf is a game, not a walk. They are separate things entirely, and both have their place. There is nothing like a good walk. But for building gentlemanly virtue and character, golf is a king amongst other games.

Well-Dressed Entertainment

2011-04-27T13:18:00.000-04:00

Popping off to the Well-Dressed Gentleman website, you'll notice a new addition on the top right corner of the page: Gentlemanly music and books! Listen to one, or all; while you're on the ol' gents' website, or while you're tromping off to the far reaches of the internet (as long as the Well-Dressed site remains on, the music or books will keep on playing, whatever other tabs or pages you open). I'll add to the playlist periodically, and if you have any ideas, let me know (of course, submission of ideas may or may not lead to inclusion in the playlist; I'm pretty persnickety, if persnickety is the word I want, when it comes to the content on my website).

Cheerio!

Pajamas Yes, Blue Jeans not so much

2011-04-26T22:35:00.001-04:00

If you often find yourself sitting about at home in your pajamas, chances are that now and again someone comes to the door. This happens to me more than it used to, since I spend so much time here perusing the internet for job openings. I mean to say, one gets out of bed, eventually, and then one obtains the necessary black liquid and plunges into the electronic world of job applications. It used to be that one would go to an actual store or business and fill out a paper application or deliver a paper resume. Not so anymore! Sure, for part-time jobs, that's still often the case; but this isn't the norm anymore for full-time positions. In a way, this is good--applying online is much easier than printing out resumes and carrying them hither and yon. Now, a click or two of the button sends the cover letter and resume instantly. And yet, it lacks personal presence. But there it is.

So, there you are in your pajamas--and I should add that what I am about to say applies to gentlemen only--and someone knocks at the door, or perhaps the mail has arrived, or you have to sign for a package. Your first instinct may be to run for the closet and change. Well, forget that. The truth of the matter is that it's been the custom for many a decade that a gentleman in pajamas--and preferably robe and slippers (the complete bed-time ensemble)--can thus receive visitors of equal (friends, family) or lesser status (tradesmen, postal workers, neighbors, etc). If you're like me, you're probably reading this and thinking "Have I been mysteriously transferred to a perfect world?" Ha-ha! No. But it's one of those things that make life grand!

Blue jeans are not, however, totally unrelated to the above. While I've been sitting at home without a full-time paid position (I'm certainly not jobless--I have more to do now I think than I did with a job!--looking for work, keeping up the house, writing to people, sleeping and so on), I've had much less chance to dress up in any way remotely resembling Beau Brummel:

Chance to wear suit and Fedora, nil;
Chance to wear blazer and dress pants, nil;
Chance to wear pajamas, blue jeans and the like, 99%

Now, again, the pajamas I like. You can really dress up with pajamas, a nice robe and a pair of slippers and look every bit the gent. But the rest of the time--well, it's blue jeans or similar.

Some of you may be thinking, "Why not dress up anyway?" Well, for a few reasons, I simply can't wear a suit at home:

1) Why put wear and tear on the suits, shirts, etc, when the only one who will see me is mostly me?
2) There's a great deal of housework to do, and the finery will simply end up covered in dirt, dish water, trash, you name it.

But--I grow weary of donning blue jeans and t-shirts, and this has led me to a take a slightly new course. Well, one other thing has as well, but I'll get to that. The new course is this: Except for working in the yard or home fixing and painting projects, no more jeans. No, instead, I'm going to don the khaki or blue dress pants, and polo shirts (since the weather's turned warm). Good, gentlemanly causal wear. If they do get dirty, and they will, it's not as much of an issue as a wounded suit or tie. Besides, such pants and shirts can be pretty inexpensive if they need to be replaced. A Fedora or English Driving Cap isn't out of place with such an ensemble, either. And I'll look more the gent than just sitting about in jeans. Not that blue jeans are a sartorial faux pas. They have their place; I'm just tired of the very casual look day in, day out.

So, what's the other reason? I know I've lamented it before, but since I've begun writing here it's become still worse: Men dressing like slobs. Walk out the door almost anywhere and you will see herds of lads hurling themselves about in shorts, flip flops, a t-shirt and a baseball hat. That's great for the beach. It's not great for going most anywhere else. For example, this past Sunday was Easter Sunday. Perhaps some of you are Christians and were at Easter services. I'm a Catholic myself, and was at Mass of course, as every Sunday, on Easter. And what did I see? I saw three men dressed as they should be--myself, one 80 year old guy, and one other fellow about my age. The rest of the men you would think just strolled in from a long and somewhat difficult day at the seaside; a bunch of disheveled, severely under-dressed blokes.

I'm pretty sure that anyone reading this, religious or not, would agree that if one does go to a religious service of some sort that due respect should be shown. Of course, these same men would wear this outfit for most any event. If they could meet the Queen of England, and be admitted in such an outfit as described above, they would do it. Nothing in life, apparently, has any gravity for them, including God.

The whole image these lads convey isn't one that says "I take life pretty easy" but "I really take nothing seriously, I have no respect for myself or others; I dress however I want with no regard for anyone but myself. And I'm lazy. I just can't be bothered putting actual clothes on." The way one dresses really does say a lot about a person; not everything, to be sure, but it does provide some dim intimation, at the very least. For example, put a well-dressed gentleman together with a slob and you will see in the gent's face that it is only manly, gentlemanly restraint which prevents him from whacking the slob in the shins with his walking stick or umbrella.

In a word, I am absolutely sick of this culture of wimpy men, lazy men, feminized men, un-cultured men. And that's the other reason for my eschewing blue jeans except for very specific applications--that is, using them for their original purpose only, which was physical labor. I think the under-dressing problem has gotten so bad that there really needs to be a huge surge of gentlemen dressing and acting like gentlemen, and even dressing a bit better than they normally would at home or at the zoo and what-not. Wear some nice pants, a good shirt, and a decent, non-baseball hat, that's my plan!

Toodle-pip, gentlemen!

Where Have You Been...

2011-04-11T11:36:00.000-04:00

Where have I been, indeed. If this blog has any followers left, may I say that you are among the most loyal, and dare I say fanatical, fans in the whole sartorial world.

In fact, I've been here. I mean, not staring at a blank page thinking of things of which to write, but here, in the world, by the computer or with newspaper in hand, looking for a job. Having lost my job of 10 years due to lay-offs, I have been spending most of my time trying to find work, not lose our house, figure out how to pay bills, and so on. And, after 2 years of looking, not one blasted offer of work. I did, I am happy to report, hear good things from a variety of popular newspapers here in the USA, saying that my writing is wonderful, but either not the proper fit for them, or that they don't have a budget for any new special columnists anytime in the next century due to our collapsing economy. Yes, collapsing it seems. When over 500 people apply for one janitorial job in one small town (not here), something is amiss. Indeed, most of the jobs I've applied for have over 300 applicants. A lot of people have just quit looking for work.

So, that's what I've been up to. I've not forgotten the Well-Dressed Gentleman website, and it will continue. Next, I suppose I'll write a bit about pajama culture, because that's my morning-time job searching outfit of choice--on with slippers and robe (though it's getting warmer now), obtain the black gold (coffee), and get to the work of looking for paying work.

So, that article is upcoming. I have another on the front burner as well. and if any of you are in a position hire someone for, well, almost anything, or have some good contacts, send me an offer of employment. Or at least a check...I'm out of gin and the last time a martini and I met was, oh, months ago now.

Pip-pip; future articles en route...

Butter, Bacon, Bourbon...and Billionaires

2010-12-05T17:06:00.001-05:00

Billionaires Bacon--bacon with brown sugar sprinkled on it and then cooked in the oven--is one of the most...oh bother, is it even necessary to describe it? It's bacon, bacon coated with brown sugar for goodness sakes, it needs no further description. But there is one thing that is, perhaps, even better: Buttered Billionaire's Bacon Bourbon. Buttered Bourbon you may have imbibed, Billionaire's Bacon you may have munched on, but the combination of the two renders a hot drink that will make you wish it would stay winter for a lot longer.

First, making bacon bourbon. Easy. Cook some bacon. Save about 1-2 ounces of the bacon fat, then put it and a 750 ml bottle of bourbon into a glass jar. Let it sit for several hours/overnight. Then put it in the freezer for several more hours, or over another night (depends how cold your freezer is); the fat will solidify, and the alcohol just gets cold without freezing. Then you can strain the bourbon back into the original bottle through cheesecloth, or lacking that, a coffee filter (don't forget to put your straining device into a funnel, or you'll have bourbon running all over the kitchen floor). You could also double strain the bourbon, straining it into another glass jar and then straining it into the original bottle. I would probably suggest the double straining method for extra purity.

OK, so, you've got bacon bourbon! Now, to the recipe. I don't know if anyone else has invented this--I imagine someone has; either way, I'm calling it...

Hot Buttered Billionaire's Bacon Bourbon

Ingredients:

2 ounces of bacon bourbon
5 ounces of hot water
1 ounce of brown sugar syrup (recipe follows)
small bit of butter (1/3 of a tablespoon perhaps)

Heat up 5 ounces of water to near boiling. About 1 min. 40 sec in microwave.
Pour bourbon into a drinking vessel.
Pour hot water into bourbon.
Pour 1 ounce of brown sugar syrup into the mixture and stir a bit.
Put in the butter and let it melt.
Drink slowly on a cold night.

Its a simple recipe, but you will be amazed at how good it is. Now, you may be thinking, as I did at first, that 5 ounces of water is a lot for that little bit of bourbon. But the genius to this recipe (the base recipe is not mine of course, I just added the idea of baconizing it) is the brown sugar syrup--the depth and taste of the syrup mixes with the water and perfectly compliments the bourbon, boosting the depth of what would otherwise be watery bourbon.

Brown Sugar Syrup

Ingredients:

1 cup light brown sugar
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
2 cups water
3 Tbs. unsalted butter

In a sauce pan, bring both sugars, corn syrup, and water to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer vigorously until thickened to a syrupy consistency, 10 to 15 minutes.

Store it in the fridge. Should be good for around 6 weeks (around the refrigerated life of butter, though I hear from some butter can go longer).

One year ago, a re-post: Christmas on the Front

2010-11-29T16:31:00.000-05:00

Trenches in World War I were muddy, messy, dangerous places; the sort that could cave in, the kind where diseases lurked and bullets whizzed by you from an enemy sometimes as close as 30 yards away. Just beyond your cozy bunker, bombs were being lobbed into no man's land, or into your trench if it was dug in a bad spot.

But on Christmas night, 1914, along a good portion of the front, the Germans did something a bit unexpected: They invited the English to join them in no man's land to sing Christmas carols. Pretty soon both sides were not only singing, but were engaged in fierce matches of soccer. They shared cigarettes, and showed one another photos of loved ones back home. It was a moment of sanity and humanity in the midst of horror and, well, insanity. And it was brought about not by the commanders, but by the guys doing the dirty work, the common soldiers. Some of the commanders did approve of the festivities, while others were afraid it was allowing the enemy to restructure their defenses. Maybe other commanders were afraid that peace might break out.

But it was the right response--gentlemen may be compelled to fight, and they hopefully fight honorably, but a gentleman knows that Christmas is not the time to be fighting. It's, well, Christmas. Via Charles Dickens, Scrooge's nephew put it very well indeed:

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round--apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that--as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

With that in mind, please take a listen to one of the best, least played and most under-rated Christmas carols of all time, "Snoopy's Christmas." It's located at the top right of this page.

A Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!

Party Etiquette and the Cliche; things not to do, things not to say

2010-11-26T14:20:00.003-05:00

I'm probably "preaching to the choir," but I'm going to "bite the bullet" and "tell it like it is." So, consider this an "FYI" and "man up" (unless you're a woman, in which case, don't). Well, that's a few of the most commonly used cliche phrases anyway. Annoying, isn't it? Most of us let them slip now and again, but as for me, I'm trying to restrict their usage to pointing out how obnoxious over-used phrases can be. I imagine most gentlemen try to avoid them.

Certainly once one becomes aware of cliches--as well as the all too common and lightly muttered pop-psychological insights of wisdom by people who have no concept of how the human mind works--wait now where was I? That's the trouble with sentences that are too long, they lead to forgetfulness and digressions. Ah yes, there's my spot...once you become aware of these trite nuggets you'll start finding them everywhere, and become increasingly de-enamored of them. You'll want to "think outside the box." Then you'll kick yourself for using them. And then you'll start inventing your own clever phrases, which will make you sound creative, intelligent, and interesting. Girls will flock to the gentleman who thus speaks--I know a fellow who was inadvertently calendared to marry 4 girls in one week due to confusion over the amount of ladies willing to marry him and bad organizational habits, and all merely due to his cessation of the phrase "says you," which he replaced with "Would you like me to throw a cat at you?" Not, perhaps, the clearest of expressions, but one understands his meaning and gives him an A+ for creativity and an A for his knowledge of the use of felines in thwarting unwanted repartee (that's another post though).

But what, you ask, does that have to do with party etiquette? Nothing, not directly anyway; though an overuse of the phrase "I wish we could get the dwarfs to shave their legs, but how often did Abe Lincoln sit on an upright tooth-pick anyway" started several small wars, the advent of the modern donut shop and Einstein's theory of special and general relativity.

So, dinner parties. It's the "holiday season" and everyone's either hosting a party or attending one. Besides inventing some snappy new phrases for the occasion, there's one particular bit of etiquette that's too frequently being hurled off the ship of gentlemanly and lady-like behavior: The art of bringing a gift to the host and/or hostess.

A gift you can always bring (unless the hosts are teetotalers): It's always a good thing to bring your host(s) a bottle of wine, beer if you know they like beer, or some good gin/vodka/bourbon/tequila. Depending on the circs, this may be something they save for another time (if they're not close friends/family this is common) or that they may want to open and enjoy with you. Don't be offended if it's not opened at the party--it's a gift, and meant to be enjoyed at their leisure; let the hosts decide.

Another gift you can always bring (unless they have allergies): Flowers. Tough to go wrong there, unless the host is a bachelor; if the host is a woman or a married couple, flowers are great. If the lady is single (or married and hosting a party on her own for some reason), take care that the flowers are not taken amiss as a sign of unwanted or inappropriate affection.

A gift not to bring (unless asked): Food. If the host(s) asks you to bring something, go ahead. If not, there's always the risk that you're imposing on their plans, or that you might bring something they don't want to touch with a 9 foot Q-tip.

Something to never, never, never do because it's astoundingly rude and will display your poor taste and cad-like behavior for all to see: Whatever you bring, to whomever you bring it, whether they're close family/friends or mere acquaintances, never take back your gift! Is the wine unopened, the beer un-enjoyed, the flowers sitting sans vase on the kitchen counter? Leave them! But here we come across what can be a vexing situation: Does your host ask you to take the gift back with you since it was unused (I do not say the host should do this, but it could happen possibly if the people are very close friends or family)? If so, the proper thing to do is to decline: "Oh no, that's for you to enjoy whenever you wish." If the host says, "No really," say, "No please, it's a gift." If the host asks a third time or pushes the gift into your hands and hurls you out the front door, take it. But give them at least 2 chances to keep your gift--the host might be making the offer merely to be polite. Still, if at all reasonably possible, do not take your wine/beer/gin/flowers back home with you. Now, it does happen at family feasts that the food is portioned out, and this is legit (ditto for flowers if the host wishes it). But even then, this does not, in my opinion, apply to items such as bottles of anything (opened or not)--a bottle of drink is always understood to be a gift for the host.

I should add that such rude behavior should be interpreted in the best possible light. Many of us grew up learning proper etiquette, others of us learned later in life, and lots of people never learned at all, or simply have a dulled sense of what is proper due to this insane world we live in where good behavior is tossed aside like rubbish, and at best bad behavior is winked at with an indulgent eye by many.

And now, go "party like it's 1999!"

Toodle-pip, Happy Thanksgiving, and an early Merry Christmas!

Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick

2010-11-16T17:57:00.007-05:00

Most of you have probably heard this phrase, as uttered by that intrepid, tough, red-blooded American chap who could actually prove he was born in the USA and who even grew up here: Obama! Ah, no, sorry, got my notes mixed up. Right, here's the bird: Teddy Roosevelt!

Well, if you've ever wished you had a large stick with which to clobber over-bearing dogs or people, have I got good news for you!

But first, let's define the terms. When we say "walking stick" what do we mean? Here are 3 examples of what we are not talking about:

The first two, of course, are excellent choices if one is elderly or infirm. The third is also an excellent choice if one is elderly and infirm and also the size of an ant. Granted, the third option is a remote contingency, but one can never be too careful. Be prepared for every eventuality, that's what I say; it's always the thing you don't expect to happen that often happens.

Here is what we are talking about (the following walking sticks and lots more types can be found at www.irishwalkingsticks.com:

For the country or a walk at the park:

For an evening in the city:

For weather of the damper variety:

For every day elegance (the handle on this one is 14k gold plate; they have handles on some sticks that are solid 14k gold):

Now I know, as many of you no doubt do as well, that the recent prevailing trend has been that walking sticks of almost any sort, except for the first three listed in this post, are reserved for the more eccentric of gentlemen. The only exception has been the country walking stick, where one is liable to encounter over-friendly creatures that want to maim an innocent fellow taking an innocent walk. Of course, one could almost add the long handled umbrella as an acceptably "non-eccentric' walking stick as well, but at least from what I've seen, I'm the only one who thus employs it in our fair city.

So what to do? How is it that such an awesome looking and truly practical accessory such as the walking stick has fallen not only into disuse, but into that terrible pit where splendid, classic gentlemanly wares sometimes end their days, a category known as "the terrible pit where splendid, classic gentlemanly wares sometimes end their days." In this pit are such items as the top hat and, yes, the walking stick. And yet I dare say the walking stick is more able to hold it's own as a daily article than the top hat.

In fact, the walking stick is not only more likely than the top hat to make a resurgence as a commonly used item, it is an item that I think ought to, well, resurge. Why ought it resurge? I think the whole thing is rather like the Fedora situation. Hats, perhaps especially the Fedora, are indeed being seen again with frequency, crawling out of above mentioned pit with steel resolution. The Fedora was perfectly set for such a comeback for a variety of reasons: it has no specific niche, so it's a great every day hat, working with nice casual ensembles as well as pretty darn snappy ensembles; it has real style; Indiana Jones wears one. The walking stick has its own reasons for exiting the pit of sartorial doom: the walking stick, too, conveys real style; one can whack badly behaved animals and people; one can easily push aside brush and tree branches in the woods; it gives some extra support to the legs and back; Indiana Jones wears one.

But the biggest objection to the walking stick is, "I'll look like an old man, or an invalid." Well now, does Bertram Wooster look like an old man or invalid with his walking stick? Does Sherlock Holmes? The fact is, you can tell when someone has a walking aid as opposed to a walking stick, not only because of the style being employed, as is often the case, but by a fellow's gait: A lad jauntily bounding down a city street or country field with stick in hand is a far cry from either the old or young invalid.

And like many things, it's seen as eccentric merely because it's so little employed; and that is, to my mind at least, an absurd reason to avoid something with as much panache, dernier cri and commonsensical handiness as the walking stick.

Finally, we would be remiss if we didn't include the ladies. Here is a smashing example from 1922 of a lady with an exceedingly practical version of the walking stick:

All the better because of its non-political correctness: Yes, it has a flask built into the handle, the better to carry a spot of drink, alcoholic. They still make these wondrous walking sticks complete with flask, and I have no idea if it's legal to actually carry it about on the streets filled with the real tobasco. Then again, that wasn't legal in 1922, either. Anyway, check your local laws before use out of the home. Or fill it with water. I know, not the same, is it.

Well, with hidden flask or without, with a hidden sword or umbrella, the walking stick is a magnificent addition to the well-dressed gentleman's wardrobe, an elegant finishing touch. In closing, here are a few more photographic examples...

Hercule Poirot, True Gentleman

2010-09-13T11:38:00.001-04:00

Hercule Poirot, the man with the "little gray cells," a Belgian chap as brilliant a detective as he is a fastidious dresser and a true gentleman. If you've never watched a Hercule Poirot film with David Souchet as Poirot, you're in for a real treat. And the more episodes one sees, the more one appreciates this character created by Agatha Christie. You may even decide to grow a handlebar mustache after watching it. I know of one fellow who, after watching it every day for a week, simply woke up with such a mustache; it's a powerful show. But I digress. No, wait, I don't! But I'll get to that.

First, the ensemble of Poirot. Voila:

First, note the pocket square. Now I've been sporting, for some years now, a pocket square with a tri-fold at the top. I've rarely seen it folded this way, and one wants to stand out a bit, have a dash of individual character. But look at Poirot's pocket square--perfectly, absolutely straight. It looks awesome. But it doesn't stand on its own, oh no--consider the suit: Poirot's suit is creased to perfection, and fits him like the proverbial glove; the straight pocket square highlights this well-fitting suit. And it doesn't end there. Such a pocket square-fold fits the neatness of the ensemble that is created by wearing a three-piece suit. Imagine the above photo sans vest. It wouldn't appear half so elegant, not at all so complete, without the vest.

Now, let us move to the flower. It's the perfect size and the perfect color, complimenting the suit and the man without being at all obtrusive.

And lastly, the tie. I've always had a great respect for the bow-tie. On some lads it looks smashing. It fits them somehow. For yours truly, I wear a neck tie. But the type of bow-tie that Poirot wears has me reconsidering. Sort of. First, Poirot's bow tie is not the kind you see worn by Orville Redenbacker, the Popcorn guy, nor is it the kind of bow-tie worn in our time with tuxedo. That's not the sort of look I'm wanting to cultivate. On the contrary, Poirot's bow tie is thicker, much thicker around the collar, with a shirt whose collar does not fold over to cover the tie band, and to wrap it up his ties always have subtle yet interesting patterns; and still we must come back to the vest--without a vest, a bow tie looks...well...small, and, I dare say, silly...bordering on ridiculous (unless the suit jacket is buttoned up, but even then, there's too much blank space between shirt and tie). But the Poirot-style! I think it would work on well nigh any gentleman willing to try it, with or without handlebar mustache.

Which brings me to the non-digressing digression. A poll! Handlebar mustaches, yes or no? I've done a bit of research recently and they seem to be making a comeback. Still, a scientific poll the likes of which we can achieve here and no where else will surely tell us if this is a real trend or not.

With that, toodle-pip gentlemen...

Spring Time, Evil Flip-Sides and Pocket Squares

2010-05-13T14:51:00.019-04:00

A merry Spring to you, one and all! First, my apologies for the lack of recent, er, postage. Why, you ask? No, I'm not dead. More like general laziness, waking up at around 2 PM most days, and weeks at a shot spent at the manor houses in the English Countryside, aided by my trusty valet. That's the official version anyway. Nearer to the truth is an incessant and increasingly annoying job search (and if you're looking for a job you know that it's well-nigh impossible to even find jobs for which to apply), constant sickness for two months in the Well-Dressed Gentleman's household, and myriad events on the calendar.

But back to business. It's Spring. I don't know about you, but in the depths of winter I find myself retreating to classy sweaters in place of the jacket and tie. Indeed, I'm sure all we who live in places that turn into freezers 3.5 months out of the year, at some point after the thrill of a Winter Wonderland has worn off, open the front door and shout into the frigid air (or Frigidaire) "Alas, temperate weather of Spring, Summer and Autumn, I hardly knew ye!" No more! The time for dressing to the nines is surely here, with no need to worry about filthy slush mucking up one's ensemble, and no need to don a heavy coat, scarf, hat and gloves over a suit to walk outdoors. You can just walk outside, sans the extra layers, and the immediate result is that you strike people as a Well-Dressed Gentleman right off the bat.

But there is an evil, vile side to this glorious weather. No, not the rain; rain brings out a light and dashing rain coat with a snappy umbrella. I'm talking of a horrid and true laziness/casualness that possesses some men, and leads them to go about in shorts, flip-flops, and even, possibly, a cut-off t-shirt. One wants to say:

"Look pal, do us all a favor--put some clothes on. We don't want to see your dirty feet, your silly legs, or poor style. Neither do women. It just looks bad. So knock it off. And you may as well grow up while you're at it."

I mean, you can make up your own words. But you don't really need words. The simple contrast will make any man of conscience second guess his style choices. If they don't, no words will likely help. Now I'm not talking about the pool or beach, back yard or in one's-own-house situation. It's the rest of the time, and honestly, it's disrespectful to the rest of the human race to dress that way. That's one of the reasons for this website--dressing well shows respect for ourselves and for those around us.

Which brings us, in a bit of a jarring segue, to pocket squares. The results of the poll show that some gents just don't employ them and they don't care who knows it. The smallest number think you need a tie for a pocket square to be present; the greatest number say if there's a pocket, it needs a friend; and the middle group think it just depends on the circs. These are highly scientific studies, and we would be wise to heed or not heed them. For me, I had thought that a tie was necessary for the old pocket square to be sitting in that breast pocket. And no, I didn't taint the poll with my own vote. But now? I don't know. I asked Will Dynend about this (see his site, A Suitable Wardrobe) , because he is a real expert. I don't think he'll mind if I post his reply to me: "You're an idiot." Ah, wrong reply. Sorry about that. Right, here it is: "If you have a breast pocket it should have a handkerchief in it, tie or no tie. Whether men should walk around with open shirt collars is another topic entirely." So in all humility, I can only say that there's a good chance my theory on this is off kilter. Of course, so much of these details are opinion, and kilter one way or the other. But Will has a better sense of this than I do, I'd say.

That's it for now. Cheerio gents, enjoy the weather!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

2010-03-16T14:37:00.001-04:00

Saint Patrick. Drove evil out of Ireland. Irish (well, he went to Ireland and lived there).

A merry St. Patrick's Day to you, gentlemen. Be good. Drink some Guinness. Or Harp. I'll be drinking one of each. St. Patrick, may all we men be true gentlemen.

(Could this here post be any more filled with short, choppy sentences? Probably. So I'll stop here, and raise my glass to ye. Cheers!)

Post Script: Don't forget to play the song at the right top side o' the page.

Nice tie--too bad you only finished half the knot

2010-03-16T14:09:00.006-04:00

From one G H we have received the following twisted inquiry:

“I have a question regarding your thoughts on the knots that one uses with one's ties. When I first learned to tie the tie, I of course learned the half-windsor. Sometime thereafter I became a Full Windsor man, through and through. I would even scoff at the Half Windsor fellows. However, in the past year I have switched over to the Four in Hand. I find the knot much less ostentatious. My only quibble is that it has a tendency to be slightly off-center.

Anyway, what knots do you prefer/recommend? What are your thoughts on the knots that I've mentioned? What knots should one never use? I look forward to your wit and wisdom on this issue.

Good day to you sirs!

G H”

GH, there is much in what you say. In fact, you have perhaps opened a veritable Pandora's box of knots for neck-ties (Pandora's box was actually filled with bow ties, as the Greek mythologies tell us). Amazingly, there are a total of 85 ways to tie a tie—yes, a plethora of knots—as discovered by Thomas Fink and Yong Mao. These lads are physicists at the University of Cambridge, and in 1999 they published a book entitled "The 85 Ways To Tie a Tie. The Science and Aesthetics of Tie Knots." A mere thirteen of these knots are “aesthetic” (make a shape smashing enough to twist your tie into), and they are as follows:

Four-in-hand
Windsor
Half-Windsor
Kelvin
Oriental
Nicky
Victoria
St. Andrew
Plattsburgh
Cavendish
Grantchester
Hanover
Balthus

[See To Tie A Tie for directions on creating the above civilized tangles]

The knot I personally prefer, however, is the good old Four-in-hand. It's versatile, and considered the most attractive by many. Why it looks smashing: The longish shape of the knot lengthens the aspect of the throat area. Why it's versatile: One's tie can be of a thin or thick material, and yet the knot works with either type. You're is also in good company sporting the Four-in-hand, re, the Duke of Windsor. Sure, the Windsor knot is named after him, and the half Windsor is named after half of him, but— according to photographic evidence—it seems his ties were twisted into the Four-in-hand knot. The reasons his tie knots were so thick was not (no pun intended) because of the Windsor knot, but that his ties had a rather thick lining. It's more like he wore the Windsor not (OK, that was a deliberate and maybe even an incorrigible pun).

The Windsor knot does have it's place though, however limited in practice: One really needs a tie of quite thin material, and a shirt with a “cutaway” collar. Now, don't get yourself twisted into a Plattsburgh about this—I speak of ideal situations and circumstances. That is to say, I like the Windsor, even though it isn't my favorite, and even though it has somewhat limited applicability; it looks best, perhaps, in a business or political setting.

Which brings me to one final note on the Windsor: For all its symmetry, and for that reason I think, it lacks character somewhat. Which is why so many politicians prefer it.

The Four-in-hand seems to me to have more character in it's size, in the seeming elongation of the throat area that it creates, its adaptability, and the way you can insert variations into the folds of the tie just under the knot (as with other knots, though the Windsor seems more staid and thus the tie is pretty much flat from the bottom all the way up to the knot). And 4-in-h fits any occasion. And an actual Duke wore it.

What knots would I never wear? The Gordian knot tops the list as knots to never ever wear, under any circumstances. The only person ever to undo it is not only dead I'm pretty sure (Alexander the Great), but the only way he could get the knot undone was to whack it with his sword. No thanks. Second, a badly tied knot of any sort—if it comes out not quite right, I redo it. I imagine most gents do though. After that, I suppose the non-aesthetic knots, and after that—well, I am not averse to any of the 13 known aesthetic knots, of which I am aware at any rate. I admit, I haven't tried them all, and I may find some of them despicable. Then again, I may like them all.

But let's not end on such a serious note. What do you call an emperor who goes about thwacking people with neck ties? An imperial tie fighter.

Cheerio, gentlemen!

Harris Tweed II

2010-03-01T17:19:00.000-05:00

On the old website you may notice a new comment with yesterday's Harris Tweed post. It is from Justin Luddington, and I draw attention to it because he has an opinion on the matter that is worthy of merit:

"I myself am of the school of thought that a breast pocket will weep in solitude without a pocket square -- tie or no. I would also advocate a silk or similarly sheened square with tweed, to contrast the textures and balance the sometimes overpowering heaviness of tweed."

Now, while I maintain my opinion on the matter, it is just that, my opinion. I have been known to be wrong before, and it has been known to happen that someone will have a better idea than I. Yeah, I know, it sounds like crazy talk, but it's true.

But what do you think, venerable gentlemen? Behold! A new poll... is a pocket square dependent on a tie, in most circumstances anyway?

Harris Tweed and WDG Style Theory

2010-02-26T17:46:00.014-05:00

From one Mr. RB we've received a timely (due to the apparently permanent and constantly thicker white color scheme of the USA) and crucial inquiry about that wondrous fabric known as Harris Tweed:

"Dear Sir,

I favor Harris Tweed sport jackets, usually with no tie.
Would a pocket square be appropriate with such a coarse weave and sans tie?
What about with a bow-tie?

Thanks!

RB."

This is a very good question indeed.

I have two Harris Tweed sport jackets myself, sometimes worn with a tie, sometimes not. With a tie, I employ a cotton pocket square or handkerchief--it's thick enough to match the heaviness of tweed, but not so heavy as to look like I stuck a piece of carpet in my pocket. A thick silk (knitted silk, for example) handkerchief would also work.

Forsooth, that's one of the basic tenets of men's fashion--matching the basic elemental components of one's ensemble: the colors, the patterns, the fabrics, and so on.

Onto the tie/no tie part of your question. Without a tie, I would advise not donning the pocket square, and there's an interesting reason for this: "Tie Theory." This is a theory that says some things depend on a tie for their existence; for example, a pocket square, a boutonniere (button hole), and the obvious tie clip or tie chain. There's little use scouring the internet or literature on men's style and fashion for this theory, at least by name, because I just invented it, and as far as I know I am the first one to do so (I may as well lay claim to it now). Thus, when worn alone, these "dependent embellishments" (to coin another term), such as a pocket square or button hole, give the impression that a fellow is either astoundingly forgetful (perhaps due to having neglected the morning tea or coffee, resulting in an acute and shocking lack of mental awareness) or lacking in fashion sense.

Now, if you're wearing a tie with your tweed sports jacket I would say that the pocket square isn't as important as it would be for a non-tweed suit, since tweed is a more relaxed matter; nevertheless, even with the more casual suit or jacket of tweed, a pocket square is one of those details that sets one apart from the crowd.

Two quick final notes. One, why not a bow tie? The world could use more gentlemen wearing bow ties. Two, a tie worn with tweed, bow tie or otherwise, should be a weight that matches the heaviness of the tweed and of the pocket square. Consistency in a gentleman's ensemble is, in my book, essential. Everything should be cohesive, so that people will say, "There's a man who has it all together!"

Business as un-Usual

2010-01-20T21:35:00.001-05:00

If you're like me, you may have noticed that over the past several decades the standard that most businesses operate under is this: Forget quality, forget the customer, and make money. I am not against making money. As some of the readers of this website know, I currently find myself without employment, and God willing I will soon be bringing home more of the happy cabbage, the do-re-me, the green stuff. No, it's the rest of the current business standards that I find fault with. Buy almost anything these days and whatever it is will last anywhere from 1 minute to just over one year (while the warranty expired at month 12, and sorry, but your microwave, dishwasher, light fixture, lawnmower, etc died or broke at month 13; too bad).

Back in the day, meaning in this example the 1950's and 1960's, my grandfather--a very good man--started an oil business that earned he and his family millions of dollars. But in so doing he always put people at the top--he gave them the best quality and service he could because he knew that people have dignity. Once, at least, there was a family that had kids, but could not pay their oil bill. Their home was heated with oil. He let them have the oil free of charge until they could afford to pay him again. Today, with most any energy company, the heat would have been turned off, kids or not.

My Dad is another of those very good men, those very rare men. He operated a business (in this case a psychology practice) by putting people first, often enough helping people who couldn't afford help free of charge.

There are still a few small businesses like this. Maybe even one or two big ones. And I know of some. I would like to mention one in particular in this here post: Broker's Gin.

I saw this gin recently, and resolved to buy some when I was next in need of a bottle of the clear fragrant stuff. Why? A) It's made in England; and B) the bottle has a mini-Bowler hat on the cap. Not to mention the image of a well-dressed gentleman on the label. The whole effect says, with an English accent, "Try Broker's Gin! You won't be sorry."

And sorry I was not. Broker's Gin is the best gin I have ever had.

It is better than Bombay Sapphire, Beefeater, Gordon's, Tanquery, etc. Not only that, it costs only 17 bucks, as opposed to 35 bucks for a bottle of Bombay Sapphire of the same size. I was so impressed that I did something I almost never do--I wrote an email to the company to tell them thanks. No ulterior motive, no complaints, just "thanks." Thanks for making a great, world class product at a price that is not an insult, indeed at a price that makes me think they are taking a bit of a hit selling it at that price; indeed I gather from Andy that they know the price could be higher--but for them that's not the point, the point is that they want to make a great gin at a price that is fair and reasonable and accessible. They take real pride in their gin artistry and treat their customers with: Dignity.

You may have gathered that it gets even more impressive. They didn't send me a form letter--nope, instead one of the founders/owners emailed me back. In the course of our emails, I discovered that not only are they themselves well-dressed gentlemen, they are trying, as am I in my own small way, to bring back the Bowler hat. Through Andy Dawson, I was even put in contact with a hat shop where perhaps I can obtain a good Bowler hat (Frank Sinatra shopped here as well--the shop has no website though, you have to go there: Batsakes Hat Shop; Gus Miller, proprietor; 605 Walnut Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202; Phone 513.721.9345).

Next time you need some gin, try Broker's--you won't be sorry. And no, I'm getting nothing from writing this--no free gin, no money, no profits, only the pleasure of being able to recommend not only a great product, but a great company run by great people.

Andy and Martin Dawson--thanks, lads. Cheers!

A Real Daiquiri, courtesy of Alton Brown

2009-12-15T21:37:00.001-05:00

How to make a real daiquiri, thanks to that great celebrity chef and food expert, Alton Brown. This recipe, and others like it, can be found at the Food Network website. Enjoy this clean, sweet drink. Cheers!

Ingredients
2 cups crushed ice, plus extra for chilling glass
2 ounces light rum
1-ounce freshly squeezed lime juice, strained of pulp
1/2-ounce Simple Syrup, recipe follows
Directions

If your glass is not chilled, do so by placing some crushed ice in it and set it aside while you prepare the cocktail.

Place the 2 cups of crushed ice into a cocktail shaker. Pour the rum, lime juice, and simple syrup over the ice, cover, and shake well. Remove the ice from your serving glass and strain the drink into it. Serve immediately.

Simple Syrup:

2 cups sugar

1 cup water

Place the sugar and water into a small saucepan over high heat. Bring to a boil. Decrease the heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is completely dissolved, approximately 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from the saucepan and allow to cool completely. Syrup can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a month.

Swag

2009-12-15T19:10:00.003-05:00

Almost as good as pirate loot, but without the stealing, murder, threat of drowning, or eating of maggot infested beef. Behold: Swagbucks! A search engine, powered by Google, which doles out "swagbucks" as you search the Internet. Sometimes you get 1, sometimes you get 3, 5 or more. Not on every search mind you, but you can get a few a day. And it's not fake swag, either--once you build up anywhere from 1 to several hundred or thousand you can buy real things. For example, for every 45 or so swagbucks you can buy a $5.00 Amazon card to buy any gentlemanly apparel, books or gadgets you like. I heard of one woman who earned enough to buy a new Apple laptop. We here earned enough swagbucks to get about $100 or so worth of Amazon gift cards, with which we did a good deal of our Christmas shopping.

Swagbucks: Brilliant! Just click SWAGBUCKS and start earning. Happy looting!

(And no, there's no catch, nothing to buy, or try, or any nonsense like that--search, earn swagbucks, earn gift cards to participating stores and the like. That's it.)

Well, actually...

2009-12-15T17:05:00.002-05:00

Lads, it's time. Yeah, you know what for. No, don't say it! Do not say "Actually, I don't," because that's just the trouble. No, the trouble isn't that you don't know what I'm talking about, the trouble is that you "actually" don't know.

Here's the thing: From Isaac Laughlyn we have this observation: "People are always adding the word 'actually' to 98.3 % of their verbiage. Why won't they stop? Stop! WDG, what do you think?"

I actually think you're right. And in examining the foregoing sentence we will see that the word "actually" is what linguistic scholars and school children call redundant. All one has to say is, " I think you're right." Do I actually think that? Yes--otherwise why would I say it at all? As Bertie Wooster would say, "Expunge the word actually from your vocabulary."

This also applies to the word "literally." As in, "I was riding my bike and I literally crashed right into that street mime." Once again: Redundant! Either you did or did not run over a mime with your bike (one would hope you did, but that's beside the point). There is no need to add "literally" unless there is serious reason to suppose that others will think you're speaking figuratively about running into that mime with your bike.

Finally, we cannot forget the phrase, "A whole 'nother." For starters, there is no word "'nother." But even if there were such a word, 'nother would be a contraction of "another," thus producing the phrase "A whole another," which doesn't make a lick of sense. What is meant here is, of course, "A whole other." Sure, it isn't the best phraseology, but at least it actually makses sense, literally.

Gentlemen, we ought to speak as clearly, chivalrously and with as little redundancy and grammatical daftness as possible, for the sake of our listeners and in order to educate the masses, as gentlemen should do by their very example.

Christmas on the Front, 1914

2009-12-10T16:07:00.005-05:00

But it was the right response--gentlemen may be compelled to fight, and they hopefully fight honorably, but a gentleman knows that Christmas is not the time to be fighting. It's, well, Christmas.

With that in mind, please take a listen to one of the best, least played and most under-rated Christmas carols of all time, "Snoopy's Christmas." It's located at the top right of this page.

A Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!