DRESSING UP

Clothes play a vibrant role in our lives. We spend large amounts on smart trousers, fancy shirts, natty socks and quality shoes and the ladies go overboard on hats, cardigans, jumpers, svelte dresses, enticing nightwear, overpriced court shoes, espadrilles and knee-length boots. All that is routine. What we love above all is “dressing up” for that special occasion, when we can really cut loose and create a sartorial sensation.

Historically there were “sumptuary laws” trying to restrict luxurious imported fabrics and fine materials to the ruling elite. The proles were condemned to home-spun cloth, flat hats and even unglamorous, inferior cuts of meat. Happily, these laws were widely ignored or only fitfully enforced, apart from a Roman imperial monopoly on purple-dyed garments and a long-standing European veto on gold braid for the plebs. Fortunately, nowadays even the least enterprising young whipper-snapper can sport more Carnaby Street gold braid than an 18^th century Spanish field-marshal.

Let us kick off with the stereo-typical English gent. By day he may don a pin-stripe suit, a bowler had and a rolled umbrella, once a City of London uniform until about the 1960s, but still the apparel of Guards officers in mufti.

William and Harry in Guards mufti

Sir Austen Chamberlain in the 1920s

 

Making more of an effort to look like a gent is Sir Austen Chamberlain, son of Joe and half-brother of Neville, who was a rather undynamic foreign secretary, but dig that monocle and winged collar! Sadly, it was said of Austen; He always played the game, and always lost. He was no aristocrat, the family fortune deriving from screw-making in Birmingham, a city his family served proud.

In the UK two great arbiters of fashion were Beau Nash, master of ceremonies in fashionable 18^th century Bath and Beau Brummell, the epitome of elegance for some time in the circle around the Prince Regent (later George IV) in the early 19^thcentury in Brighton and London. Nash was a rather ugly fellow but Brummell tactfully laid down what was polite and beautiful, tactfully, because the Prince Regent, was himself grossly obese and ill-tempered.

Beau Brummell

Beau Nash

As a Scotsman I find full Highland costume majestic and my pulses race when I see the wonderful portrait of a clan chieftain by Raeburn in the Scottish National Gallery in Edinburgh. Now that is what I call “dressing up”.

Macdonell of Glengarry by Henry Raeburn

In our modern times, we can still remember White Tie and Tails, now only worn on highly formal occasions, but once de rigueur to the theatre or concert-hall. The American Fred Astaire and the British star Jack Buchanan were wonderfully elegant wearers of this uniform. I also cannot resist the sight of Diana’s gorgeous ‘revenge’ dress while splitting up from Charles.

     

Buchanan and Astaire charm

Princess Diana sparkles in black

The high-spot of the summer season is Ascot, the ladies dressed to kill, the gentlemen in classic Ascot grey morning coats with black top hats. I attach a photo of the Royals at Ascot, but below is the YouTube link to the wonderful Ascot Gavotte sequence from the film of My Fair Lady which is stunning.

The Royal party at Ascot

My Fair Lady https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNgsAcSJdAg

Ah well, you peacocks and dandies can primp before the mirror and imagine how you would look in these starchy get-ups. For myself, my days of ecstatic clothes and shimmying through crowded glitterati are over. Maybe I should revert to the mod fashions of the 1960s;

The Who's clothes will please many

Or maybe I throw on a favourite shirt, a venerable pair of corduroy trousers and some comfy slippers and chuckle through that P G Wodehouse tale of Bertie Wooster until the eyelids droop and it’s time for bed.

SMD

23.7.20

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2020

IT TAKES ALL KINDS

We are encouraged to look on all people as our brothers or sisters (sorry, I forget the trans minority), quite a tall order for someone as encrusted in bias as I am. Much of my bias is unconscious and somehow innate, but I cannot deny its existence. I get on best with my own kind – anyone else is more of an effort. This may not be ideal but it is realistic.

The three great trendy sins of the present time are racism, sexism and ageism – totally overshadowing the revered usual suspects, nationalism, fascism and communism. Dragged before a ‘liberal’ kangaroo court, I would certainly be found guilty of all three sins, if the charges were put baldly, but I would maintain there are useful and mitigating

Charge No 1 – I am a racist, probably expressed by the accusing Twitterati as “a filthy bigoted old racist” for good measure. My response to this heinous charge is to resort to definitions. You cannot mean I dislike all the races in the world - nobody’s mind could encompass such a multitude. I will only answer the charge of being hostile to those UK citizens who are not racially identical to my particular UK group. True, as a White Scotsman, I find modest fault with the foibles of White English, Welsh and Northern Irish, but such petty criticisms fall far short of racism. All these people would be welcome to converse, break bread, take tea or walk down the prom with me, or even marry my daughter, if I had one.

Stop waffling, I hear them say. You know what we mean: why are you hostile to black, brown or Far Eastern Britons? My answer is an indignant rebuttal – I am nothing of the kind. True, I know very few black, brown or Far Eastern Britons but those I do know are perfectly civilised and acceptable. (What do you mean “acceptable”? Who are you to pass judgment, you racist oaf?) Frankly I prefer well educated Britons with basic good manners, kind hearts and a love of their country. (OMG! You are an elitist, nationalist racist – you must be “cancelled” forthwith!!!) I admit to some human bias, but not much more.

An unbiased Scottish look at the World

I quickly skip over the charges of being sexist and ageist. I sympathise with the basic tenets of Women’s Lib, but I wish its advocates were less strident. I never had a woman boss in my business career, and probably would not have enjoyed having one. The talent of many women is extraordinary (viz. Margaret Thatcher) and of course our gracious and noble Queen is an iconic figure. I have had the good fortune to be married to a lovely, remarkable and dynamic Greek lady for 51 years which has proved to me the truth of the observation that our thought processes being only tangentially related, though their interaction is always warmly cherished! The sexes are a breed apart. OK, yes, I am a sexist, but a loving one.

Vive la Difference!

As for ageism, it seems to me self-evident that old people are on the whole wiser than the young. Experience matters and it is usually a dependable guide. Our great leaders were relatively old; Churchill was first Prime Minister at 66, Adenauer was Chancellor at 73 and de Gaulle President at 69, Reagan at 70. Mind you, the exception that proves the rule is probably infantile Donald Trump, currently an erratic 74. In my book anyone over 60 is the cat’s whiskers (ageist idiot!) So, I plead guilty of ageism, but who cares in any event 

For this debate between Freedom and Ideology was fought and won by Freedom 3 centuries ago. The rationalism of Locke, Berkeley and Hume in the English-speaking world, supplemented by the philosophies of Voltaire, Kant, Hegel and J S Mill transformed our way of thinking, blossoming into the vibrant schools of Nietzsche, Bergson, Russell and a hundred others. The intolerance of BLM and its Marxist forebears stands out like a sore thumb and has nothing positive to teach us. We act in freedom, we write in freedom and we speak in freedom. We moderate our language so as not to offend the easily-offended, but the libertarian principle must hold ultimate sway. In Britain, freedom of speech within the law, was enacted and embodied in legal precedent; in the USA, it is enshrined in the First Amendment of the Constitution.

Yet the ideologues who outlaw selected actions and suppress forbidden thoughts are among us in the West in force. The Leftist message has been disseminated like a slow poison to the teaching, acting, media and academic professions and thence to younger generations throughout our nations. This is where BLM, the LibDems and Labour get their traction.

BLM's illegal black power salute Statue in Bristol

               

Yet the forces of Freedom and tolerance are fighting back. The illiberal culture of once-respected newspapers like The New York Times has been denounced by one of its leading journalists in her recent resignation letter, Bari Weiss. An obscure exchange of letters on trans-sexualism escalated when J K Rowling was denounced by a baying mob of the woke only to trigger a furious riposte defending free speech from 150 writers including no less than Salman Rushdie, Noam Chomsky, Gloria Steinem and Margaret Attwood, supported by the likes of Steven Pinker, Thomas Chatterton Williams and Malcolm Gladwell.  In this area, the battle-ground is often the liberal Liberals versus the illiberal Liberals.

Our freedom to say what we like inside our own society is a vital asset – we must make common cause with sensible parties to defend it.

SMD

20.07.20

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2020

PAST AND PRESENT

The Past – I acknowledge that I live in it, as do maybe most soon-to-be 78-year-olds. It stimulates me with memories of long-gone parents, their expressions, their advice and their particular ways still giving me grateful delight. My two fine brothers are happily going strong - what profound memories they generate too - and my old friends continue to amuse, surprise, support and charm me. Above all, my lovely wife and three great sons have been the foundation of my happiness on life’s rocky road. Yes, the Past is often a good place to be. Kind Nature ensures that my memories are almost all of the most agreeable kind!

I had the good fortune to have a privileged education and my passion was the study of history. Yet I am dismayed, when I waste my time watching daytime TV quiz shows, that while most contestants’ have an encyclopedic knowledge of pop groups or soap stars, their knowledge of history is precisely nil. They are ignorant of famous dates like the war years – 1914-18 and 1939-45 – and Churchill’s name elicits an embarrassed shuffling and vacant looks. They cannot even name the King before our illustrious present Queen. Then I remembered that until decimalisation in 1971, we carried our history about in our trouser pockets. Every old penny from Victoria, through Edward VII, George V, George VI to Elizabeth II, with a head image and a minting date also helpfully provided. So, we oldies had, I suppose, an unfair advantage.

George V

Edward VII

George VI

        
   

    

                               

More seriously, an appreciation of history gives us so much more insight into who we are, where we are and what we are seeing with our own eyes. I have had enormous pleasure visiting and revisiting the 40 or so City of London churches (St Mary Woolnoth my favourite) and driving around the country to see many of England’s incomparable parish Churches (Burford my ideal) or relishing the stunning sight of England’s ancient cathedrals (especially majestically Romanesque Durham). If you are clutching an informative guide-book, so much the better.

It is not just our historical eyes that lift us, it is also our tongues. What a wonderful language we have, developing from the golden age of Thomas Cranmer’s Book of Common Prayer (1552) to The Authorised Version of the Bible (1611) to the release of Shakespeare to the world in the First Folio (1623)! The English and American language in inspiring poetry, in sonorous history and in muscular, imaginative prose, just gives and gives over the centuries.

Lovely St John the Baptist, Burford, Oxfordshire

          

                                                     Majestic Durham Cathedral

These buildings and this literature are our birthright and reinforce our sense of identity. Moving on to the Present, we face many challenges. Plague and pestilence have unexpectedly beset us and we are emerging very gingerly from Lockdown after a heavy global death-toll. Our world still tears itself apart, with brutal civil war in Syria, and China’s appalling persecution of her Uighur minority. The purges and Gulag in Russia, Germany’s infamous Final Solution, the genocide of Tutsi by Hutu in Rwanda are remoter memories, but never to be forgotten.

How can we navigate through this maelstrom of horror? The Ancient world tried to help with its Greek axiom carved over the entrance to the sanctuary at oracular Delphi: Gnothi Seauton (Know Thyself) – use your talents and understand your feelings. Shakespeare gives us another angle, from Polonius’ advice to Laertes in Hamlet:

This above all: to thine own self be true

And it must follow as the night the day

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

All this may seem a bit literary and highfalutin so on a more relaxed level let me suggest that the calmest way to face the Present world is the simple philosophy of Frank Sinatra in the song That’s Life:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=avU2aarQUiU

SMD

6.07.2020

Text Copyright Sidney Donald 2020

.