A web log, an æthereal scrap-book if you will, with a somewhat vintage flavour. News items, occurrences, experiences, thoughts and opinions related to Victoriana through to Fifties Americana can all be found here.
A nice little article now, the last of my 2020 drafts and a pleasing showcase of a fellow vintage aficionado from Brooklyn who lives a full 1930s life with her partner.
As the accompanying video also explains, Rose Callahan has not only embraced the Thirties lifestyle and fashions but has also incorporated it into her work as a professional photographer and author. One can clearly see both her enthusiasm for the era and its fashions and the way in which her photography is imbued with the same degree of passion. That she as found in her husband Kelly Bray someone so in tune with her own interests and way of life is really lovely to see and much of what she says regarding the appeal of the interwar years, including the clothing and general style of the period, once again strikes a chord with this blogger (and I suspect, a good many other vintagistas). Their books on the subject of dandies sound most intriguing and I have a feeling I must look them up with a view to adding them to my library! In the meantime I wish Rose and Kelly continued success with their way of life and journalistic endeavours, both of which I think it safe to say are a welcome addition to the international vintage scene.
This is another blog post I've been keeping back for a while with a view to publishing it when I would be incommunicado in hospital but with things on that front still uncertain and the subject in question of particular interest to the likes of us I feel that now is the time to share it with the rest of the vintage blogosphere.
The two articles featured in this post are equally gratifyingly in-depth studies of an area of our lives that we are all very familiar with - the vintage lifestyles that we all wholeheartedly embrace to one degree or another. I use the word "gratifyingly" as so very often pieces such as these incline at best towards the gently mocking and tend to make my blood boil with their inherent misunderstandings - often implying that we're all a bunch of rabid right-wing leaning Conservatives longing after the return of an imperialist yoke, of women "knowing their place" in the home, of a strict social order and a world that was generally far more hidebound than the one we live in today. It is for this reason that I rarely feature such critiques on here and why the one in the Guardian was an especially pleasant surprise to read, as in my experience they have a habit of scorning anything old-fashioned - with the traditional being an anathema to that particular organ, which is more often keen to try and point out - however tenuously - the negative aspects of the past (as in this recent, rather meandering and largely specious piece on men's suits in [spy] films).
Indeed this frequently pervading attitude that I'm sure we've all encountered - that we're wearing rose-tinted spectacles and desperately trying to live warts-and-all in a past that never truly existed - is something that I have blogged about a couple of times previously (once in 2010 and again in 2011); both of which obviously struck a chord with my readers judging by the number and type of comments I received. I don't intend to repeat everything I said in those posts here again as they remain as valid today as they were ten years ago, although in light of these two recent commentaries I do think it worth revisiting some of the overarching views I expressed at the time.
Both editorials (but the Guardian's in particular), whilst being largely positive about the subject, do touch upon the idea that by engaging in nostalgia and living a vintage lifestyle we are somehow embracing every aspect of our preferred era both good and bad. This is a view that for the life of me I have never been able to understand - a myopic, one-dimensional perspective that insults us by suggesting that we are unable to recognise the reprehensible aspects of our favoured time or are more than happy to include them in our lives. Within this is also the view that we should be grateful for all the changes - both social and technological - that have occurred in the modern age and that by supposedly turning our backs on the present we are somehow denigrating the achievements we have made in the last century or so. (Which we're not, as I've said before - many of us, myself included, just want to take the best of our chosen era and marry it to the best the 21st century has to offer.) This belief has always struck me as a something of a double standard - to accuse us of liking all aspects of a previous era while at the same time insisting that it is in some way unnatural of us not to look forward and embrace all that the present has to offer is in many ways just as deprecating to the memory of the past. I made the case in my 2011 post that in many respects we do appear to have thrown the baby out with the bathwater over the last fifty years or so - a view echoed by at least one of the Guardian interviewees and one that I still stand by. To use a further analogy, how is it seen as "weird" for those of us with a penchant for a certain era to dress in the fashions of that time - fashions that can be æsthetically pleasing, sustainable and sympathetic to all body types - yet perfectly acceptable for middle-aged, overweight men (for example) to wear the artificial, ill-fitting football strip of their favourite team? Where is the difference? Why is one seen as "normal" and the other not?
This attitude is also reflected in the somewhat negative terminology used by these commentators to describe us, both in the Guardian article and elsewhere. "Retromania[cs]" is a particularly derogatory phrase in my book, once again tacitly ascribing the characteristics of a mental illness to our choice of lifestyle. "Refuseniks" is another term that seems to be gaining currency, which continues to suggest that we are being actively obdurate and vehemently opposed to certain aspects of modern life. Here again we see the use of injurious language to describe a group whose perfectly harmless way of living is in some way incomprehensible to those keen to pass judgement. What's wrong with a more unbiased term like "vintagista" - or why not just use existing nonpartisan words such as "vintage enthusiast"?
From my own perspective I am reminded of an ethos that is very appropriate in respect of the above; one I have always striven to live by, given to me by a most unlikely of sources but which has always stood me in good stead and should really be the credo of all right-thinking people:
"While men are decent to me I try to be decent to them, regardless of race, colour, politics, creed or anything else. I've travelled a bit, and taking the world by and large, it's my experience that with a few exceptions there's nothing wrong with the people on it, if only they were left alone to live how they wanted to live." Biggles, from "Biggles Delivers The Goods", 1946
However I am pleased to see that - in line with my own encounters with fellow "living historians" - every single one of the interviewees in each column come across as intelligent, educated individuals who are as keen as we all are to put these misconceptions to bed. I was particularly pleased to see more than one respondent explain - as I did back in 2010 - that many of us like to take the best facets from both worlds and how there is nothing wrong with that.
Indeed let's focus more now on the positive bits of these two news items - and they are many - from the pleasure of a dozen vintage enthusiasts happily discussing their lifestyles and fashion choices to the interesting and in some cases insightful socially scientific theories expounded by the scholars. Although we may not entirely agree with all of the latter it is nevertheless thought-provoking to see them laid out in a largely unbiased fashion for a change and as hypotheses more than as accusations.
Then of course there is the pure enjoyment in seeing well-dressed individuals taking pride in their appearance and embracing the eras of their choice, one or more of which we can appreciate ourselves. Unsurprisingly what especially comes across is the feeling of camaraderie and community that the entire vintage movement fosters - the support, encouragement and almost familial sense of togetherness that often results when a group of like-minded people share a common interest and which is thrown into even starker relief in the face of some of the more negative remarks we have to put up with. It's good to see the benefits of modern technology also highlighted, particularly the positive aspects of social media which allow us to engage with other vintagistas maybe half a world away whom we might never actually meet - something that I have blogged about previously and which I'm sure we're all grateful for. The irony in this is of course that it pours further cold water on the idea that we are all technophobes who use nothing more advanced than a Bakelite telephone (well, sometimes we do I suppose!). And we haven't even touched upon the æsthetic and ecological properties of the clothing, accessories and furnishings that can be intrinsic to the vintage lifestyle, as mentioned in both papers.
To finish on that last point, as this is rapidly turning into another essay and I'm alive to the fact that it links to two other long-read stories, I will just add my own view to those espoused by several of the vintagistas on the subject of "mixing things up" and going for your own style over attempting a specific period-accurate look.
I consider myself to have been a vintage aficionado since my early twenties, so we're talking nearly 15 years now (yikes!), but my wardrobe actually contains precious few items that one would consider properly "vintage" (and in relation to clothing that is quite an elastic term, as we know - I mean some people are calling stuff from the 1990s "vintage" for goodness' sake! - but for the purposes of this discussion let's say anything that's over 50 years old, i.e. pre-1970). Taking that as a basis I in fact have only one piece of clothing that I can definitively date to within that period and that is my 1940s Kaufmann wool overcoat (above) gifted to me by an aunt a few years ago. I have a few jackets, such as a Harris Tweed job from Dunn & Co, that were picked up from vintage fairs over the years but of course that is no guarantee of age these days and I suspect they were probably made after my self-imposed 1970 cut-off.
The truth is most of my wardrobe is sourced from modern clothes shops - those found on the high street like Marks & Spencer and Debenhams as well as the various online emporia listed on the top left of this blog. I realise I am fortunate, as a chap, that men's fashion has in essence changed little over the decades (and certainly since my specific era of interest, the interwar years of the 1920s & '30s) so I am able to approximate the period look I crave to my satisfaction without having to resort to purely vintage garments. In other words, just like with so many vintagistas such as those in these articles, I mix and match modern - sometimes "vintage-style" - clothes with the few more valued retro items I own. As an example (and at the risk of frightening the horses), this more recent photo (right) has me sporting what is perhaps my favourite look - a 1930s chappist vibe that is achieved using only one truly "vintage" item. That is the jacket, which is a St Michael (M&S) job - an '80s-does-'30s type, I'd say - that I picked up in a charity shop in Canterbury a couple of years ago. Everything else is modern - the trilby from Village Hats, the bow tie from Tieroom, the shirt from Charles Tyrwhitt, the trousers from BHS (sadly missed) and the shoes (brown Oxfords, unseen) from Clarks. I hope this goes to show that one doesn't need deep pockets, nor have to spend hours trawling the likes of eBay (unless that's your sort of thing, of course, and I own it can be fun and rewarding sometimes), to get a look that will pass muster on the vintage scene. This particular outfit has garnered many a positive comment at various events, if I do say so myself (as well as admiring glances from little old ladies, much to my fiancée's chagrin!) and I hope this positive reaction is encouraging to anyone just starting out on the path to vintage enlightenment; you don't have to go all-out for vintage items straightaway - everything is attainable if you know where to look and how to put various items together. As the Auld Holyrood girls say - there are no rules and nothing wrong with throwing different things together to get a successful look as you work your way towards a fully vintage wardrobe, however long that might take.
The only difficulty in sourcing vintage-style clothing currently is the lamentable state of both high street clothes shops and some online stores - all of which are understandably struggling in these covid times but in the case of some like M&S and Debenhams are not helping themselves by making it unclear what market they're in, trying to go after the youth department in a misguided attempt to appear "relevant" only to alienate their existing [older] customer base and lose sales from both camps. Interestingly there was an article in the Daily Telegraphrecently that suggested M&S should reintroduce the St Michael label (defunct since the late '90s/ early 2000s ) in light of its popularity among the vintage set. It is sadly rare now that I find anything suitable from either of these stores. Unfortunately, as a result of covid hitting sales by encouraging people to work at home in their pyjamas (I mean why, for God's sake?! If only more people would realise the [mental] health benefits of dressing smartly, especially in the middle of a pandemic - something that has also been highlighted in both stories and which has previously been commented on here and elsewhere) we are also seeing the demise or decline of several once-great men's outfitters. Already T.M. Lewin have permanently closed all their physical stores and moved to online only, with Moss Bros. looking to follow suit (no pun intended!), while in America the likes of Brooks Brothers and Jos A. Bank have been teetering on the verge of bankruptcy for the last few months. This kind of thing doesn't bode well for the future of more traditional menswear but I'm still optimistic that there will remain a decent selection of gentlemen's outfitters where one can find the sort of vintage-style clothes that we can employ in achieving the look we desire - it's just that many more of them will be online-only (which brings with it its own set of difficulties - getting the right fit, for example - none of which cannot be overcome however).
That's enough to be going on with for the moment, though, I think. I'm not normally in the habit of doing that many massive posts but something about these articles has again clearly had an effect on me and I hope they have made an impression with you too. If you've made it this far - well done! - and I'd be delighted to read your comments, whether you agree or disagree with what I've written or not, and what you think of both commentaries.
Now that I've returned to blogging on a regular basis I feel ready to resurrect one of my favourite series of recurrent posts - the fashions and foibles of Captain Arthur Hastings, as played by Hugh Fraser in the excellent TV series Agatha Christie's Poirot. Judging by this blog's stats page and the number of comments I've received over the years posts featuring the good Captain are well-liked by you the reader too so, by overwhelmingly popular demand, we return now to the adventures of Captain Hastings!
I covered Hastings's all too-brief appearance in The Big Four when it first aired in 2013 and although I have received requests to do Curtain next I have only just come to terms with what happened in that episode and the fact that it was the series finale(!). More to the point I don't actually have it to hand to screencap at the moment, my Poirot DVD box set being an older edition only going up to series 10 (which is fine by me since Captain Hastings - plus Miss Lemon and Inspector Japp - don't appear after series 8 and the episodes from that point onward veer too much towards the darker end of the spectrum for my taste). I will keep a lookout for Curtain - it is bound to be repeated on ITV3 at some point - with a view to featuring it on here later. In the meantime we return to the early days and the next chronological episode to feature our favourite chap, which, it having been so long since I've done one of these, is the series 1 episode (so still lots more to come, hurrah!) The Dream. Anyway, enough waffling from me - we want Hastings!
In this long shot we can just make out his splendid-looking half-belted sports
jacket and, what is that Miss Lemon's wearing? Could it be...?
Yes, it's that ruddy bow cardigan again that started it all. Never mind that, though,
we're here for Captain Hastings and he doesn't disappoint. One of his best outfits
so far, in fact - a wonderful combination. Shirt, tie, cardigan, jacket - it all works.
There's so much going on actually that one caption isn't enough to do it justice, so I'll add my thoughts to this outfit here. I love the blue, red and cream check of the cardigan (which gets further outings in future episodes, so watch this space!), set off against the splendid colours of the striped tie and finished off by the understated grey sports jacket. Then there's the shirt with its small, understated spearpoint collar and - a nice touch - working single cuffs with cufflinks. In short, the archetypal 1930s look and one every right-thinking chap should - and could - aim for. On the subject of cuffs I've encountered conflicting opinions over the years, the general consensus in my experience being that double (or French) cuffs are more formal and therefore more representative of the period, while single cuffs are more informal (except when worn starched with formal evening wear) and the preserve of country attire. But then I see things like this - Hastings rocking the single cuffs with links - and I begin to see things in a different light. What we're looking at here is a typical Thirties informal look, so single cuffs are perfectly acceptable especially when set off with a pair of cufflinks. The trouble is single cuff shirts with the facility for links (as opposed to just button fastenings) can be hard to come by these days. The only one in my wardrobe is a rather summery Bengal striped number from Peter Christian; other modern makers such as Savile Row Co. also offer the facility for cufflinks with single cuffs, otherwise you're looking at the more "period" suppliers like Darcy Clothing or Revival Vintage. That's enough about shirt cuffs though - back to the action!
A nice close-up of the jacket, collar and tie combo.
We open the scene with Hastings helping Miss Lemon with the morning mail. Our man is amused and intrigued by an offer of 'Home Phit' ("That's funny - 'Phit' spelt with a 'ph'".) leather shoes; sadly we never find out if he avails himself of a pair. Miss Lemon is unamused by the antics of her typewriter - left in the flat by a previous tenant, much to the delight of the thrifty Poirot - which keeps jamming (and am I the only one who constantly mishears her annoyed and terse exclamation of "Bother!" as something rather stronger?!).
Something for the typewriter fans as well - can you identify the recalcitrant model
from this picture (all will be revealed at the end of this post)? (Note we also get to
see Poirot's full address and telephone number courtesy of this shot.)
The next letter is from a Hugo Cornworthy, private secretary to noted industrialist and pie-maker Benedict Farley, requesting that Poirot comes to his offices so that he may consult him. The Farley's Food factory is of course in reality the Hoover Building, which has featured on this blog before (and also in the previous episode as the "Parade" film studio - the production company must have done some back-to-back filming there, I think! As an aside, someone once told me that all the exterior shots of Florin Court (aka Whitehaven Mansions) were done over the course of one long weekend and then simply interspersed throughout every episode, but I cannot vouch for the veracity of that.).
Even in the dark our man's style stands out like a beacon of rightness. Hat,
belted coat with effortlessly turned-up collar and scarf - oh yes, he's back all right.
No-one pulls off the turned-up collar look better than our Captain Hastings.
The muted earth tones of the scarf set off nicely against the coat, hat and gloves.
Hastings (and Poroit, to be fair) is disappointed to be told that the invitation does not extend to him, so it's back to the car to wait for Poirot to come out. Poor old Hastings!
Back at the flat the next morning and Miss Lemon takes Poirot to task over the troublesome typewriter, backed up by the good Captain.
A better look at that wonderful knitted waistcoat and, just for the girls, Miss
Lemon's delightful emerald green dress with contrasting asymmetric collar/cuffs
(fellow blogger Porcelina has previously looked at the other fashions in this episode).
Needless to say it isn't long before there's a corpse to deal with but in the following days Poirot is unable to get a grip on the case, much to his frustration. Hastings helps out by doing the crossword.
Just as Miss Lemon's bow cardigan is a wardrobe staple in early episodes, so too
is Hastings' grey Prince of Wales check suit it seems.
When Poirot starts to lament that his little grey cells are dying due to too much "fast living" Hastings is there to (sceptically) comfort him.
Thanks to a second tisane and Miss Lemon nearly breaking her neck looking out the window to check the time Poirot has an epiphany and he and Hastings dash off to Farley's Foods to unmask the murderer.
I do love how a simple change of tie can completely reinvigorate the ubiquitous
PoW three-piece.
Poirot's theory requires Hastings' assistance in quite an exciting manner - our hero is about to swing into action!
While Poirot gathers everyone together for the classic dénouement, Hastings waits for his moment:
The green tie sets off nicely against the grey of his suit.
"The name's Hastings. Arthur Hastings." Seriously, why hasn't somebody in the
Poirot fanfic community done this?! I may have to do something about it myself...
Single cuffs with links again and a smashing rectangular Thirties wristwatch as our
hero takes aim.
Hastings really does have a lot to do in this episode. Having so ably helped Poirot to prove his theory, the killer is unmasked and makes a bolt for it (WARNING: if you haven't seen this episode - then what's wrong with you?! - here be spoilers) but once again everyone's favourite chap is on the case.
Alas after what must have been a bruising struggle down a marble staircase, the villain escapes our man's clutches and dashes out into the factory grounds. Kudos at this point must go to the character of Herbert, the fiancée of Farley's daughter (Joely Richardson), who turns up on motorcycle and sidecar - suitably dressed in full flying leathers, goggles and scarf - intending to elope but who instead is just in time to chase the murderer down in dramatic fashion. Captain Hastings would be impressed!
With the case solved it's back to business as usual at Poirot's flat. Miss Lemon is still battling with the typer when Poirot arrives bearing a suspiciously typewriter-shaped box.
I do love Poirot's expressions in this episode. One can never get enough of Hastings'
suit, either. I'm beginning to understand the obsession with that bow cardigan now.
I promised you a closer look at the troublesome typewriter. Yes, it's an Underwood,
and given its back story, the period setting and four-bar keyboard I'm going with it
being a Number 5. Would you agree?
You'll have to watch the episode to see if Miss Lemon does finally get a new typewriter out of Poirot(!). This has turned into quite a monster post - whew! Well done if you've made it this far but, well, you did ask for it (and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy composing them). For now we'll finish with a few more gratuitous shots of Captain Hastings and his superlative three-piece suit as we bid farewell to him, Poirot and Miss Lemon until the next time, when we'll return to find them in - Peril at End House.
Well hello, everyone! Sorry I've been a bit quiet this weekend; as I said I had a couple of posts lined up but I felt quite run down last week so I ended up spending the whole May Day weekend at my parents', recharging my batteries. A very relaxing three days were spent lounging in the garden, doing the charity shops in Leigh and popping into the local bi-monthly vintage fair (not much resulting for me, sadly, although the latter had a couple of good stalls with some nice jackets and waistcoats at decent - for these days - prices so I've noted the seller's details with an eye to checking out her own shop in the future).
It was in The Children's Society shop that I found my only score of the weekend, a Marks & Spencer St Michael brand silk tie in what I felt was a pleasing '90s-does-'50s pattern. It didn't ring any other bells so I paid the 99p and thought no more about it. When I got back to the folks' place I put it next to the two or three ties I'd bought with me from home and it was only then that I noticed something remarkable about this new one compared to one of the others. See if you can spot what it is... (cue eerie music)
New tie, right, versus old tie, left
I couldn't believe it - no wonder I liked it so much, I already had one very much like it! But not exactly the same, you'll notice. The first tie I'd bought from a charity shop at least ten, if not fifteen, years ago and was originally from well-known men's outfitters Burton. Now to the best of my knowledge M&S has never owned Burton, although I'm sure they've had Burton concession shops within their larger stores - either way I can only assume that through a strange quirk of fate they've ended up using the same pattern. Perhaps it was a popular design? Strange for me to have come into possession of them both over the space of 10+ years, though!
Now, moving on to the second part of this post - "ooh, how is he going to be well-heeled?", I hear you wonder. Well, this was not a chance for me to be well-heeled but it is a chance for you, ladies!
I'm not often given to advertising on this blog, especially vintage-style ladieswear because obviously I don't have such things. But mother does! Shoes, to be precise, in a spiffingly attractive brogue heel design. Alas, despite being in her size (UK 5½, EU 39) they no longer fit her comfortably so she is reluctantly getting rid of them. "Oh, the girls who read your blog would like these, will you mention them on there?", I was asked, and I was happy to oblige! Egads, I'd have had 'em if I was a 5½ and looked good in heels!
Mater's just put them on Ebay today, so they're fresh from the wardrobe. The main details (on the listing but I'll repeat them here): produced in Italy for Jones the Bootmaker, so really well-made (the soles still look to have a lot of life left in them, and the overall quality's top notch); 3-tone brogue design (two shades of tan/light brown - mum's put the dark colour as black, I wouldn't swear to it not being dark chocolate brown but it's hard to judge); 2½-inch heel.
Mother's described them as "vintage style" and we can both see them really suiting a 1930s, '40s or '50s bookish look - perhaps with a tweed suit/skirt, maybe? So if you're a size 5½ why not high yourself over to the E of Bay for a look? They deserve to go to a good home!
Right, enough hawking. I hope to return ere long with stories featuring Spitfires, Mosquitoes and steam trains. In the meantime I hope you all had a splendid May Day holiday and I look forward to catching up with all your posts!
Golly gosh, I'd forgotten just how time-consuming a full working week can be! Still, here we are again, what? The first week of a new job is under my belt and now I've got some time to sit down and write a few lines of this and that - all that has been leading up to this week just gone.
The week previous - that is, two weeks ago now - I spent some time nosing around my local branches of Debenhams, Marks & Spencer and BHS hoping to score some bargain items for m'wardrobe in the summer sales. I was not disappointed, either, as Debenhams' sale was in full swing (they don't seem to call it the Blue Cross Sale any more, unless they're saving that for Christmas/January?) and I picked up two smashing pairs of cotton trousers that will go well with the majority of my jackets for a casual summer look. Most importantly, Debenhams' men's trousers go up to a 34" inside leg - perfect for the long of limb such as myself!
Maine New England Navy twill chinos, £12 from £20 at Debenhams (**sold out**)
The navy blue is a nice, muted colour - giving off an almost workmanlike vibe - but the terracotta twill is my absolute favourite, adding a welcome and different dash of colour to my outfits.
Maine New England Terracotta twill chinos, £10 from £20 at Debenhams
Marks and BHS had less on offer (and M&S wonders why its year-on-year clothing sales keep taking a battering - definitely a "could do better" on the men's clothing selection, at least) but I was still able to score this beautiful "Autograph" knitted silk tie for a frankly unbelievable £4 (it was actually still marked up at £7.50 on the ticket - I do like pleasant surprises!).
It actually goes quite well with the terracotta trews, don't you think? It's wonderful to the touch, of course, and knots well too - something that's not always a given with knitted ties, I've found.
Saturday last found me in Rayleigh for the town's first ever Antique & Vintage Street Market, run by the same people who put on the local Runnymede Vintage, Antique and Retro Fairs that I have been to many times in the past and enjoyed, as has been mentioned on this very blog. Alas I can't see this street market becoming a regular one as it was really very poorly done with barely half a dozen stalls in the high street (which had not been closed as I was expecting), largely selling stuff that would have better been described as bric-a-brac. There were supposedly more stalls around the corner outside the local auction house (Stacey's, occasional star of Antiques Road Trip and Bargain Hunt) but we - mother, sister and I - we so disappointed we didn't bother with that but instead hit the charity shops. There I was able to pick up a nice T.M. Lewin shirt for £3.50 and an interesting CD for £1.
Twenty-four songs from The Radio Rhythm Club, a name I'd never come across before but actually that of a B.B.C. programme broadcast during the Second World War. The Radio Rhythm Sextet was led by a young Welsh clarinetist called Harry Parry(!) who greatly admired American bandleader Benny Goodman, to the point where he emulated him with his own group of top British instrumentalists of the time. Sadly Harry Parry died in 1956 at the age of 44; The Radio Rhythm Club and Sextet seem to have been lost to the mists of time, since I can't seem to find out much about them. The Benny Goodman influence is obvious (but just with a soupçon of British smoothness) and it maybe this overt similarity, plus changing musical tastes after the war, that ensured The Radio Rhythm's obscurity.
Still, after all that, I'm glad I bought the CD as it certainly does bubble along. I do like the Benny Goodman sound anyway and was only recently thinking about finding some more 1940s music, so this ticks the boxes. Have a Boogi to this:
What else has happened? Oh yes, I marked the 100th anniversary of the start of the Great War on the 4th August with a single candle and the "lights out" motif, as did most of the country I think. The B.B.C.'s coverage was rather good, I thought - slightly reserved rather than overdone and all the better for it.
This was the same candle that I burned (we were all given one) at my granddad's funeral back in 1997. I'd never lit it since but it somehow seemed right to use it on the anniversary of WW1
Well, that's all for now, I think. There's going to be a bit of disorder around here for a little while longer as I continue to settle back into a 5-day working week and get comfortable in the new job but as long as I can post at least once every weekend I'll be happy - and hopefully you, my readers, will be too! I've already got posts planned featuring the two surviving Lancaster bombers flying together for the first time in 50 years, plus a 61-year-old woman driving a 110-year-old car across Australia! In the meantime I do still enjoy reading your blogs when I get the chance - usually now a special treat after work! - and I hope you'll continue to stick with mine during this transition.
While I (and, I suspect, many others) have been enduring the heat of a glorious British summer as this country continues to swelter in temperatures consistently in the high twenties (centigrade) - and sometimes uncomfortably into the 30s - I find my mind turning to more casual, lightweight vintage fashions for the chap.
My go-to wardrobe staple in warmer weather is my trusty and well-worn brown linen suit, purchased from Primark (as a two-piece; alas neither of my local branches had the waistcoat in stock!) and which has served me well for what must be coming up to eight years now. Paired with a linen or cotton shirt, a cravat, brown leather shoes and Panama hat, such an ensemble has helped to keep me cool through various summers while giving me a semblance of vintage style in what have been some lean times.
The light-coloured, lightweight suit has long been the standard outfit for gentlemen during the hotter months and such a look is still my ultimate goal - although with my lemonade budget it may yet be some time before I reach it! Fortunately, as has been noted before, menswear has by and large changed little over 100 years so it is still possible to approximate a certain decade's look using some high street items. For example, I have several pairs of cream cotton trousers (chinos, as they are known today) acquired over the years that I like to mix with the linen jacket, or a navy blue single-breasted blazer - the latter of which is one of my favourite current outfits. Again in the longer term I would dearly love a proper brass-buttoned double-breasted number as sported by Bertie Wooster and Captain Hastings.
Further inspiration for ideal summer wear is drawn from my Pinterest board Gentlemanly Attire, where light suits and Twenties & Thirties styles are dotted throughout.
A spiffing illustration of a couple of Jazz Age summer suits, double- and single-breasted with peak lapels, finished off with some topping hats and - of course! - co-respondent shoes. Here's an actual example from 1931, too:
As I've mentioned before the only problem with white, cream or off-white suits - at least in my experience in Britain - is the danger of being likened to Michael Jackson, Martin Bell or The Man From Del Monte by those who haven't been exposed to their wider use and for whom standard summer attire consists of shorts and flip-flops. Still, that hasn't put me off and nor should it you.
The peak of today's white-suited sartorialism comes courtesy of high-end names like Brioni and Polo by Ralph Lauren - clothing that I fear will forever remain aspirational to the likes of me(!):
Lightweight clothing is, after all, more about the weight of the fabric than the colour and even a suit in a lighter wool fabric - say, 8oz or so - can have cooling properties.
Boating blazers are another summer option that can come in a bewildering array of colours. Some tend to be more gaudy than others so it can be a matter of personal taste what colours you prefer, if any.
Jasper Conran navy college stripe blazer
£49.50 @ Debenhams
Jasper Conran navy narrow stripe blazer
£29.70 @ Debenhams (currently sold out)
One of the best places I have found for decent boating blazers in recent
years is Debenhams, whose Jasper Conran concession usually has a couple
of styles each year. Their current stock includes two rather
fetching blues and I can attest to their quality, having tried couple on
in my local branch last weekend. Alas sizes are limited and my humble
purse cannot quite stretch even to sale prices, so I've yet to own one
of these beauties.
Finally I want to touch upon the more casual vintage summer look - an area that I freely admit to having little knowledge of. In the back of my mind I feel sure I have seen pictures at some time of men in the 1930s (including Noël Coward, Fred Astaire et al.) wearing open-necked short-sleeved shirts while at the beach or on holiday. Yet my most recent researches can throw up precious little imagery or information beyond the usual sporting [tennis] wear, such as that in my 1940s Fashion Sourcebook. Certainly this is an aspect of vintage menswear that deserves further investigation, as it would be nice to get a more casual Thirties look before I wilt in the next heatwave.
On the subject of tennis shirts, my parting offering comes courtesy of Miss Rayne's Vintage Chic blog, which I have followed for some time and which Google happened to throw up as a result during my searching. This knitted tennis shirt from the 1930s looks a pip, doesn't it? I've tried getting mater to have a bash at it but she remains firmly unconvinced, not least because we can't work out from the pattern whether the needle size is correct, which needles to cast on with and what wool to use - any suggestions?
There, then, are my thoughts and desires on what the vintage-loving chap can wear to survive global warming. As it's forecast to remain warm for at least another month (and in the long term get warmer still if climate change scientists are to be believed) I hope to be able to employ some of these smashing styles. I'd love to know what you think, and what you're doing to keep cool! Anyone for Pimms?!
