Bright Young Things

Marred by two World Wars, the first half of the 20th Century is often defined in British History by its relationship to conflict and trauma. Yet, sandwiched between two cataclysmic moments of rupture, the 1920s was a brief moment of reprieve: this is the era of the Bright Young Things - the advent of the modern day Cult of Celebrity.

World War One: ‘the war to end all wars’. As the final wisps of smoke rose from bayonets and the birds returned singing to The Somme, a new Golden Era of British History was dawning. For the many returning home with psychological and physical scars of battle,

by N Hamilton Second in English

this sense of optimism about the future was hard to achieve, but for the children of the Aristocracy, too young to have fought and too rich to be hampered by the economic aftermath, this was a time to revel in what the French call:

Joie de Vivre. Perhaps spurred on by a new found, postwar independence, young, ‘well-bred’ women in London started to organise so-called ‘Treasure Hunts’ around the capital. They would use public transport to traverse the city in search of humorous, often lewd items of ‘treasure’, running, shouting and generally making themselves known to the general public. Pretty soon men started to join in, and with the men, came the cars roaring through leafy

London suburbs and English countryside as the group of hunters became ever larger, and the scope of the hunt grew ever wider. Eventually, the treasure hunts became weekend parties at stately homes, those seats of inheritance and bloodlines, and the eccentricities of the hunt evolved into a penchant for fancy dress. Even the solemn chambers of Oxford and Cambridge were not immune to the spread of heady recklessness as ‘bring your own bottle’ parties emerged. The party set began to evolve a life of its own, categorised by music tastes (Jazz exclusively), political belief systems (primarily antidisestablishmentarianism) and even its own vernacular (‘darling’, ‘divine’ and ‘bogus’). The consumption of alcohol was excessive and drugs, such as cocaine and heroin, were frequently consumed as part and parcel of the revelry. Indeed, the law was flouted in many ways, not just in the consumption of illegal substances; homosexual relationships, punishable by law at the time, were universally accepted by the group, which had now earned its own nickname in the press: the ‘Bright Young Things.’ Fascination with this group of bon-vivants grew as their antics became wilder and their clothing more revolutionary. Two such darlings of the press were Stephan Tennant and Lady Diana Cooper. Tennant, the youngest son of the Earl

of Glenconnor, is rumoured to have spent most of his days in bed, only rousing himself for the evening’s revelry. He was pursued relentlessly by the press largely because of his flamboyant style. Tennant favoured androgynous fashion, at times sporting an immaculately tailored suit and tie, but at other times a jewel encrusted evening gown, his hair always, every day, coiffed into silky waves reminiscent of New York flapper girls. Lady Diana, the Viscountess of Norwich, was largely acknowledged in the press as ‘the most beautiful young woman in England’. She achieved such notoriety and fame that she became a darling of stage and screen, garnering a career from media attention to the extent that she was able

to play herself in her role as celebrity in The Great Love. Despite her family’s hopes that she would marry the Prince of Wales, Lady Diana favoured political men and married Alfred Cooper, Member of Parliament and close personal friend of Winston Churchill. Little is remembered today about Tennant and Lady Diana, but there is one member of the Bright Young Things whose influence was such that it reaches down through decades:

Cecil Beaton. The son of a timber merchant, Beaton was somewhat socially inferior to his Aristocratic counterparts, part of the new money world rather than the old. Perhaps because of this sense of inferiority, Beaton initially took a back seat amongst his peers, choosing instead to photograph the sparkling personalities that floated

through parties bedecked in diamonds and innovative designs. Clothing fascinated Beaton and he began to move from photography to design, initially working on book jackets, but moving quickly to costume design for high society charity galas. Beaton would then photograph his own pieces, worn by the glitterati that he had now succeeded in solidifying his place among. Vogue took Beaton on as a regular photographer in 1927 and with this income he was able to rent his own studio. The doors of said studio saw the London social elite pass through them on a daily basis, as a portrait by Beaton became the latest highly sought after marker of social influence. Indeed, Stephan Tennant, by now one of Beaton’s best friends, was a regular at the studio. Yet, Beaton remained distinct from his peers in many ways. Perhaps, the main difference between Beaton and the other members of the Bright Young Things, the reason he was able to forge a legacy and endure when they were not, was his

Adaptability.

Recklessness and luxuriance was quickly subsumed into rationing and pragmatism with the onset of World War II. Fashion design and photography became superfluous overnight and one might assume that Beaton was out of a job. Yet, undeterred by the imminent threat of bombing in the capital, Beaton remained in London and continued to photograph, transforming himself from fashion offocianado to war photographer and carefully documenting the face of London in the Blitz with haunting beauty.

It was not just in war-time however, where Beaton displayed an innate ability to adapt and survive; he changed again with the emergence of Hollywood and Broadway. Some of Beaton’s most recognisable work hails from this era where he began to capture the Hollywood elite (Monroe, Hepburn and Kelly) as opposed to the British Aristocracy. His design work also took to new heights too as it was in this post-war era that Beaton created arguably his most iconic costume: Hepburn’s ‘transformation’ dress from the film ‘My Fair Lady.’ The white lace, mermaid-style, long-sleeved dress, embellished with ruffled cuffs and black and white ribbon accents, accompanied by matching wide brimmed hat and parasol is still instantly recognisable today and earned Beaton the first of three Oscars. Undoubtedly, Beaton displayed impressive social intelligence throughout his career, understanding innately what the public craved, whether that be Hollywood glamour, or the documentation of national pain in war-time. It is this social intelligence that earned him his most prestigious post:

Royal Photographer. Beaton’s work as a Royal photographer falls into two very distinctive categories: the posed and the personal. In 1953, Beaton

photographs the Queen in full regalia, scepter in hand and ermine about her shoulders as she is perched stiffly on the throne. Yet only a few years earlier, he captures her as something very different - a mother. Beaton captures the Queen smiling in a silk blouse with a simple string of pearls and the chubby, small hands of Prince Charles clinging to her shoulders as she offers him a piggy-back. Beaton was able to recognise something which even the monarchy itself was not yet capable of understanding, the fact that the general public were becoming slowly more disenfranchised with the stiff, ostentatious image of royalty and that a more personal portrait of the royals as a real family was needed if the monarchy was to survive changing attitudes of the public. In a way, he is responsible for the image of the monarchy that we see today, with portraits photographed by the Duchess of Cambridge herself of family life in her own back garden. In his understanding of the importance of image, Beaton was a man truly ahead of his time. Yet whilst Beaton can be typified as this shining star of design and social documentation, he is not without criticism. Indeed when looking at his life, there are

Shadows amongst the dazzling lights. Initially, adversity in Beaton’s life came in the form of bullying at school, and Beaton’s chief tormentor took the shape of Evelyn Waugh. Waugh, who grew to be a celebrated writer (one of his most famous works, ‘Vile Bodies’, even

taking the form of a satirical attack on the Bright Young Things), was physically abrasive. Waugh claimed to hate ‘pansies’, or what he deemed to be effeminate boys, and admitted in later life that he took sadistic pleasure in seeing the tears fall through the long, blonde lashes of the angelic-faced, nine-year-old Beaton. Waugh was fighting his own battles, his relationship with his own sexuality for example (in later life Waugh had known relationships with two men despite marrying a woman), but this bullying took its toll on the young Beaton. In 1955, Beaton agreed to photograph the now celebrated Evelyn Waugh and the resulting portrait helps the viewer to understand the terror that he may have felt as a young-child. Shot from low down, and forcing us to peer up into the intimidating silhouette of Waugh as he looms over us. Waugh’s expression is stern

as he gazes off into the middle distance and his hand clasps into a tight fist around a cigar. The shadows of the tree that Waugh stands beneath fall on his face, casting him into a darkness that is oppressive and domineering as opposed to soft and leafy. But it is not only in Beaton’s relationship with Waugh that one finds these dark shadows, they are just as present in his own behaviours and beliefs.

Despite his obvious talent, he also embodied some of the ‘worst aspects of the fashion industry’, known to be gossipy, back-biting and incredibly elitist. Indeed, John Galliano famously dubbed Beaton ‘Malice in Wonderland’ after reportedly finding him almost unbearable to work with. Yet Beaton was not just a difficult ‘artiste’, he was, at times, deeply prejudiced; Beaton was famously fired from Vogue after an anti-semtic slur was found scrawled on the edge of one of his drawings. It was a ‘mistake’ that Beaton lamented in the press

throughout his life, and he claimed to have sought to atone for his prejudices by joining the British Ministry of Information and travelling to frontlines during World War II in his role as War Photographer. Still, these incidences cannot be ignored when evaluating his life critically.

Beaton was a complex man; deeply flawed, deeply talented and deeply socially intelligent. But no matter what you think of him, I believe his is a life spanning the greatest period of change in history, and therefore a life worthy of consideration.