The Chap Issue 121

ISSUE 121 WINTER 2024

EXPAND YOUR MIND, REFINE YOUR WARDROBE

CHARLES HAWTREY

FORTEAN TIMES

ROSSANO BRAZZI

LESLIE CHARTERIS

ELVIS PRESLEY

ISSUE 121

£7.99

ZACK PINSENT “I HAVE ABSOLUTELY LOVED, FROM AN EARLY AGE, DRACULA AND VAMPIRES. OBVIOUSLY DEMONIC POWERS, BUT ALSO... CLOTHES! THEY GET TO BE SO DRAMATIC, AND SO SUAVE”

OUR YOUR CAVANI.CO.UK

King Charles III's Coronation. The new Despatch Boxes of His Majesty’s Government display the new royal cypher of King Charles III

Major contribution to the war effort, notably “L” Detachment, Special Air Service Brigade

1939

2023

Continue to make and supply official governmentDispatch Boxes, notably for Churchill as Secretary of State

1921

HRH Princess Elizabeth proclaimed Queen Elizabeth II and officially photographed with her Dispatch Boxes

Hepburn & Gale merges with Samuel Barrow & Brotherto become Barrow, Hepburn & Gale

1920

1953

Make and supply saddles, belts and cases to officers and soldiers during the Great War

1914

Hepburn & Gale merges with Ross & Co

1901

Samuel Barrow & Brother is formed

1848

John Hepburn commences leather tanning in Bermondsey

1760

Proper Chaps Carry Proper Bags.

Proper Bags From Barrow Hepburn & Gale.

‘Barrow, Hepburn & Gale have been making travel goods for generations, and although fashions are constantly on the change, their quality has always been superlative.

They are supplied not only to the home market, but the whole world, for the good reason that British craftsmanship in this class of goods has always been admired. At a time when a flourishing export trade is absolutely essential to the country’s survival, no manufacturer can do his country a better service than to produce goods so well made and designed that they may properly be called ambassadors of goodwill.’

Everything In Leather – The Story Of Barrow Hepburn & Gale, published in 1948.

thechap@barrowhepburngale.com | barrowhepburngale.com |

@barrowhepburngale

Editor: Gustav Temple Art Director: Rachel Barker Picture Editor: Theo Salter Sub-Editor: Romilly Clark Circulation Manager: Andy Perry Subscriptions Manager: Jen Rainnie

GUSTAV TEMPLE

CHRIS SULLIVAN

LAURA FOLEY

IAN SIMMONS

ACTUARIUS

The editor of The Chap for the last 25 years is also the author of The Chap Manifesto, The Chap Almanac, Around the World in 80 Martinis (Fourth Estate), Cooking For Chaps and Drinking For Chaps (Kyle Books) and How To Be Chap (Gestalten). He is currently working on a book without ‘Chap’ in the title.

Chris Sullivan is The Chap’s Contributing Editor. He founded and ran Soho’s Wag Club for two decades and is a former GQ style editor who has written for Italian Vogue, The Times, Independent and The FT. He is now Associate Lecturer at Central St Martins School of Art on youth style cults. @cjp_sullivan

Laura is a style coach and writer and also the founder of the Glamourist Group, a burgeoning community that brings together, through regular meetings, anybody who upholds the values of glamour and beauty in all of its varied expressions. www.thesensualstylist.co.uk @the_sensualstylist

Ian Simmons is News Editor of Fortean Times, possibly Britain’s strangest magazine.

When he is not writing about spontaneous human combustion and rains of fish, he is in-house writer for Mattereum, an innovative lawtech startup, although he is allegedly retired after a career as a museum curator and science communicator.

Actuarius is an artist, essayist, photographer and journalist. A selfconfessed petrolhead, he mainly produces works based around his twin passions of Art Deco and mechanised transport, making the shortlist for the highly prestigious Guild of Motoring Writers Feature Writer of the Year in 2021.

TORQUIL ARBUTHNOT

JOHN A. RILEY John A. Riley has lived and worked in Georgia, South Korea, and Vietnam, and is currently based in Newcastle. He has been a video technician, a university lecturer and a bingo caller, and written for The Korea Times, The Asian Review of Books, Hellebore Magazine and numerous academic publications.

OLIVIER WOODESFARQUHARSON

STEPHEN ARNELL

Torquil Arbuthnot is a social affairs journalist whose career started with The Chap in its early days. Torquil was ‘on the barricades’ at the very first Chap protest, Civilise the City, and continues the Great Work today by bringing traffic to a standstill on the Aldwych through the display of astounding pocket squares.

FRANCIS GIORDANELLA

Office address The Chap Ltd 69 Winterbourne Close Lewes, East Sussex BN7 1JZ

Olivier Woodes-Farquharson is an adventurer, diplomat, voice actor and writer, although not always in that order. When not travelling to obscure places that may or may not exist, he is most likely to be found at Cheltenham Races – the best place to blood his latest tweed – or furiously foraging in the English countryside.

Advertising Paul Williams paul@thechap.co.uk +353(0)83 1956 999

Stephen has been a TV channel controller, author (his first novel was published last year), media/culture commentator, occasional lecturer, movie consultant/ sales broker and amateur antiquarian. A habitué of Soho’s Colony Club scene during his younger years, Arnell now resides in bucolic Bedfordshire.

Subscriptions 01442 820 580 contact@webscribe.co.uk

Francis Giordanella formerly worked in the silversmithing trade and and later became a sommelier, studying with the Italian Sommelier Association. He spends his time perambulating around London and Europe in search of interesting, well-dressed, discerning individuals. @dandyfrancis

chap@thechap.co.uk www.thechap.co.uk @TheChapMag @TheChapMag TheChapMagazine

Printing: CPUK Ltd, Suite 12B Davey House, 31-31a St Neots Road, Eaton Ford, Cambridgeshire PE19 7BA Distribution: Warners Group Publications, West Street, Bourne, Lincolnshire, PE10 9PH T: 01778 391194

THE CHAP MANIFESTO 1 THOU SHALT ALWAYS WEAR TWEED. No other fabric says so defiantly: I am a man of panache, savoir-faire and devil-may-care, and I will not be served Continental lager beer under any circumstances.

2 THOU SHALT NEVER NOT SMOKE. Health and Safety “executives” and jobsworth medical practitioners keep trying to convince us that smoking is bad for the lungs/heart/skin/eyebrows, but we all know that smoking a bent apple billiard full of rich Cavendish tobacco raises one’s general sense of well-being to levels unimaginable by the aforementioned spoilsports.

3 THOU SHALT ALWAYS BE COURTEOUS TO THE LADIES. A gentleman is never truly seated on an omnibus or railway carriage: he is merely keeping the seat warm for when a lady might need it.

Those who take offence at being offered a seat are not really Ladies.

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4 THOU SHALT NEVER, EVER, WEAR PANTALOONS DE NIMES. When you have progressed beyond fondling girls in the back seats of cinemas, you can stop wearing jeans.

5 THOU SHALT ALWAYS DOFF ONE’S HAT. Alright, so you own a couple of trilbies. Good for you - but it’s hardly going to change the world. Once you start actually lifting them off your head when greeting passers-by, then the revolution will really begin.

6 THOU SHALT NEVER FASTEN THE LOWEST BUTTON ON THY WAISTCOAT. Look, we don’t make the rules, we simply try to keep them going. This one dates back to Edward VII, sufficient reason in itself to observe it.

7 THOU SHALT ALWAYS SPEAK PROPERLY. It’s really quite simple: instead of saying “Yo, wassup?”, say “How do you do?”

8 THOU SHALT NEVER WEAR PLIMSOLLS WHEN NOT DOING SPORT. Nor even when doing sport. Which you shouldn’t be doing anyway. Except cricket.

9 THOU SHALT ALWAYS WORSHIP AT THE TROUSER PRESS. At the end of each day, your trousers should be placed in one of Mr. Corby’s magical contraptions, and by the next morning your creases will be so sharp that they will start a riot on the high street.

10 THOU SHALT CULTIVATE INTERESTING FACIAL HAIR. By interesting we mean moustaches, or beards with a moustache attached.

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CONTENTS 8 AM I CHAP?

Readers submit themselves to the ultimate sartorial assessment

12 GENTLEMANLY PHOBIAS

Torquil Arbuthnot posits genuine phobias for chaps against made-up ones like coulrophobia (fear of clowns)

FEATURES 20 INTERVIEW: ZACK PINSENT

Gustav Temple meets the Regency clothier turned Grand Regency Ball organiser in his Brighthelmstone atelier

20 34 T HE SIGN OF THE SAINT

J ohn A. Riley on the way Leslie Charteris put much of himself into the character of Simon Templar

SARTORIAL FEATURES 44 THE GRAND SILVER JUBILEE BALL The impeccably dressed guests at this October’s night of a thousand waistcoats

62 SARTORIAL TUNE UP FOR THE GUARDS Sergeant Tim Garner on how he raised sartorial standards during his time with the Band of the Scots Guards

70 THE CHASE

Sophie Bainbridge on how Stanley Biggs recreated the journey taken by the protagonists of The 39 Steps

84 S ARTORIA LIRICO

Lynn Florkiewicz explains how a chance meeting with Italian actor Rossano Brazzi launched a bespoke Italian fashion house

CHAP LIFE 92 BATHING WITH THE NAIADS

Gustav Temple delves into Victorian style bathing at Ilfracombe on the north Devon coast

100 THE LADY AND THE VAMP

Laura Foley casts her kohl-lined eyes back to the emergence of the vamp in popular culture, offering style tips for the modern-day vamp

106 A BRIEF HISTORY OF FORTEAN TIMES

Ian Simmons tracks the strange history of Britain’s weirdest magazine, and the oddballs and eccentrics whom it gathered along the way

116 B LUEBIRDS OVER THE MOUNTAIN

Actuarius visits the site of Donald Campbell’s deadly attempt to break the water speed record aboard Bluebird K7

REVIEWS 124 T HE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ERNEST Francisco Giordanella meets Ernest Camilleri, costume supervisor on the recent Netflix series Ripley and Rupert Everett’s masterpiece about Oscar Wilde The Happy Prince

130 BOOKS

Reviews of tomes about Elvis Presley’s fashion style, Charles Hawtrey’s life and career, Outlandish travellers and John F. Kennedy’s lack of hats

136 CHAP MERCHANDISE

A cornucopia of items to thrill the wardrobe and tantalise the bathroom cabinet

Photo: Zack Pinsent and Madam Esmeralda by Soulstealer Photography

ISSUE 121 • WINTER 2024

READERS SUBMIT THEMSELVES TO THE ULTIMATE SARTORIAL ASSESSMENT. SEND YOUR PHOTO FOR CONSIDERATION TO CHAP@THECHAP.CO.UK

Richard Sherwood was sent to tidy his room, but then got distracted by a ghost on his widescreen (but not highscreen) television set.

Nevertheless, he made a good fist of getting dressed, adding a blue velvet jacket to tweed trousers and waistcoat to give a louche surface.

At first he appeared to have chosen black shoes, but after careful analysis in our photographic laboratory, they were seen, with great relief, to be brown. Still, as a punishment for not tidying his room, Richard was given a glass of water to drink.

“I present here for your assessment,” writes Ivan Bowkett, “my friend and all round good egg, Mr Charles Rose.

Here you find him posing outside that well known gentlemen’s outfitters Thomas Farthing.”

It would seem that, despite arriving on a velocipede bearing the shop’s name, Mr. Rose was not granted ingress due to sporting pantaloons de Nimes. On this matter we are entirely in agreement with the management of Thomas Farthing.

“I discovered Garfield Hunter McIlveen lurking in his kitchen,” writes Anna Forest.

“Is he Chap?”

What a weird kitchen. A few charming original fixtures and fittings, ruined by the addition of a cheap Formica work surface and a plastic dustbin. A little like Mr. McIlveen’s outfit.

“Photograph taken while in attendance of the local tweed cycle ride,” writes Clive Barrow, “unfortunately surrounded by ghastly steampunk aficionados in top hats and goggles, those being skilfully removed from the picture.”

Indeed, sir. And your waistcoat was also removed using the same technical skills, presumably. Nevertheless, we do admire your use of colour and combination of traditional tweeds and corduroys with modern yet acceptable cycling hooves.

“Long may you and your contributors continue to uphold standards of etiquette, good taste and dress sense in the face of generally declining standards,” writes Maverick Tendency, aka David Thorndycraft. “To this end I send a picture of myself dressed as a Cistercian Monk at Fountains Abbey. Those chaps knew how to live!”

Sir, the photograph you sent dressed as a monk was too disturbing, so we took the liberty of using the other perfectly normal snap you sent, in which you look nothing like a drunk monk who has become lost in the time continuum in a cricket field.

“Yes of course I am...” writes Gary Horsfield.

“Just ask my man ‘Halligan’.”

If David Thorndycraft believed he could outdo Gary Horsfield in the oddball stakes, Mr. Horsfield is here to prove that he will always be our strangest reader. Although, in perfect honesty, we would be too afraid to ask ‘Halligan’ anything other than “Can I go home now, please?”

“Not one to blow my own trumpet (I’m more of a trombone player),” writes Frank Annable, “but I thought that the attached photo was appropriate. Incidentally, just in case you might consider mentioning it, even though it resembles a ‘syrup’, that is my own hair.”

Damn, and we thought we had finally found something to mock in the otherwise exemplary wardrobe of Mr. Annable. Although, also as ever, his wife has upstaged him, and there is no question over the authenticity of her barnet.

This unnamed chap has gone into a brown study while smoking, as can be seen from the partially obscured tin of the pipe tobacco we used to make called Brown Study. The abandoned half empty glasses of wine suggest that the subject is so engrossed in his thoughts that he has forgotten how inebriated he is.

The number 19 bus has a route that runs through the King’s Road, Sloane Square, Knightsbridge and Piccadilly, yet somehow it managed to pick up these ragamuffins, probably in Islington. Luckily Richard Sherwood (front centre) was there to keep them in line with his pistol.

“A few vintage 50s outfits, which hopefully verify my chapness,” writes Dominic Carey.

Sartorially, there is nothing to complain about here, on both sides of the gender divide.

However, the hotel you are staying at might want to consider their health and safety policy when it comes to the way they store their domestic appliances.

Etiquette

Gentlemanly Phobias Torquil Arbuthnot, in a paper submitted to the Lancet (he’s still waiting to hear back), submits a list of the most common phobias afflicting today’s chap-about-town

“Sadly the great British public fail to observe these strictures and feel it is their human right to consume vast quantities of deep-fried offal at every opportunity. One cannot walk down the average high street without being visually, aurally and olfactorily assailed by the sight, sound and smells of ruffians chomping on vast bargain buckets of Alabama-style, finger-lickin’ good, sautéed squirrel” 12

Genetic Ergophobia (Fear of work)

N

DISCERNING VESTIPHOBIA

owadays we live in such a culture of self-imposed victimhood that every egocentric hobbledehoy claims to be suffering from some imagined phobia, after having watched several seconds of some TikTok quackery. The phobias are, of course, not only imagined but also desperately trendy, such as the wildly implausible coulrophobia (fear of clowns).

Not for the tortured youth of today are such mundane phobias as fear of spiders or fear of heights; but eco-friendly, politically acceptable phobias such as apocalypse anxiety, benziphobia (fear of petrol) and capiophobia (fear of the police).

However, this is not to say that there are not genuine phobias that afflict the Chap. Fortunately the following phobias do not impede a gentleman from wending his way in the world, but are confronted with the Chap’s customary phlegm and stiff upper lip; laughed off as part of life’s rich tapestry, whatever the inner turmoil beneath one’s tweed waistcoat.

(Fear of certain fabrics) Particular textiles, mostly those made via a test-tube rather than a loom, undoubtedly have their place. If one is a cowpoke or vaquero moseying along the Chisholm Trail, or a roiling ball of teenage angst in 1950s America, then pantaloons de Nîmes are perfectly appropriate trousering. But the Chap will shudder at the ubiquitous sight of these ‘jeans’ being worn by every age group and on every occasion, from streetcorner hoodlums with their Y-fronts showing over the belt-loops of their low-riders, to followers of Mr Jeremy Clarkson’s fashion sense who favour their pantaloons worn with a blazer, a rugby shirt and designer plimsolls.

Similarly, if one is an actor in 1970s ‘artistic’ blue films, then vibrant shirts of imported Italian nylon and flared trousers of gaudy polyester are de rigueur. Upon encountering garments made from such materials, the Chap cannot but wince. The way to

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Secondary Deipnophobia

manage this phobia is either to offer gentle sartorial advice or surreptitiously tap one’s pipe embers directly on to the flammable material.

of Mammon for a pittance and some luncheon vouchers. The way to manage this phobia is steadfastly to refuse any offer of gainful employment. If the impertinent jackanapes at the local labour exchange insist on one’s taking a job, then simply produce a forged medical document that certifies that one is suffering incurably from Green Monkey disease, or has repetitive strain injury from Raconteur’s Wrist.

GENETIC ERGOPHOBIA (Fear of work) The Chap is not averse to earning a living, and will often put in a hard morning with the Financial Times checking his shares, or consulting with the estate manager on which nonagenarians to evict from their tied cottages. Of an afternoon, a Chap may also spend several exhausting hours composing a sonnet or adding a few paragraphs to a monograph on Ottoman marquetry, and of an evening may also add the finishing touches to a forged Picasso or shin up a hotel drainpipe to steal some dowager’s pearls. But the Chap is not a 9-to-5 drone, commuting in from Surbiton every day on the 8.15 to toil at some temple

SECONDARY DEIPNOPHOBIA (Fear of watching others eating in public) Eating in public is only permissible in certain social situations, as stipulated in Debrett’s Correct Al Fresco Form (1928 edition).

These include the butlered picnic, punting on the Cam and obliging the King by nibbling on a canapé at a royal garden party.

Sadly the great British public fail to observe these strictures, and feel it is their human right to consume vast quantities of deep-

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Galloping Athlemophobia

fried offal at every opportunity. One cannot walk down the average high street without being visually, aurally and olfactorily assailed by the sight, sound and smells of ruffians chomping on vast bargain buckets of Alabama-style, finger-lickin’ good, sautéed squirrel, and slurping some carbonated drink made from the kola nut. Now that trains no longer have dining cars, one has to share a carriage with itinerant louts washing down their Intercity ‘sizzler’ with copious draughts of tinned continental lager. The way to manage this phobia is to avert one’s eyes and raise a silver vinaigrette box filled with Gentleman’s Relish to one’s nostrils.

found daydreaming on the boundary at deep fine leg. But being expected to take part in any form of energetic sporting activity is anathema to most of us. One does not wish to spend one’s weekend thwacking a rubber squash ball pointlessly around a concrete oubliette, or kicking an inflated leather bladder while bellowing like an enraged Cape buffalo. The riff-raff who participate in such pastimes also feel the incomprehensible need to show tribal allegiance to their ‘team’ by wearing garish badged singlets emblazoned with advertising slogans, sometimes accessorised with a firework clenched between the buttocks.

One can be an aficionado of bullfighting or a stalwart at the Catford dogs, but this does not mean one is obliged to wander the streets squeezed into a greyhound’s racing jacket, and one does not pop down to the tobacconist sporting a matador’s traje de luces. The way to manage this phobia is to telephone Athletics Anonymous, where a

GALLOPING ATHLEMOPHOBIA (Fear of athletic pursuits) Physical exercise is generally frowned upon but, when occasion allows, the Chap can shove a ha’penny and tiddle a wink with the best of them, and in the summer can oft be

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will doubtless also contain an excess of sugar and be topped with a paper umbrella, slice of exotic fruit or even a lit sparkler. In the Americas every cocktail seems to come with a garnish of chocolate sprinkles and candied fruits more suited to an ice-cream sundae.

The way to manage this phobia is only to frequent Soho after-hours drinking dens, gentlemen’s clubs, louche illegal casinos and the Chicote Bar in Madrid between 1931 and 1936.

REFINED KAPELAPHOBIA (Fear of certain hats) The fifth commandment of The Chap Manifesto is “Thou shalt always doff one’s hat.” Although there has been an agreeable rise in the sales of fedoras and trilbies, the vast majority of the hat-wearing public do not wear these stylish lids, but instead see fit to perch various ludicrous chapeaux atop their heads. In the face of these horrors, one can only blanch and take a healthy pull at one’s hipflask. Headgear that induce nausea in a Chap include the baseball cap (unless one happens to be pinch hitting for the Boston Red Sox), the Patagonian goatherd’s bonnet or the Vietnamese peasant’s bamboo nón trúc (unless one is gainfully employed as such in the Andes or the paddy fields), woollen beanies (unless one is a qualified village idiot), the balaclava (unless on active service in the SAS or dragging a sled to the North Pole), the bucket hat (unless a Mancunian musician or a toddler), and the padded trapper hat (unless employed by the Hudson’s Bay Company).

Not only is this headwear aesthetically harrowing, it is also almost impossible with these hats to execute a perfect doff such as the ‘Delayed Chamberlain’ or the ‘Logan Arabesque’. The way to manage this phobia is to use one’s whangee to tip any such abomination off the wearer’s head and into the gutter where it belongs. n

drunken Irishman will talk you out of any impulse to exert oneself.

CONVOLUTED DIPSOPHOBIA (Fear of nonsensical cocktails) Cocktails should be made with gin or brandy and one other ingredient (two at a pinch) and should have a no-nonsense name such as a Sidecar or a Dry Martini. Unfortunately, if one sashays into a cocktail bar nowadays, one’s delicate sensibilities will be affronted by the sticky fare on offer. Instead of the barman murmuring, “The usual Gimlet, sir?” one will be presented with a lengthy menu of potions with twee or innuendo-laden names.

Instead of being gin-based and requiring just a hint of vermouth, these foul brews will require papaya syrup or rose-petal infusion or porcupine essence or some Ruritanian liqueur made from fermented beetroot. It

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FEATURES

INTERVIEW: ZACK PINSENT

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LESLIE CHARTERIS: THE SAINT

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Interview

ZA C K P I N S E N T Gustav Temple met long-time Chap associate and friend Zack Pinsent, to discuss what he had been up to in the fourteen years since he first sartorially bowled us over at a Chap Olympiad

“I have absolutely always loved, from an early age, Dracula and vampires. The macabre, the fun, the spooky… I would watch Christopher Lee’s Dracula and think, what is so fabulous about them?

Obviously demonic powers but also… clothes!

They get to be dramatic; they get to be suave”

W

e are seated in the antechamber of Zack’s tailoring workshop in Brighton, two Regency chairs stationed either side of a small table bearing an antique tea caddy and two Italian Spode willow pattern teacups. Flanking one side is a long burgundy velvet curtain, hiding the nuts and bolts of the workroom. I take a peep inside and Zack apologises for the mess, although to me it looks like all the other bespoke workrooms I’ve seen: tailor’s dummies draped in cloth, bolts of fabric and tailor’s shears hiding under tape measures.

Zack Pinsent has been around the Chap since he was 17 years old, when he had

just left school, and has now become a very successful maker of Regency clothing, as well as, more recently, organiser and host of the Grand Regency Ball at Brighton’s Royal Pavilion. When we met, he welcomed me in the same way as he would one of his clients, daintily pouring the tea in a colourful Regency outfit that immediately laid to rest the Brummellian monochrome myth of 1820s menswear.

Zack: First I’m going to offer you some tea, and this one is Russian Caravan. The fun thing for my clients who’ve never had anything made before is to introduce them to my world. Bespoke tailoring is a weirdly

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Russian Caravan tea is served from an antique caddy

intimate process and it makes some people feel a bit nervous, so I try to make this introduction as homely as possible.

them and they all drink champagne. But for tailors it was generally gin.

Like in the film Bridesmaids?

Exactly like that! So in the Regency era, there were tailor’s shops everywhere, not just on and around Savile Row. You couldn’t buy clothes anywhere else; they had to be made for you. If you didn’t go to a tailor, a journeyman tailor would come to you, then you’d repair and patch the garment yourself after that. People took a lot more care in their clothes than we do now.

CHAP: Wouldn’t coffee be more appropriate to the Regency period?

Zack: Some and some. You had to go to places to get coffee. The way coffee was taxed was that it all had to be brewed in the morning, then whatever quantity they had in barrels was taxed. So coffee was only drunk in coffee houses. Whereas at home they usually drank tea. So visiting your tailor was a very social occasion. Men would bump into their friends and have a chat. The modern equivalent would be women going shopping, with a personal shopper joining

Was it as expensive to have clothes made then as it is today?

To some degree. I mean, today you can go into Schiaparelli and buy a couture

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garment for £30,000, or Primark and buy a suit for £50. In the Georgian period, a fully embroidered silk court suit could have cost as much as a house. It’s hard to make sense of it compared to today, because the cost of living is so high now. And you don’t have to go back very far to find extreme comparisons. Today we probably buy quadruple the amount of clothes than our grandparents did in a year. Women in the 1950s bought about eight new items a year, and now that’s about what they buy in a weekend. I saw this interview with people working in factories in china and India, and one of the workers asked, ‘Do people in the West wash their clothes? Because we’re making so much of it. Do they wear it once and then throw it away?’ So that big bubble has got to pop at some point, but in the meantime, the most sustainable thing you can do is buy vintage, at boot sales and so on; basically don’t buy anything you cannot repair.

“Weddings have a dress code, Ascot has a dress code, so my event can have a dress code, out of respect for everyone else attending but also reverence for the place you’re in. You’re having a ball and dining in the only royal palace in public hands where you can do an event like this. The Royal Pavilion was designed as a party palace, so come and have a party!”

Above: Zack at the Chap Olympiad

The first photo ever taken of Zack by The Chap

TV, the toaster, but never the fridge – we trusted the fridge! And now where’s the trust? We don’t trust the fridge any more!

It’s the same with technology, with built-in obsolescence, instead of taking your vacuum cleaner to be repaired, you throw it away and buy a new one.

Yes! We just bought a new fridge, after having the same one for 20 years and it just stopped working. But the new one is connected to Wi-Fi. I haven’t looked into it or activated it, but I guess the idea is that you can check in on your fridge if you’re worried about it, while at a party or something. I don’t want to know how my fridge is doing, ever! Whatever happened to the trust we had in our fridges? When you go on holiday, you turn off the Wi-Fi, the

We first met when you had just turned 17. We were doing the Chap Olympiad at the South Bank in July and put the word out for helpers. You turned up on a sweltering day wearing a top hat and a fur coat, and we knew you belonged with us. Was that your pre-Regency era?

Yes, it was also pre my being able to make clothes, so it was all vintage stuff. I’d been subscribing to The Chap for a couple of years by that point, and I thought, hurrah, I can go and meet other Chappish people!

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anyone who knows me is aware, I dress like this all the time. We were on a holiday in an Air B&B in some remote place and I was putting on a shirt and cravat every day, and Alex said to me, what are you doing, there’s no-one here? For him this sort of thing is costume, but to me it’s clothing.

The thing that launched me into wearing vintage every day was when I was about 14 and we were moving house, and I went into the loft and found my great-greatgrandfather’s three-piece suits and they fit me like a glove. They still fit as well. I wear them when it’s Goodwood Revival.

How much further back was your pull towards old fashioned clothes?

Oh, we have to go back much further than 17. I have absolutely always loved, from an early age, Dracula and vampires. The macabre, the fun, the spooky… I would watch Christopher Lee’s Dracula and think, what is so fabulous about them? Obviously demonic powers but also… clothes! They get to be dramatic; they get to be suave.

Everyone else in my family has birthdays in October but mine’s in June, so every summer there’d be a birthday party for me with bat shaped cakes and kids running around in blistering sunshine in witch costumes. Kids just love dressing up, and the worst thing you can say to a child is to stop dressing up. So my parents never did, and this is the result!

My dad has always been a square peg in a round hole. He would always dress differently. He’d come to pick me up from school and all the other dads would be in business suits, and he’d be in a biker jacket, cowboy boots and a T-shirt saying, ‘Jesus is coming – look busy’.

He’s a total petrolhead and good at fixing cars, so I’ve always had that interest in mechanics, how things work. I love clocks and the whole idea of 2D to 3D; how things work together is just how my brain works.

Was it the first time you’d tried on things that were that old?

Not at all, because in those days you could walk down to the vintage shops in Brighton and buy actual Victorian and Edwardian clothes. Gone are those days now. I remember picking up an Edwardian black shawl-collared waistcoat with silk covered buttons for six quid.

So what happened between that sartorial discovery aged 14 and when we met you when you were 17?

Well, what I realised with those clothes was that I had the beginnings of a capsule wardrobe, and could swap in waistcoats and trousers. That’s all anyone needs: one really good outfit that you really like, and then you can swap things in and out. Once you have a capsule wardrobe you begin to develop your own look, and your own style. And then you become interesting to look at.

So when did you start dressing in Regency clothing all the time?

Not until I started making it. People see some of my pieces and ask if they’re original and I say, of course not! I do have a burgeoning collection of 18th and 19th century clothing, for study and understanding and for when I give lectures and talks. Once you’re dealing with museums and collections, there are all sorts of issues around what can be handled and duty of care, but when it’s my own original stuff I just say, Oh it’s fine.

I’ve got a lot of Regency clothes. As

Don’t you think that, apart from a few dandy/chappy types, most men are quite awkward about expressing themselves through clothes?

But it’s not their fault. Clothes can just be clothes, but if dressing a certain way can make you feel good about yourself before you’ve even left the house, then you should

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Zack with partner and husband-to-be Alex

Can't face any more high street brands? Try Fleet London for cool boxers and sharp shirts. www.fleetlondon.co.uk

CLIFTON SUITS TAILORS & OUTFITTERS 42 - 44 TRIANGLE WEST, CLIFTON, BRISTOL, BS8 1ER 01179099948

Soulstealer Photography Zack at the Chap Olympiad with Bethan Garland (left) and Helen Chapman

wear them. I mean, we live in a hellscape.

We might as well dress nicely while the world burns.

There was a time when, at the weekend, I’d be home from boarding school and wearing my vintage gear and I’d go into Brighton and see people walking about of my own age. And I would see someone in the street who I thought I knew from school, but no, it was just someone who was dressed exactly like them! There was a fad for baseball caps with the sticker on them, and my friends would be saying, oh it’s great, it’s limited edition. And I’d say yes – limited edition of 40,000! And you spent how much on that? I’d spent the same on a whole Victorian outfit. I was walking around in vintage and bowler hats and all that. My two style inspirations were David Suchet’s Poirot and Patrick Macnee’s John Steed. Then I

met you guys and was very much star struck, because I knew I’d met my people.

Your second grand Regency ball at the Royal Pavilion in Brighton is coming up in January. How did you get from making clothes for people who attend Regency balls to actually running a Regency ball yourself ?

I was born and bred in Brighton. The Pavilion is absolutely iconic and not enough people know about it. I’ve always wanted to go to a ball there, and there hasn’t been once since the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo in 2015. So I decided to do it myself.

The first one was in May this year, 150 people from 17 different countries, and I stood back in the evening and thought, Gosh, I did it. It was a huge undertaking and everyone had said, oh it’s too expensive,

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@louisascottphotography Hosting the first Regency Ball at the Royal Pavilion

no-one will come. But the tickets sold out in three minutes and I had a waiting list of 200 people. You see there’s nothing in the UK on the scale of something like Fête Galante in Versailles. There’s a banqueting hall at the Pavilion and we serve a threecourse meal inspired by Regency dishes. It was such a joy and a privilege to see people enter that incredible music room and go – Wow! I think many ghosts were made that night. People had flown from as far as Japan, Singapore. We had an opening soirée on the Friday, dance practice and the actual ball on Saturday, and then a promenade through Brighton in full costume, while the Fringe festival was in full swing.

For the 2026 one we’re going even bigger, with one ball at the Pavilion and another one somewhere else. In 2025 we’re having the soirée at the Hove Museum of Creativity, then the Grand Ball at the Royal Pavilion on the Saturday, but then also carriage rides, so you can get dropped off at the ball in a horse-drawn carriage.

Then on Sunday we’ll have a behindthe-scenes tour of the turrets and tunnels of the Pavilion, followed by a lavish afternoon tea in the Queen Adelaide apartments, which are closed to the public. Then on Monday a behind-the-scenes tour of the Theatre Royal followed by a period ballet of Romeo and Juliet. For 2026 it’ll be even bigger. I’ve got a five-year-plan to build and create the Brighton Regency Festival. I want to take Brighton away from its reputation as somewhere just for stag and hen dos and share the wonderful history and culture we have here. Brighton would not exist in the way that it does without the Pavilion.

The next ball is on Burns Night. George IV brought back the wearing of tartan and the romanticism of Scotland and Rabbie Burns. Also this will be the 222nd anniversary of Burns Night, so numerically that’s quite fun, and it’s also the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth, and this will be the first of many events to kick off that significant year.

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Good night folks, this has been a long interview

What’s the standard of dress like at your events?

My view was that weddings have a dress code, Ascot has a dress code, so my event can have a dress code – it should do. It’s out of respect for everyone else attending, but also reverence for the place you’re in. You’re having a ball and dining in a royal palace – the only royal palace in public hands where you can do an event like this. The Royal Pavilion was designed as a party palace, so come and have a party!

What about the famous idea that he invented black tie and that everyone was dressed in bright colours before that? Isn’t Brummell credited with paring down menswear to buff breeches, black coat and white shirt and cravat?

People had been doing that for a long time. It became an apocryphal myth in the Victorian era. People say Brummell got rid of colour in menswear. Have you seen Victorian waistcoats, patterned trousers and coloured top hats? Whether the Beau personally made any difference is something I doubt, but his story certainly has. I think that’s why he’s got a statue on Jermyn Street, because of everything said about him and the myth created around him. I mean, Sherlock Holmes didn’t exist but there’s a statue of him. Paddington – didn’t exist but there’s a statue of him at the station.

Do you know whether Beau Brummell ever attended anything at the Royal Pavilion?

I don’t think he had enough money! When you look at his life through that lens you realise that he always struggled financially. I think Brummell was a very rude person who actually wasn’t that great or innovative. Everything written about him was either by him or his friends, so when it comes to a historian looking at sources, it’s all very biased information.

Oscar Wilde – didn’t exist but now there are two statues of him! n

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Books

T he S i g n of The Saint John A. Riley on the man behind the Saint, Leslie Charteris, and the many other strings to the Singapore-born author’s bow

“Templar might have posed for any illustration of the latest and smartest effort of Savile Row in the way of gents’ natty outfitting – that is, if he could have been persuaded to discard the automatic pistol, which is not generally considered to form an indispensable adjunct to What the Well-Dressed Man will Wear this Season” 34

Leslie Charteris

T

he happy highwayman, the brighter buccaneer, the Robin Hood of twentieth century crime. Roger Moore’s TV incarnation of the character best known as the Saint is fondly remembered and still sometimes repeated on television. However, it’s the original literary incarnation that is most satisfying, and most chap-like. Moreover, the character’s creator was a fascinating figure. Leslie Charteris was a man of prodigious talent. He was prolific and eclectic: he prospected for gold, devised a symbolic language, wrote a Spanish language textbook, and designed a trailer with which he toured the United States.

Charteris was born Leslie Charles Boyer Lin in 1907 in Singapore, and was educated at Rossall school in Lancashire, where his

mixed heritage made him something of an outsider. Taking refuge in the escapism of boys’ own fiction, he eventually determined to distil the trappings of the adventure story into the perfect ratio of “battle, murder, sudden death, with plenty of good beer and damsels in distress.”

Simon Templar, who appeared in 14 novels, 34 novelettes and 95 short stories by Charteris, plus novels written by others, and films, television, radio, and comic strips, is at once an unmistakable yet slippery character.

His virtuous nickname is never explained.

Charteris promised that this tale would one day be told and yet never delivered it.

Templar is oddly devoid of background – living in a large West London flat, beyond his means. This lack of history gives the

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Saint a chameleonic character: he’s as at home busting up a racecourse protection racket in Brighton as he is diving for sunken treasure off the Virgin Islands. He’s happy to have the thuggish, illiterate American exgangster Hoppy Uniatz as his sidekick, and yet his girlfriend is the archetypal English rose Patricia Holm. Templar loves her distinguished brand of beauty but also what he thinks of as her masculine personality.

Moving through social classes and national boundaries with ease, Templar is unmistakably a gentleman, a chap; though he is a self-made man, not an aristocrat.

As Charteris tells us, Templar “might have posed for any illustration of the latest and smartest effort of Savile Row in the way of gents’ natty outfitting – that is, if he could have been persuaded to discard the automatic pistol, which is not generally

considered to form an indispensable adjunct to What the Well-Dressed Man will Wear this Season.” His flat is filled with antique weaponry from around the world, and he drives an opulent car of Charteris’ devising: a five-cylinder cream and red Hirondel.

Templar has a unique idiolect, which one suspects is less of an invention than it is Charteris’ own idioms placed in Templar’s mouth. Criminals are “the ungodly”, to be punched in “the beezer”, and stolen loot is “boodle.” One of his endearing habits is giving nicknames to the ruffians he comes up against: “pongo”, “pot hat”, and “face ache.” These withering put-downs show that Templar is never at a loss for words, even when staring down the barrel of a gun.

The first Saint novel, Meet the Tiger, asks the reader to ponder which of the characters is the ‘Tiger’ that Templar is seeking.

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Subsequent plots also revolve around ‘how.’

We know that Templar won’t die – why would Charteris kill off such a beloved and lucrative character? – so why bother putting him in mortal danger? Instead Charteris focuses the reader’s attention on how Templar will pull off his latest escapade.

Templar acts as he talks – with complete confidence, a flair for the dramatic and humorous, and yet with a ruthlessness that snaps into place when Templar deems it necessary. Reading him in action has no readily available analogue. It is how one might imagine having a ringside seat for a bareknuckle fight during the Regency era. As Charteris put it, the Saint punches with “a masterly blend of science and brute strength.”

But it’s not just the punches, or the breathtaking way Charteris writes action;

it’s the plots of these novels: they always come together with villains vanquished and victims philanthropically rewarded, in convoluted yet often surprising ways. Again, the reader knows that the Saint will emerge triumphant; it’s the intricacies of how this will be achieved, against all odds, that the reader is hoping to discover.

For me, the saga that is told across The Saint Closes the Case and The Avenging Saint is the pinnacle of Charteris’ achievement. They show Templar at his most determined and ruthless. Charteris raised the stakes and had Templar pursuing a villainous ideologue who has come into possession of a death ray. The second book, as its title suggests, sees Templar taking revenge for a fallen comrade.

Despite this novel-spanning saga, it’s the novelette that was Charteris’ most cherished form. Longer than a short story, so that

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“Simon Templar acts as he talks – with complete confidence, a flair for the dramatic and humorous, yet with a ruthlessness that snaps into place when The Saint deems it necessary. It is how one might imagine having a ringside seat during a bare knuckle fight during the Regency era”

two or three can be collected in a single paperback, it is in Charteris’ hands a tightly focused and highly concentrated piece of escapism. He joked that Saint novelettes can be consumed in a single sitting, ideal for occasions such as “while waiting for the wife to put on her hat.” Enter the Saint, Featuring the Saint and Alias the Saint collect the earliest and freshest of these; a distinct but now rare literary form borne of pulp magazines.

Charteris also wrote short stories featuring Templar, beginning in a pulp-esque paper called The Thriller, whose editor Monty Haydon did much to encourage Charteris to develop Templar and his world. The Brighter Buccaneer and The Saint Intervenes (the latter

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ANTIQUARIAN BOOK DEPARTMENT The Chap webular emporium now boasts a new category of desirable product: books either directly or indirectly related to The Chap oeuvre. From signed first editions of The Chap Manifesto to hardback copies of Stephen Potter’s One-upmanship series, including the odd extremely rare sartorial tome such as Today There are No Gentlemen by Nik Cohn.

The litera r y c h ap w il l f in d m u c h to mul l over i n the ‘Chap B o o ks ’ s e c tio n o f WWW.T HEC HAP.C O .UK

Leslie Charteris, still suave in his later years

originally published under the far superior title Boodle) collect many of these stories.

The Saint’s success allowed Charteris to have a lifestyle that paralleled Templar’s.

Moving to Hollywood and writing for films, Charteris found that The Chinese Exclusion Act forbade him from taking permanent residency in the USA. This law forbade immigration for persons with 50% or more Chinese heritage; Charteris’ father was Chinese and had been born in Xiamen.

Charteris travelled extensively, sailing round the Caribbean, befriending Hollywood stars like Gregory Peck and Sabu, flying to Rio on the Hindenburg’s maiden voyage, and researching the life of matador Juan Belmonte in Tenerife.

Even as he enjoyed success and relaxed his grip on the franchise, Charteris was

always involved in The Saint’s appearances in other media, and edited the later novels that were written by other authors. Even the Saint’s distinctive theme tune was originally dreamed up by Charteris. Ever the perfectionist, he felt he owed the character’s legion of fans a certain consistency and quality of experience.

The way Charteris tinkered with the series over the years, giving the books alternate titles, updating cultural and political references, plus the proliferation of eye-catching, sometimes gaudy paperback covers, makes the Saint books a collector’s dream. However, it’s not the physical objects that carry the Saint’s ultimate appeal: it’s the promise of assured, stylish, and immaculately turned-out escapism that only Leslie Charteris could deliver. n

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SARTORIAL

THE GRAND SILVER JUBILEE BALL

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SARTORIAL TUNE-UP FOR THE GUARDS

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PHOTOSHOOT: THE CHASE

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ANGELO LITRICO

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Photoshoot

THE GRAND SILVER JUBILEE BALL The Chap’s Grand Silver Jubilee Ball was indeed a night of a thousand waistcoats PHOTOGRAPHY: SOULSTEALER PHOTOGRAPHY @SSTEALER

O

n Saturday 12th October 2024, three hundred immaculately dressed souls descended on Hamilton House in Balham, a region of the capital not generally known for decadent soirées. But this was a truly special night, for The Chap was celebrating 25 years of publication at the Grand Silver Jubilee Ball.

Never in the field of human conviviality have such vast quantities of hair lacquer, mascara, hair pomade, moustache wax, hair curlers and lipstick been used on so few.

From 7pm there was a seemingly endless flow of the restless of jaw and the itchy of foot pouring through the doors, in search of glamour, excitement, loud music from a bygone era and gallons of champagne.

Reader, they found it. Nattily attired guests such as Zack Pinsent set the sartorial bar very high, but many of the guests, having chosen a different wardrobe route, managed to reach it. Outfits ranged from a man in full

Cavalier costume, to several 18th century Macaronis, through a range of Wildean dandies and Victorian bustles, many superb showings of black and white tie (hats were permitted indoors, on this special occasion), spivvy 1940s double-breasted suits, military wear including a genuine Guardsman in full mess kit, 1920s flappers, divas and vintage fashion mavens, sharply angled forties femmes fatales and even a sprinkling of louche fifties lounge lizards. In the Gothic/punk corner was The Damned singer Dave Vanian, whose birthday it happened to be that very night.

Entertainment kicked off with Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer, whose Chap-hop ditties got the crowd to their feet, followed by several prizes awarded for best dressed Chap and best dressed Chapette. A special award of a Geoff Stocker silk dressing gown for the louchest outfit was awarded to Sarah Sewandsew, who had delighted the judges (both male and female) with her unique showgirl outfit.

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Valerie de Meurteuil, dispenser of flapper flourishes on any occasion

Sarah Sewandsew, winner of the Geoff Stocker prize for louchest outfit

Mr B The Gentleman Rhymer gets the crowd to their feet

The prize for Best men’s facial hair went to Tim Garner, who won a splendid men’s grooming kit from Captain Fawcett, while Sally Sweetlove won a wonderful beaded shawl from Pretty Eccentric. Best dressed Chapette went to Pandora Harrison, who received a lingerie gift set from What Katie Did, and the highly coveted award for best dressed Chap, who won a Harris Tweed jacket from Walker Slater, was secured by Aidan Rothnie.

Once speeches had been made, cocktails consumed and rubbernecking engaged in, it was time for main band the Silver Jubilee Hot Jazz Serenaders to light up the dancefloor. This rootin’ tootin’ quintet banged out a multitude of cracking swing jazz tunes, after which disc jockey DJ Lou Lou took to the decks to keep everyone moving.

Just when everyone thought it was all winding down and craning their necks for their carriages outside, a lone figure entered the grand ballroom, wearing a full head walrus mask and playing the bagpipes. The confused crowd parted and let Gary Gronnestad take the stage, where he squeezed out an excellent and moving rendition of Auld Lang Syne to delirious rounds of applause.

The Grand Silver Jubilee Ball captured, in one magical night, the essence and spirit of anarcho-dandyism, and brought a decadent crowd together in a grand ballroom to celebrate the peculiarity of being a Chap or Chapette. As host Gustav Temple put it in his speech, “Tonight we are the bright young things, the old fogeys and the scarily eccentric, all at the same time. Tonight we are all 25 years old!” n

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Historically speaking, a Chap could not reach much further back than a Cavalier’s outfit

David Vanian and Sarah Wilde enjoying a damned good birthday celebration

RAFFISH EAU DE COLOGNE FROM THE CHAP

AVAILABLE FROM WWW.THECHAP.CO.UK

Winner of best-dressed Chapette Pandora Pitstop

And a very dapper good evening to you too, sir

Do we mind if you smoke, madam? Not in the slightest

Get that Geoff Stocker dressing gown off, Gustav, it’s mine!

In a roomful of flappers, one of them really stood out

An entire outfit to co-ordinate with one’s lapel badge - that is anarcho-dandyism

Well I’ll be damned

Sartorial

SARTORIAL TUNE-UP FOR THE GUARDS Sergeant Tim Garner, former saxophonist in the Band of the Scots Guards, was winner of the Best Moustache prize at the Grand Silver Jubilee Ball. He recalls how he raised sartorial standards during his time with the Scots Guards

“I took my seat within the saxophone section and nervously started surveying the scene before me. I was shocked to see so many faux pas on display. One trumpet player was wearing a tie with pictures of dogs embroidered upon it, one trombonist was wearing ankle boots (with a suit!) and one clarinettist even – dare I say it – wore a jacket made of... leather!”

F

or centuries, the iconic regiments of the Guards Brigade have been famous for their turnout and bearing on parade. Well-groomed bearskin cap, dazzling white buff and gleaming boots all contribute to this image. So when I was fortunate enough to join the Band of the Scots Guards as a young saxophone player in London in the 1980s, it was made very clear to me that, along with musical excellence,

the standard of dress must be maintained.

And indeed it was. Well, that is to say it was maintained on parade. Off parade it was often a different story.

I was met one sunny morning at the gate of Wellington Barracks, just next to Buckingham Palace, by a chap dressed in an immaculate pin-stripe suit and I thought, ‘Mmm, so far so good.’ He introduced himself and led me to the band practice

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Nathan Clark: preferred making perfect boots to wearing fitted jackets

room to meet the band. This is when things got decidedly sketchier. While the majority of the chaps clearly had an idea how to dress themselves, others certainly did not.

Back in those days, every band member was given an annual report on his performance, and part of this report covered ‘turnout in civilian attire’ – so it was a good idea to make some effort in this area, as it could mean the difference between being promoted or not.

I took my seat within the saxophone section and nervously started surveying the scene before me. I was, it has to be said, slightly shocked to see so many faux pas on display. One trumpet player was wearing a tie with little pictures of dogs embroidered upon it, one trombonist was wearing ankle boots (with a suit!) and one clarinettist even – dare I say it – wore a jacket made of... leather!

I was only able to spot one or two of the band members wearing decently cut suits,

and hardly any wore tweed. It was clear that these people needed help. We worked our way through the music rehearsal and then went for a coffee break. Everyone was very friendly and introduced themselves one by one. But all I found myself doing as they did so was checking out their attire.

It was most upsetting. These were members of one of the most famous bands in the world, and yet some of them were dressed like market traders; it was altogether a very strange experience. I immediately set to work in bringing their collective image up to scratch. It was a delicate operation, as I didn’t know these people and wanted to make a good impression. So I straightened my ‘brigade’ tie and took a deep breath.

Approaching one chap, I enquired, “Tell me, what was the thinking behind your outfit”?

He looked puzzled and simply shrugged.

“Dunno” he said.

“Have you heard of a publication called The Chap?

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Hands off, Mr B, this is my Captain Fawcett prize and I won it fair and square

“I spent the train journey to and from work each day dreaming up ways of subtly nudging the chaps in the right direction, as I fiddled with my bowler hat nestled in my lap.

I started by leaving copies of The Chap in the communal lavatorial facilities”

It was clear I would have to get to work without delay.

I spent the train journey to and from work each day dreaming up ways of subtly nudging the chaps in the right direction. I started by leaving copies of The Chap in the communal lavatorial facilities. I bought a subscription to the magazine for one friend’s birthday present. I made casual observations about people’s hilarious dress sense or choice of tie and even resorted to blatant, less subtle critiques after a few pints in the mess.

On the whole they were interested and amused and responded gladly, eager to learn. I showed them some of the things the magazine had taught me. Different tie knots, ways to pair said tie with top pocket silk, the best brand of shirt and where to buy them.

Brogues versus half brogues and Oxfords.

I even covered travel wear and how best to properly pack a suitcase. I was unsure as to whether I was having any effect. But gradually I saw tweeds appear in the band room.

He shrugged again. I pressed on; “It’s a rather splendid organ that aims to help chaps like you dress, er, appropriately”.

He nodded, shrugged again (I think he may have had an affliction) and strolled off.

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BAND SERGEANT MAJOR’S PERMITTED ITEMS: Shirts of either white or pale blue in colour.

Shoes of either brown or black.

Slacks or casual trousers of beige or dark blue.

Shorts in beige, navy blue or white and only with pockets and turn-ups.

Brigade tie (a blue, red, blue striped tie) to be worn at all times when travelling.

Suits: pinstripe, tweed or charcoal grey flannel.

Blazer.

Overcoat: dark blue or grey.

Sergeant Tim Garner relaxing off duty

The boot-wearing chap from day one had bought a pair of oxblood Brogues. Even the Director Of Music, probably feeling slightly uncomfortable, had sharpened his wardrobe up after seeking my advice. I was feeling, hesitantly, quite pleased at the progress on display.

A few months later, the band was due to fly to the US for a tour. We were gathered in the band room for a briefing by the Band Sergeant Major. Things like making sure we had our passports with us, that our suitcases were correctly labelled and that we were dressed, in his words ‘in a manner befitting a member of a Household Division Band’.

We were each given a little booklet that he had prepared. It contained emergency phone numbers, guidance on American laws and, at the bottom of the last page, a list of attire that was and was not permitted to be worn at any time. Under this list, as a final thought, the Band Sergeant Major had written:

FORBIDDEN ITEMS: Jeans (pantaloons de Nimes).

Any shirt of an orange, red or equally bright colour.

Black shirts.

T-shirts.

‘Bomber’ style jacket or any made of leather.

Baseball caps (unless attending an actual game).

Trainers of any sort (unless actually partaking in physical activity).

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Tim Garner reflects on the good work he did for the Band of the Scots Guards

“If in any doubt as to what is appropriate, please report to Musician Tim Garner”.

My heart swelled. I had only been a member of this illustrious band for a short time, but it was clear that my efforts were not going unnoticed. Photographs taken on that trip show a group of chaps well dressed and all the happier for it.

Blazers, well-tied ties and half brogues abound. I was satisfied. My work there was done.

Throughout my career of some 39 years, I have seen many changes. Many were less than ideal, but I like to think that the ones I was involved in have led to members not just of my band but indeed other bands

and units I have mixed with enjoying a fuller, more meaningful sartorial existence. I have certainly received numerous compliments from strangers, either those serving or who are now veterans, thanking me for helping them grow in their turnout off parade.

I left the army about a year ago. At my leaving soirée, my efforts were acknowledged and the Colonel even thanked me for the help and guidance I had given him. After the event he approached me, bought me a drink and asked where I had learned so much about gentlemen’s dressing etiquette.

I hesitated for a second and then said, “Have you heard of a certain publication Sir? Let’s have a seat and I’ll tell you all about it”. n

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Photoshoot

THE CHASE Stanley Biggs Clothiers presents a short film inspired

by John Buchan’s 1915 novel The 39 Steps.

BY SOPHIE BAINBRIDGE ALL IMAGES BY HARRY RENTON PHOTOGRAPHY MODELS: ROB SALATHIEL, REBECA MIHAELA ILIE

J

ohn Buchan wrote The 39 Steps while he was bedbound from illness.

When turning the pages, you get a real sense of his desperate desire to get out and go on his own adventure while he was writing his first ‘shocker’.

Perhaps it is his hankering to escape that makes this novel so enduring and enticing for future generations. It is easy to forget that it was only in the 1950s that the world was introduced to 007 and his licence to kill. But long before James Bond, there was Richard Hannay.

In fact, Hannay appeared in four more novels. And then the adaptations came, with multiple films and plays produced over the decades. The first adaptation was by Alfred Hitchcock in 1935, setting the bar very high for future films. The play is one of the most enduring on the West End in recent decades,

and is still touring today. The 39 Steps is a truly timeless tale.

This isn’t the first time that this wonderful story has inspired the Stanley Biggs brand.

One of our early jumpers was named after the self-assured hero of The 39 Steps.

But launching one jumper wasn’t enough to quench our thirst for this story and its characters. Taking inspiration from the original pages and wonderful adaptations that have been made throughout the years, we have created our own unique short film: The Chase.

We are delighted to share an exclusive first look of The Chase to The Chap readership.

We join our hero after he has successfully evaded his pursuers. He has simply got to get away from them before it is too late.

Slipping into the waiting room at a railway station, this is when our hero meets his match… Miss Fisher.

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John Hannay slips into the railway station wearing a rather splendid jumper

The redoubtable Miss Fisher is ready for a peaceful journey with a good book

“I say, is that one of John Buchan’s penny shockers you’re reading, miss?”

Thinking he has evaded his would-be captors, Hannay leaves to board the next train, picking up a book that Miss Fisher has left behind. Fate forces our duo together once more, as they unknowingly board the same train. Neither of them are aware that the Shadowmen have seen them. Thinking they are consorting with each other, The Shadowmen decide they will have to take the girl as well as Hannay.

The unlikely duo are handcuffed together as they are driven Northwards to meet the head of the spy ring and their fate. But a fault with the car gives them an opportunity to escape and a chase ensues.

Will the adaptable duo be able to work together and evade capture?

The film has been on the wishlist for some time, but the first hurdle was to find the right Hannay. Our hearts were set on finding someone who would be faithful to the characters portrayed by Robert Donat and Kenneth More. When we found our man, Rob Salathiel, everything else seemed to fall into place. He knew a wonderful cinematographer (Charlie Ord, a huge Hitchcock fan) and then when we cast Rebeca Mihaela Ilie as Miss Fisher, the story could move to being written and finalised.

Locations were the next challenge to finalise for our ambitious ten-minute film.

When the possibility of filming at The Great Central Railway arose, we jumped at the chance. To be able to capture the excitement of the Steam era, and have our chase centred around multiple stations and locations, it really allowed us to pay homage to the main theme of the original story.

It was a pure delight to film both Quorn & Woodhouse and Loughborough Stations, and viewers will see they are well worth a visit, and only an hour from our little shop in Belper, outside Nottingham. We then filmed the car and foot chase around the stunning backdrop of the Midlands. In fact, because the weather chased us, we ended up filming across several counties.

The greatest adversary we had during filming was the weather

Without giving anything away, we also filmed at the wonderful Fox House in Haversage. Considering that our logo is a fox, it truly felt as though fate had played a hand with the production.

And in true Hitchcock fashion, the Director even makes a cameo appearance.

The short film truly has been a delight to create. Although it may seem strange that a clothing company makes a film where our clothing isn’t the focal point, and perhaps the

wrong way of going about things, we can’t help but think that this may just be the best way for our customers to view the clothing – in genuine and authentic circumstances.

We just hope that you aren’t handcuffed and being hunted down across the moors the next time you decide to wear one of our pieces!

To learn more about the film and to view The Biggs Collection, please head to our website www.stanleybiggs.co.uk n

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But we’re only here to admire the original fixtures and fittings of the station!

“Don’t worry darling, it’ll all be alright in the end, probably.”

“Come on, darling - they’re not matching bracelets you know.”

“Is that something in your eye, Hannay, or are you crying?”

“Shhh! If you tell everyone where I got this sweater, they’ll all want one.”

© Courtesy of the Sartoria Litrico Archive

Sartorial

SARTORIA LITRICO Lynn Florkiewicz explains how a chance meeting with famed Italian actor Rossano Brazzi launched a bespoke Italian fashion house

“Putting an amount of money aside each week, Angelo saved enough to buy a ticket for a front row seat at the huge opera house in Rome. To stand out from the crowd, he designed a tuxedo that he hoped would make people sit up and take notice. Rossano was seated nearby and noticed Angelo as soon as he arrived. More importantly, he was struck by the design and cut of the tuxedo” 84

Nathan Clark: preferred making perfect boots to wearing fitted jackets

The tuxedo ordered by Rossano Brazzi

Courtesy of the Sartoria Litrico Archive © www.sartorialitrico.it

Rossano Brazzi

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he Hollywood-on-the-Tiber movies began life in Rome during the early 1950s. La Dolce Vita burst onto the streets at the same time (Fellini’s controversial film would follow later.) Movie directors, quick to see Italy as an exotic and romantic location, based themselves at the Cinecitta Film Studios and A-listers descended in droves, in particular to the via Veneto, a wide sweeping avenue not far from the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps.

You couldn’t walk down this road without spotting celebrities: Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, Kirk Douglas, Sophia Loren, Gina Lollobrigida, Anna Magnani, Walter Chiari, Gregory Peck, James Stewart and many more, all frequented Harry’s Bar, Georgios, the Café de Paris and the numerous restaurants and clubs in between.

Two men were integral to La Dolce Vita: Rossano Brazzi and Angelo Litrico.

For most Italian women in the 1950s, Rossano Brazzi was the sexiest, most

debonair of actors; for most men, he epitomised elegance.

A proud Italian, Rossano came to international fame late in life. Already a successful actor on the Continent during the late thirties and forties, his international career didn’t take off until 1953 when Hollywood cast him as the quintessential Latin Lover, appearing in classic Hollywoodon-the-Tiber favourites Three Coins in a Fountain, The Barefoot Contessa and Summertime.

Along with the ‘cool’ vibe of the city came the fashions. Rossano owned over three hundred suits and rotated them frequently. To complement them, he had more than four hundred shirts, numerous ties, cufflinks and handmade shoes. Even his casual wear screamed style.

His preferred tailor was Angelo Litrico.

Unknown in the early 1950s, it was Rossano who introduced Angelo to the A-listers of La Dolce Vita, and what a rags-to-riches story that was. The Litrico fashion house (now named

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Angelo Litrico’s atelier

Sartoria Litrico) is still a family run business, and I spent a wonderful afternoon in the company of Angelo’s nephew, Luca, who now heads the company. Luca, himself a very elegant and debonair man, kindly explained the story of his uncle’s humble beginnings.

‘My Uncle Angelo was born in 1927 on the island of Sicily. He was the son of a fisherman and the eldest of twelve children.

My father, Franco, who took over the company when Angelo died in 1986, was the youngest of the twelve and there were twenty years between them.’

Angelo, Luca tells me, never married, preferring instead to focus on his driving ambition to become a tailor. In 1945, at the age of eighteen, Angelo moved from Sicily to Rome to begin work as an apprentice tailor. In 1951, he opened his own shop on the via Sicilia, just off via Veneto and close to the iconic Harry’s Bar. La Dolce Vita and Hollywood-on-the-Tiber were making their mark but, at that time, Angelo was

a complete unknown. He was poor, had relatively few customers and no real contacts to speak of.

‘In order to make a name for himself,’ Luca says, ‘he knew he had to attract those celebrities that were coming to Rome at that time. He needed high profile customers and, to do that, it was vital to be seen where those people were seen.’

Putting an amount of money aside each week, he saved enough to buy a ticket for a front row seat at the huge opera house in Rome. To stand out from the crowd, he designed a tuxedo that he hoped would make people sit up and take notice. Rossano was seated nearby and noticed Angelo as soon as he arrived. More importantly, he was struck by the design and cut of the tuxedo.

Luca continues: ‘My uncle went to the bar in the interval. And it was there that Rossano Brazzi came up to him. Rossano, along with everyone else, was in a black tuxedo and my uncle’s jacket was green

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Angelo Litrico, above right, and a page from one of his sketchbooks

© Courtesy of the Sartoria Litrico Archive

with black braiding. He asked my uncle, who is your tailor? Where is he located? My uncle was very scared; he did not let on that he was the tailor. He just said that it was a tailor located on via Sicilia. Well, not long after that Rossano, along with fellow actor Vittorio Gassman (Rossano’s rival in the Italian heartthrob stakes), searched for the tailor. When they found the shop, Rossano saw my uncle stitching and said, “You made that jacket?”. My uncle said that yes, he did.

And that was the start of it.’

Rossano ordered half a dozen suits there and then, including a replica of Angelo’s green tuxedo. He was fortunate never to change size during his life and that jacket stayed with him until his death.

Delighted with his purchase, he was quick to recommend this little backstreet tailor to his friends. Within months, Angelo had gone from an anonymous tailor with few prospects to having A-list celebrities on his books.

Angelo was catapulted into a global name

in 1957 when he made a coat for the Russian president at the time, Nikita Khrushchev.

Khrushchev was so pleased with the coat that he ordered additional items for his trip to America, where he was addressing the UN assembly. Reporters at the time were amazed to see such a well-dressed Russian leader and enquired about his tailor. Litrico’s name was mentioned in American newspapers and, when Angelo finally visited the USA he was himself the centre of attention.

Throughout the 50s and into the 60s, Angelo expanded his clientele. His reputation extended well beyond Italy and this small family firm were responsible for fitting such clients as John F Kennedy, Domenico Modugno, Yuri Gagarin, Omar Sharif, various Popes, Juan Peron, Tito, Dwight Eisenhower and senior royals including King Hussain of Jordan. One that really struck a chord with me was the Russian leader Mikhael Gorbachev.

I remember thinking how well dressed this

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man was at the time of his presidency and, during my tour of the Litrico archives, I discovered this was all down to the Litrico fashion house.

Luca tells me that as his uncle continued climbing the ladder of success; he was awarded a number of Italian Orders of Merit and began to give back where he could.

‘One customer, renowned heart surgeon Christiaan Barnard, became more than just a client. My Uncle Angelo was in a good position, financially, by the time they met and he paid for hundreds of children to travel to Cape Town for medical treatment

by Barnard.’

Angelo passed away on 13 March 1986 but the company continued to run successfully under the leadership of his brother Franco.

Luca joined the company as a teenager.

Litrico still operates as a family-run bespoke tailoring business, headed by Luca Litrico. Operating as Sartoria Litrico, they are renowned in Italy and throughout the world for their attention to detail, fabrics and stylistic evolution. The company is recognised today as the highest expression of Italian sartorial craftsmanship. Taking the company into the 21st century, Luca ensures that garments are cut and sewn by hand by personnel within Italy, using the highest quality fabrics from the best of Italian and English producers, 100% natural and sustainable. Sartoria Litrico remains bespoke and continues to cater for VIP customers around the world. They’re based in an exclusive suburb of Rome, not far from where Rossano used to live, with the entire historical archives within this atelier of men’s fashion.

Interestingly, after Rossano’s death in 1994, that green tuxedo he ordered back in the 1950s was given back to the Litrico fashion house by the Brazzi family. The Italian Ministry for Culture Museum in 2008 declared this, and all the Litrico Tailor’s shop’s historical archives, to be a “cultural asset of national importance”. It is a beautiful green jacket and one that does not look out

of place in the twenty-first century.

Rossano’s nephew Carlo remembers his uncle wearing a tuxedo to a function. ‘It was just a regular one: black suit, tie with a white shirt, but he radiated perfection.’

Glynis Johns, Rossano’s co-star in Loser Takes All, called him ‘the perfect example of sophistication and grooming.’ Actor and singer John Leyton, who worked with Rossano in the film Krakatoa: East of Java, recalls him being the most elegant man on the set, even when dressed casually.

The majority of establishments associated with La Dolce Vita have long since gone. Harry’s Bar remains, however, towards the end of the via Veneto near the Villa Borghese gardens. There’s even a photo of Rossano outside. Inside, the buzz of the traffic subsides and customers sit in wing-back chairs surrounded by mementos of the era. When I visited, piped Frank Sinatra was singing about how nice it was to go travelling. For just a moment, I glimpsed the era of elegance and sophistication that is sadly missing today. n Lynn Florkiewicz is the author of A Happy Man, the authorised biography of Rossano Brazzi

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“Our caps are made by hand” Our baker boys are handmade in Scotland by a family of expert craftsmen using premium British and Irish milled tweeds.

MODEL WEARING ‘THE FOX‘

AS WORN IN ‘THE GENTLEMEN’

THE VINNIE

THE PROHIBITION

WWW.CROWANDJESTER.CO.UK

THE DUBLIN

CHAP LIFE

BATHING WITH THE NAIADS

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THE LADY AND THE VAMP

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A BRIEF HISTORY OF FORTEAN TIMES

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BLUEBIRDS OVER THE MOUNTAIN

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Travel

BATHING WITH THE NAIADS Gustav Temple delves into Victorian style bathing at Ilfracombe on the north Devon coast

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“I came prepared at least to attempt some of Parker Jr’s aquatic feats, armed with a bottle of champagne, a Montecristo cigar and a loaded revolver. Failing to get these items past the lifeguard, I resolved to have a go at Parker’s underwater imitations of crab, porpoise, seal, octopus, torpedo ship and submarine”

ude gentlemen bathers taking a sneaky peek at the ladies bathing in an adjoining natural seaside pool, then a bugle sounding and the offending man being carted off by the Beak… if this sounds like modern-day Saudi Arabia, think again.

This scene would have been a frequent one during the mid-Victorian era in Devon.

The small seaside resort of Ilfracombe was transformed into a health spa in 1823, when hundreds of Welsh miners were employed to carve six tunnels linking the beach to three tidal pools they also constructed, two for the ladies and one for the gentlemen. To protect their modesty, the ladies were wheeled down to the pools in horse-drawn wooden bathing

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Professor H. Parker coaxes one of his pupils into the water

machines. They got changed inside the dark wooden cabin of the machine and were then dropped into the sea in their bathing costumes, the bathing machine blocking them from sight for anyone on the beach.

Outdoor bathing in England, even in Summer, is often not for the faint hearted, even if hauled to the sea in a wagon. So the people of Ilfracombe agreed that indoor bathing was required. Enter the wonderfully named Thomas Stabb, a surgeon from Torquay, who founded the Ilfracombe Sea Bathing Company in 1836. They erected a grand bath house on the seafront, fed from the Tunnels Beaches (as they were now named) and heated by a wood-fired boiler. Bathers swam in a labyrinth of small

enclosures beneath the house. The bath house was recently restored, and is now available as self-catering accommodation (for both ladies and gentlemen) with nine en-suite bedrooms.

Another important figure in the development of Ilfracombe was Professor H. Parker, award-winning swimmer and instructor. The Daily Telegraph reported that “Professor Parker, one of the foremost professors of ornamental swimming, gave an exceedingly neat and entertaining display of his accomplished skill.” Parker provided daily instruction at the Tunnels Baths at Ilfracombe for many years, before being succeeded by his son Harry Parker.

Harry, like his namesake Houdini, took natatorial skills to another level. His piece de

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By the 1920s, observation of the beach by gentlemen was permitted

resistance was escaping from handcuffs while underwater. To warm up, he performed a few less death-defying feats such as lighting a cigar while swimming, smoking and drinking champagne underwater, and shooting the cork from a wine bottle with a revolver, without breaking the glass.

On my recent visit, during the rather inclement end to the Autumn, I came prepared at least to attempt some of Parker Jr’s aquatic feats, armed with a bottle of champagne, a Montecristo cigar and a loaded revolver. Failing to get these items past the lifeguard, I resolved to have a go at Parker’s underwater imitations of crab, porpoise, seal, octopus, torpedo ship and submarine.

Much remains of Ilfracombe’s golden age of Victorian bathing. Five of the six tunnels are still usable, and the ladies’ tidal pool and part of the smallest pool survive. There was no

bugler to prevent me from entering the ladies’ pool… with a lady. Times may have changed for the better, but my lady companion did scan the beach for one of the wooden bathing machines, alas in vain.

If you entered Ilfracombe today by sea, you would be welcomed by a pregnant lady with her skin falling off, standing on a pile of legal books. Damien Hirst’s enormous sculpture ‘Verity’ has been on loan for twelve years now and it is difficult to imagine it belonging anywhere else. The artist lived in nearby Combe Martin for many years and bequeathed his tribute to motherhood, truth, justice and the reality of mortality to Ilfracombe, probably received with a mixture of gratitude and contempt by the local fishermen who have to look at it after a night catch on choppy water.

But we are not here for modern

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By the 2020s, you can do what you like on the beach

sculpture or choppy waters. We are here to bathe in calm water, Victorian style.

The infastructure of Tunnels Beaches has been lovingly maintained, a ticket booth separating it from the main town, whose leisure pursuits lean more towards the consumption of sweets and a flutter on the slot machines. A modest admittance fee grants ingress to the first of several tunnels adorned with facsimiles of the age of Harry Parker. Nobody in his day was desperate to plunge into the cold sea, so they had to be coaxed in with effusive propaganda about the health benefits of sea bathing.

It has taken nearly 200 years to sink in, for we, as devoted cold-water bathers, are already undoing our shoelaces on the concrete pathways that lead to the remaining tide pool.

The Ladies’ Pool is an impressive feat of Victorian construction, the poured concrete

barriers barely visible among the natural rock formation. The beach itself is shingle, thousands of flat grey stones mirroring the dramatic cliff walls surrounding the beach.

We timed our visit to hit low tide, when the Ladies’ Pool is full but not overflowing.

At high tide the walls disappear and one is at risk of being cut off from the incoming tide. The water is cold but not freezing, despite this being the last day of October.

A few other hardy bathers join us, but most of the other visitors are happy merely to dip their toes into Victoriana. It is impossible to imagine what the ghost of Harry Parker Jr would think, were he to manifest today in the scene of his natatorial feats of the 1800s. He might be impressed by the sight of bathers still enjoying the pool 200 years after it was built, but what would he think of ladies and gentlemen bathing together, with

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It is impossible to imagine what the ghost of Harry Parker Jr would think, were he to manifest today in the scene of his natatorial feats of the 1800s. He might be impressed by the sight of bathers still enjoying the pool 200 years after it was built, but what would he think of ladies and gentlemen bathing together, with only scraps of cotton to hide their modesty?

The Ladies’ Pool in the 21st century

The bathing machines in full swing. No peeking, chaps!

only scraps of cotton to hide their modesty?

He might have to shield his eyes and, like the fishermen being greeted by Verity in the harbour, confront vastly conflicting emotions.

Refreshed by our plunge into the past, we gathered our belongings and ventured into the town to see what Ilfracombe has to offer in the 21st century. While the grand architecture of its Victorian heyday looms behind the town, closer to the ground the sea-lashed awnings and faded shop fronts are more redolent of the 1970s. Harbour front eaterie Smugglers welcomed us into its red leather upholstered booths, the profusion of dangling fish kettles and copper cauldrons more reminiscent of Antwerp than Devon.

Our hotel, the Imperial on the sea front, has yet to embrace the age of digital door fobs and unstaffed reception desks. This refreshingly retrograde approach was

reflected in the dining room, with a cooked breakfast being brought to the table rather than dispensed from a self-service buffet.

Our final glimpse of the past had occurred upon retiring for the night, when entertainment was in full swing in the lounge. A crooner in a black suit was belting out hits by Matt Monro and the Everley Brothers to a roomful of white-haired octogenarians, one of whom was dressed in full Victorian witch costume. For this was Hallowe’en, night of the living dead, reminding us also that Joan Collins was educated at a nearby boarding school.

When, next morning, we saw the departing coach party’s zimmer frames and strollers all lined up in the foyer, we were reassured that the past keeps on going, hobbling along to eternity and keeping us connected to itself. Professor H Parker would have twirled his moustache with pleasure. n

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Today’s entrance to Tunnels Beaches is virtually unchanced since the 1800s

Style

The Lady and the Vamp Laura Foley casts her kohl-lined eyes back to the early days of the emergence of the vamp in popular culture

“Two or three years ago, vamps were vamps. When you saw one, it was the proper thing to gasp, “Isn’t she awful?” and say “My dear, I simply cannot understand how that woman ever…”

Extract from Photoplay Article, 1918

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Theda Bara

Anita Berber

Pola Negri

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t seems highly appropriate that, as I sit and write this article, I am adorned in the black lace I became quite accustomed to over the recent Hallowe’en period and that, just to the side of my notebook, glows a heavenly scented candle named ‘Seduction’.

Seduction you see, is the overriding theme of this piece, given that we will be peeping into the decadent life and style of Hollywood’s first Vamp woman, Theda Bara.

The Vamp woman is defined as an attractive, dangerously flirtatious woman who uses her charisma to charm men into doing whatever she wishes them to do for her. The term originates from the characterisation of the Vampire, alluding to the fact that these fatalistic women were the sort to suck out both blood and life force from any man with whom they came into contact. A vamp woman was abhorred in the early 1900s as one who dealt

“The studio was so intent on cultivating such a mystical allure surrounding the fictitious history of their new star that they implored her only ever to appear in public shrouded under a veil, thereby maintaining her air of exoticism and mystery. Theda was deemed the ideal woman to play the unabashed Femme Fatale role of Cleopatra” 102

STYLE TIPS FOR THE MODERN DAY VAMP CLOTHES Black, black and more black. This is the one and only shade for the Vampiric woman. Embrace it in lace, velvet and alluringly sheer textures.

MAKE UP Heavily lined, kohled and smoky eyes, from which to peer underneath with that languorous and slightly glazed and disinterested look that every femme fatale must exude.

Red lipstick, darling… what other colour would adorn the lips of a Vampire lady?

WALK Develop a slinky walk. This is very important for the woman who wishes seductively to slope up to her ‘victims’. It is her tool of attack that renders them completely helpless, as she slinks forward to devour her prey like a python.

SCENT The most intoxicating perfume you can find. This will be the one with all the most precious ingredients, probably hand picked by virgins in Oman at twilight on a Friday evening. I suggest Guerlain’s Mitsouko as the perfect scent that oozes slightly filthy carnality, worn by erotic novelist Anaïs Nin and Catherine Deneuve in Belle de Jour, while Sergei Diaghilev sprayed it liberally on the curtains of the Ballet Russe. Other possibilities include Tabu by Dana, created in 1931 to smell like a French brothel. Anything with spices, musks and Oriental flair will usually suffice.

within the occult, often adorned in ravishingly revealing robes, overtly steering their male counterparts to their doom.

The original and most famous Vamp woman was born in America in 1885 as Theodosia Goodman. Theodosia was discovered in 1914 by Fox Film Studios, who instantly recognised her languorous and bewitching demeanour. Swiftly renamed Theda Bara (a supposed anagram for ‘Arab Death’), her origins were recrafted to the back history of an Arab Princess born within the shadows of the Sphinx. The story continues to describe her as having been discovered and taken to Paris to train with the likes of Sarah Bernhardt, later to be rescued from war torn Europe and bought to the United States.

The studio was so intent on cultivating such a mystical allure surrounding the fictitious history of their new star that they

implored her only ever to appear in public shrouded under a veil, thereby maintaining her air of exoticism and mystery. Theda was deemed the ideal woman to play the unabashed femme fatale role of Cleopatra, and continued to be cast in all silent films that called for a sultry and seductive female lead. It is said that she received thousands of marriage proposals from adoring male fans and was considered the ultimate wanton woman, branded by some as ‘The Priestess of Sin’, ‘The Arch Torpedo of Domesticity’ and ‘The Wickedest of Women’. She was indeed Hollywood’s first sex symbol.

It may appear strange that such a woman was openly and synonymously linked with such eroticism and lascivious behaviour, given that today we are exposed to far more overt photographs of feminine eroticism; however, this was Edwardian America, and by the 1930s

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Rudolph Valentino and Natacha Rambova

the film studios had placed a ban on most of Theda’s films, deeming her revealing costumes highly inappropriate for public viewing.

Although Theda was the star whose name came to define the vamp figure, Hollywood continued to produce many other seductresses with which to lure and entrance their movie audiences. The idea of a woman who uses her erotic capital to get her all she wants may not go down so well with modern day society; however, up to this day actresses such as Theda along with Mae West, Marlene Dietrich, Rita Hayworth and of course Marilyn have proven to be an irresistible mainstay of film and celebrity cultures. It is no secret that sex sells and that a woman can hold an impressive power over man, should she wish to activate her feminine wiles for personal gain.

The Vamp characterization itself, by embodying a dark and gothic sexuality, bled through into twentieth century culture, inspiring the many incarnations that came later including the ultimate flapper girl, Clara Bow, with her helmet like sharp black bob, as well as the great Weimar dancer Anita Berber, known for colouring her lips in black and heavily charcoaling her eyes. Pola Negri with her dark Eastern European looks enchanted the likes of Charlie Chaplin and Rudolph Valentino;

the latter, having quite the taste for the more mystical woman, was married to dancer and costume designer Natacha Rambova, well known for her links to esoteric practices.

As the vogue for dark and fatalistic glamour progressed, we were also introduced to fictional characterisations of the Vamp, such as Irma Vep, Pandora played by Louise Brooks, Elvira, Morticia Addams, the brides of Bram Stoker’s Dracula and countless female characters in practically any Tim Burton movie. Eva Green and Helena Bonham Carter continue to offer us the most perfect representation of vampish qualities.

What is particularly intriguing about Theda is that she was crafted into the most beguiling of stars, yet this character was so far removed from her humble beginnings of a Jewish girl born in Victorian Cincinnati. It surely inspires the idea within some of us to curate an identity that equally enchants and intrigues. As a style coach, I enjoy guiding my clients to dream about all the possibilities that we have available to us as women, in terms of how we present ourselves. The fact is that, should we wish to craft a new, more otherworldly facet that elevates us into more extraordinary beings, there is nothing to prevent us. n

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SIX OF THE BEST

The top six vamps of history, including real and fictional LOUISE BROOKS (above) The Hollywood vamp who inspired a generation of black bob hairstyles in Pandora’s Box: “You’ll have to kill me to get rid of me.”

IRMA VEP Musidora as Irma Vep in Louis Feuillade’s silent movie Les Vampires (1915-1916) ELVIRA Cassandra Peterson in Elvira: Mistress of the Dark (1988): “It’s okay. My appearance is kind of a shock to everybody.”

MORTICIA ADDAMS Carolyn Jones as the ultimate Vamp wife: “Don’t torture yourself, Gomez. That’s my job.”

HELENA BONHAM CARTER As Marla Singer in Fight Club (1999): “It’s a bridesmaid’s dress.

Someone loved it intensely for one day, and then tossed it.

Like a Christmas tree.”

CATWOMAN Eartha Kitt in the 60s Batman TV series: “No Best Dressed list is complete without the Queen of Criminals, the Princess of Plunder.”

Media

A BRIEF HISTORY OF FORTEAN TIMES Ian Simmons, News Editor of Fortean Times, goes right back to the 1920s to chart the origins of the world’s weirdest magazine

“Fortean Times has expanded Fort’s ‘damned data’ remit to take in folklore, bizarre human behaviour and anomalous archaelogy, treating it all with a healthy amusement and a dose of scepticism. Their beat has been described as ‘science meets surrealism’ and ‘where reality goes fuzzy at the edges’ – ghosts, crop circles, strange deaths, odd crime and drunk, naked Florida women creating mayhem in golf carts” 106

A

“

The Book of the Damned, New Lands, Lo! and Wild Talents, derived from years of combing newspaper archives in the New York Public Library and the British Museum Reading Room for ‘damned data’. This was the stuff that seemed to defy accepted reality, yet had apparently happened – rains of meat, spontaneous human combustion, poltergeists, a green dog that walked up to a New York policeman, said “good morning” and vanished in a puff of smoke, sea monsters, strange disappearances (and appearances) and what we would now call UFOs. Fort, though, did not take sides when it came to interpretation; he did not believe anything without question, whether it was claims of weirdness or their debunking.

Fort believed in examining all claims and judging them on the evidence, and, when things defied explanation, came up with wonderful, speculative, tongue-in-cheek

naked man in a city street – the track of a horse in volcanic mud – the mystery of reindeer’s ears – a huge, black form, like a whale, in the sky, and it drips red drops as if attacked by celestial swordfishes – an appalling cherub appears in the sea – Confusions! Showers of frogs and blizzards of snails – gushes of periwinkles down from the sky – The preposterous, the grotesque, the incredible – and why, if I am going to tell of hundreds of these, is the quite ordinary so regarded?”

So wrote Charles Fort in the opening pages of his third book Lo! and it is as good a mission statement as any for Fortean Times, the leading magazine on the ‘World’s Weirdest News’, which takes its name from Fort and has been covering the weird stuff for over 50 years.

Charles Fort was a New York journalist and adventurer who published four extraordinary books between 1919 and 1932:

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solutions that he would hold lightly until better ones came along. It is this attitude that has informed Fortean Times and given it its longevity. The magazine has taken Fort’s ‘damned data’ and expanded the remit to take in folklore, bizarre human behaviour and anomalous archaeology, and treated all of it with a healthy amusement and a sense of scepticism. Their beat has been described as “science meets surrealism” and “where reality goes fuzzy at the edges” – ghosts, crop circles, strange deaths, odd crime and drunk, naked, Florida women creating mayhem in golf carts all have a place.

The roots of Fortean Times go back to Fort’s day. Far from being a fringe crank, Fort had many influential fans; the novelist Theodore Dreiser helped him get published, and later founded The Fortean Society in New York, which counted among its original members Dorothy Parker, Frank

Lloyd Wright, John Cowper Powys and Buckminster Fuller. The society published a magazine called Doubt, edited by Tiffany Thayer (a male Tiffany, confusingly) who, it eventually became clear, was a fringe crank, and who came to dominate the society, keeping it going after a fashion until his death in the late 1950s. The Fortean Society archive was then rescued by brothers Paul and Ron Willis, and they launched the International Fortean Organisation (INFO) in 1965, which produced The INFO Journal.

In the late 1960s, in the UK, a sci fi fan named Bob Rickard, studying product design at Birmingham Art College and publishing a small fanzine, came across a collected edition of Fort’s work at a sci fi convention and was hooked. He soon found INFO and their journal and started sending them stories clipped from British newspapers, but was disappointed that they didn’t use many of

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them. Speaking to the Willis brothers about this, he was encouraged to start his own Fortean magazine, and so Fortean Times was born, a self-published fanzine-style mag first appearing in November 1973, although until April 1976 it was known as The News, its name inspired by William Morris’ News from Nowhere. It appeared roughly bi-monthly and cost 35p. That first issue contained the seeds of everything that followed – kestrel attacks, a body kept for ten years, falling toads, the Tunguska explosion, a mass hysteria event at a school in Esher, curses, feral children and someone swallowing a fork, among other wonders.

Bob was soon joined in the Fortean Times endeavour by the modest and quietly influential Steve Moore, who had created the first comics fanzine Orpheus (he also invented the comics convention – a monster he later regretted turning loose) and went on to be Alan Moore’s mentor and partner in magick.

Alan, in turn, immortalised Steve in his book UnEarthings. Soon, Steve was helping to stuff envelopes, write addresses and generally making himself useful. He remained a stalwart of FT until he died, far too young, in April 2014, writing numerous pieces, helping at clipping sorts and being a formidable indexer. He also became a Fortean phenomenon in his own right, foretelling his end in his dream diary and appearing in his front garden waving to neighbours, at a time when he had definitely passed but his body had not yet been discovered.

Next, cartoonist Hunt Emerson came on board, creating a distinctive graphic style for the magazine and producing the Phenomenomix comic strip that continues to this day. Other early contributors and aficionados included John Michell, writer of influential UFO and earth mysteries books and a leading member of late 60s alternative culture, who seemed to know absolutely everyone who mattered, from William Burroughs to members of the royal family, and Ken Campbell. Known for his appearances in everything from Fawlty

Steve Moore

“Until April 1976 it was known as The News, its name inspired by William Morris’ News from Nowhere. That first issue contained the seeds of everything that followed – kestrel attacks, a body kept for ten years, falling toads from the sky, the Tunguska explosion, a mass hysteria event at a school in Esher, curses, feral children and someone swallowing a fork, among other wonders” 111

Towers to Derek Jarman films, as well as for his long duration plays, such as the eight-hour Illuminatus and 24-hour The Warp, Campbell had a reputation as a counterculture trickster and provocateur, and influenced everyone from Bob Hoskins to Bill Drummond, as well as inventing the ferrets-down-thetrousers trick. A long time Fort fan, he was instrumental in introducing two key people to FT, firstly his schoolfriend and fellow trickster Ion Will, who in turn brought Paul Sieveking into the fold.

Paul swiftly became as important to Fortean Times as Bob; he has a degree in anthropology from Cambridge and describes himself as having “been a student of extreme human behaviour since the glory days of the Situationists”. Paul spent many years as News Editor and continues to play a crucial role in the magazine. Ion Will’s relationship with FT was more problematic; he eventually fell

out with everyone, going off to Africa where he allegedly “lived with a tribe of Jehovah’s Witnesses while running a fax directory scam”. He later returned to the UK to set up what was described as “a voodoo temple” in south London. By the late 70s, the ‘Gang of Fort’ was complete, meeting regularly above the legendary Dark They Were and Golden Eyed comic shop in Soho’s St Anne’s Court to plot the magazine’s course and sort the news clippings sent in by readers. They had successfully helmed the small format independent ‘sporadical’ magazine into a much-loved UK countercultural niche, and there it might have remained, were it not for the success of Viz comic.

A new company, John Brown publishing, had picked up Viz and made a huge success of it, and was on the lookout for other magazines; one of the first beneficiaries of this was Fortean Times, which came on

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Current editor David Sutton

over as editor, and FT has moved to other publishers. But the world remains as strange as ever – Zimbabwe is suffering a goblin plague, fairies abducted a jogger in Ireland last year, and the US intelligence community has been gripped by ‘Havana Syndrome’ panic, involving alleged covert attacks with mysterious microwave weapons by unknown adversaries, while Florida residents can still be relied on to do incomprehensible things.

It hasn’t all been surrealism and quirkiness though. Over the years FT has been instrumental in countering various malicious conspiracy theories, and played a part in exposing the ‘Satanic Child Abuse’ panic in the 1990s, but as long as the world remains peculiar, Fortean Times will have a place, standing with magazines like The Chap and Private Eye as bastions of traditional print media, and they are looking forward to the next 50 years of weirdness. n

board in 1991. It swiftly moved to monthly publication and had newsstand distribution, so you could buy FT in WH Smith and corner newsagents, just in time for the mid90s X-Files boom, when Fortean weirdness briefly became mainstream. This boosted circulation to unimagined heights, allowing the magazine to run a popular series of UnConventions, which brought the cream of Fortean thinkers together with readers, and to sponsor an exhibition of Fortean objects at Croydon Clocktower museum.

The magazine also inspired the TV show Fortean TV, fronted by the irrepressible Rev. Lionel Fanthorpe, though the Gang of Fort weren’t directly involved in its production.

Since then, while X-Files mania has long since subsided and subscription numbers with it, the magazine still thrives and has a stalwart, dedicated readership. Bob Rickard retired in 2003, with David Sutton taking

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Transport

BLUEBIRDS OVER THE MOUNTAIN Actuarius visits the site of Donald Campbell’s deadly attempt to break the water speed record aboard Bluebird K7

L

ooking up the lake from Coniston village’s jetty on a grey day in October, I suddenly came to an intuitive understanding of the cold disinterest of nature for man. This realisation of our precarious existence within the forbidding environment was accentuated by the sparse signs of human activity in view: just a couple of hardy swimmers nearby and the National Trust’s steam launch ‘Gondola’ silently drifting past through subdued waves. Such brooding thoughts may have been triggered by the pilgrimage my companions and I had just

undertaken, a devotion to the activities on a less peaceful Coniston nearly 60 years ago.

For the beginning of this story you have to go even further back, to 21st March 1921, when Donald Campbell, son of multiple water and land speed record holder Malcolm, was born. Although his father was a strict disciplinarian, Donald clearly idolised Malcolm and, when he passed away in 1949, Donald had to buy the 1935 Land Speed Record Bluebird car and K4 boat from the estate. However, he did inherit the desire to break records along with the loyal help of his Dad’s legendary engineer, Leo Villa.

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Bluebird K7 – speed incarcate

“Despite these problems, Donald went for the return, but as Bluebird hurtled through the measured mile the nose gently began to lift and, as the rush of air hit her underside, their fates were sealed. A complete somersault ended with a nose dive into the lake.

Noise and high speed fury was instantly replaced by shocked silence” After some success with K4, it became apparent to Donald that, despite a radical reconfiguration and the introduction of a jet engine, she had come to the end of her active life. Enter Ken and Lew Norris, who were engaged to design a new boat and

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Standing not advised at speeds of 276mph on water

which emerged as the jet powered Bluebird K7. With beetle backed design, twin slim sponsons out front providing two of the three planing points (the third being at the tail) and chisel nose, she wasn’t exactly a looker. The odd proportions didn’t help, possibly an unavoidable side effect of the diminutive size allowed by having no propeller torque to react against or heavy piston engine to carry. An initial propensity to dive as soon as she was moving on the water resulted in raised forward sponson mounts connecting through new blistered fairings and a more bluff nose.

However, the best looking speed machines are often the fastest and Bluebird soon confirmed her aesthetic superiority by setting a new record at a whisker over 200 MPH in 1955. A career of gradual increases in speed and modifications in form would follow. By 1956, a blown canopy had replaced the awkward angled affair, perspex intake spray guards were added and the record stood at 225.63 MPH. 1958 saw raised pontoons, cleaning up the side profile, the deletion of the original massive pitot

tube mast and the addition of a vestigial fin. The record now stood at 248.62 MPH. In 1964 Donald uniquely set the land and water speed records in a single year at 403.1 MPH and 276.3 MPH respectively.

Although he always planned eventually to retire and run a speedboat company, it can only remain as speculation as to whether Donald could have walked away from the challenges and thrill of record breaking.

He was also driven by a passionate belief that this was a way to promote British engineering and technology. With his land speed record having almost immediately fallen to America, the final chapter of Donald and Bluebird K7’s exploits actually started with a car intended to exceed the speed of sound, schemed by the Norris brothers in 1965. A further water record was going to be needed to release funds for this, prompting a return to Coniston, scene of previous successful campaigns, on 1st November of that year.

Bluebird K7 was now 11 years old and needed a radical makeover, starting with swapping the Metropolitan-Vickers Beryl

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for a lighter and more powerful BristolSiddeley Orpheus. The most visible change came with the addition of a tail fin from a scrapped Folland Gnat aircraft to aid directional stability. This ultimate form for K7 with her new visual dynamic is, to my eyes, the most pleasing. There was now a smoothly transitioning form, a barely contained intent with every inch hinting at the ferocious performance waiting to be released. She was a man-made creature built to inhabit the rarefied extremes of ultimate speed and at last, by God, she looked it.

Finally, by any and all criteria, she truly was a thing of beauty.

With her new looks and a pressing schedule came new problems, the first being that K7 refused to get up on the planes.

This was eventually traced to the centre of gravity moving with the new engine, and modifications to the ballast were needed to get her up and running. Still the problems persisted, including fuel delivery issues, bird strikes, a damaged engine and poor weather. After two months of expectation, the press and public were losing interest and the stress was starting to show with Donald.

What is recognised as probably Bluebird’s fastest run occurred on Boxing Day in perfect conditions. True to the bad luck that dogged the attempt, this was a day when the Christmas break meant that the only witness was a lone hiker high up on the hill overlooking the lake. Thankfully he took a sequence of photos that allowed an estimate to be made of the maximum speed attained – over 300 MPH. By 4th January 1966, everyone had returned and the stage was set for the fateful last run. As normal, Bluebird accelerated initially on partial power to prevent water flooding the engine, and at 25 MPH the nose came up. It was only at 70 MPH that the tail started to plane and then she

Crossed flags indicated the nationality of the boat and the location of the run

accelerated “like a bullet out of a gun.” The first pass exhibited the usual tramping (a high frequency lifting and dropping of each sponson in turn) and an engine flame out at the end. Despite these problems Donald went for the return, but as Bluebird hurtled through the measured mile, the nose gently began to lift and, as the rush of air hit her underside, his fates was sealed.

A complete somersault ended with a nose dive into the lake. Noise and high speed fury was instantly replaced by shocked silence.

Some wreckage was retrieved, but the substantial remains of K7 and her heroic skipper were embraced by the impassive lake and hidden away in the cold depths from the now frantic search parties.

Bluebird K7 had been officially timed at 286 MPH back in 1956 with the old engine, and on the final run topped 300 MPH. It is worthy of note that only two boats have subsequently set faster records, with Spirit of Australia currently holding it at 317.6 MPH. A supersonic land speed record would have to wait until 1997 and Thrust SSC. n

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In memory of Carolyn, our Art Director's mother.

27th August 1948 - 5th November 2024.

Rest in Peace

BLUEBIRD K7 A Controversial Rebirth After her very public demise, Bluebird K7 was left undisturbed for 35 years, the closely guarded final resting place being known only to a few. Then amateur diver Bill Smith found her. Elements of the engine had corroded, but these were almost gone and deterioration of the hull and structure would soon accelerate.

Donald’s daughter Gina gave her blessing to a salvage operation, with certain conditions being met, one of these being the recovery of her father’s body. On 8th March 2001, Bluebird finally emerged from the lake, while Donald’s remains were located on 28th May. The rebuild of the boat was started, while Campbell was finally laid to rest in Coniston Cemetery.

August 2018 saw Bluebird K7 returned to the water on Loch Fad on the Isle of Bute, where a number of runs were made. Sadly, this would not prove to be the happy conclusion everyone expected.

The agreement was that, on completion of the shake down tests, the boat would move to the Ruskin Museum at Coniston and be occasionally run on the lake. The parties directly involved, however, disagreed on quite what this meant, and an increasingly acrimonious spat developed through the courts, media and on social media. All the while, Bluebird was effectively kept out of sight of the public, and things even reached the point where there were threats to hand her over minus all of the parts created for the restoration.

An agreement was eventually found and Bluebird returned to Coniston, its streets lined with enthusiasts, on 9th March 2024.

A couple of friends and I made our own pilgrimage there in October. The first stop was the Ruskin Museum, where the number of visitors on a grey, cold mid-week day illustrated the hold that Bluebird still has.

Inside, she sits complete except for engine, canopy and intake guards; not quite as she should be but very close. Still wearing pockmarks from her lengthy immersion and surrounded by artefacts that tell her and Donald’s complete story, this was an experience that needed a moment’s quiet contemplation to fully appreciate.

The return of Donald Campbell and Bluebird K7 from the depths brought closure for friends, family and enthusiasts. They now also provide focal points for acts of remembrance and encourage us to wonder at what can be achieved, by those who are both blessed and cursed with being unencumbered by fear.

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REVIEWS

INTERVIEW: ERNEST CAMILLERI

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BOOK REVIEWS

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Film

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ERNEST Ernest Camilleri was costume supervisor on the recent Netflix series Ripley, as well as on Rupert Everett’s masterpiece about Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince, in 2018. Francisco Giordanella quizzed him about working on both productions

Y

The costumes for the Americans were more cool, crisp and fashionable as opposed to the costumes worn by the crowds in Naples and Palermo and Atrani. Whereas for the crowds in Rome we gave them more of a city feel.

Was there a La Dolce Vita influence on the clothing styles worn by the expat Americans in Italy?

Was it more difficult choosing costumes because the series was filmed in black and white?

The director wished the series to be in black and white, whereas the studios wanted to have the option of colour. The designers Maurizio Millenotti and Gianni Casalnuovo were asked to eliminate all colour from the

ou were costume supervisor on the Netflix series Ripley starring Andrew Scott. Was the series set in a slightly different era to the 1999 Anthony Mingella film?

It was more or less the same era, the early sixties, but the Director Steve Zillian wanted to give a completely different feel to it, more like the feeling of film noir.

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Andrew Scott as Tom Ripley in Ripley

“The costume designers were asked to eliminate all colour from the costumes so we were only allowed to use black, white and various shades of grey. So practically speaking, even the series were shown in colour there would be no colour in the clothing. The only mention of colour is for the dressing gown”

costumes, so we were only allowed to use black, white and various shades of grey.

We had to opt for various textures to give a different feel. So practically speaking, even if the series were shown in colour, there would be no colour in the clothing. The only mention of colour is for the dressing gown.

What specific items of clothing did you use to differentiate between the old-money style of Dickie Greenleaf and the grifter style of Tom Ripley?

In the first episodes, Tom is dressed in leather jacket and common work clothes, whereas Dickie and Freddie are dressed in a simple and effortless chic style. As the

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Eliot Sumner as Freddie Miles in Ripley

series progresses, Tom starts shedding his old look and slowly starts copying Dickie, and by the end of the series we see that he has succeeded in inhabiting the chic look, especially when he is at his house in Venice.

How did you choose the dressing gown that Tom brings to Dickie from New York, which Tom’s friends immediately mock?

The dressing gown has a history of its own, as the director had a very precise idea of what he wanted. It had to be a way to show Tom’s taste and not Dickie’s.

We started by choosing fabrics and doing samples of the dressing gown. We had fabrics flown from various parts of the world and we ended up making over 30 different dressing gowns. In the end we had to make and print our own fabrics in various colours and paisley designs, until the right one was chosen.

“We also wanted differences to be made between Naples to Rome or Venice. The bigger the city, the more ‘modern’ the clothing, and it had to give more of a city vibe, whereas in the villages we had poorer and more worker looks”

The streets of Atrani and especially Palermo look remarkably empty

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Johnny Flynn as Dickie Greenleaf in Ripley

during street scenes. Was the series filmed during global lockdown?

The series was filmed after the lockdown but the lack of people in the streets is intentional. This does not mean that we did not have extras. Every day we dressed lots of extras, but in the end, it was a choice made by the director to leave the street backgrounds as empty as possible.

With the few extras you did use, was there a marked difference between the villagers of Atrani and the more stylish Romans?

There was no shortage of extras and yes, there was a difference in dressing the villagers and then the Romans. We also wanted differences to be made between Naples to Rome or Venice. The bigger the city, the more ‘modern’ the clothing, and it had to give more of a city vibe, whereas in the villages we had poorer and more worker looks.

How did you make up for the lack of extras – did that mean fewer costumes to design?

As explained in the previous question, we did dress lots and lots of extras and each person was dressed from head to toe in period costume. We had leather shoes, hats and jewellery made in the fashion of the period, to give it a more authentic feel.

You also were costume supervisor on Rupert Everett’s film the Happy Prince. How did it compare to Ripley?

The Happy Prince had a completely different approach to Ripley. Both are costume movies

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Colin Morgan and Rupert Everett in The Happy Prince

“It was challenging to show a progression of age, especially from a dandy to a pauper, and yet still leave a visible hint of the past. Apart from breaking down all the costumes, we also made them less structured and larger in size, so as to look more like clothes that do not belong to the character of Wilde”

corsets, padding and underskirts and you need to create the proper silhouette. Men, on the other hand, have cravats, hats and perfect hemlines for trousers. Dressing the cast and extras for The Happy Prince took hours and hours.

Was it difficult portraying the slightly fading aspect of Oscar Wilde’s clothing, having been such a dandy in his prime? How did you communicate this via his outfits?

It was challenging to show a progression of age, especially Oscar Wilde’s descent from a dandy to a pauper, and yet still leave a visible hint of the past. Apart from breaking down all the costumes, we also made them less structured and larger in size, so as to look more like clothes that do not belong to the character of Wilde.

but The Happy Prince had more complicated styling. In The Happy Prince, women have

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Rupert Everett, Emily Watson and Colin Firth in The Happy Prince

Did Rupert Everett himself have much influence on the costumes for The Happy Prince?

Rupert also had his vision of how he wanted Oscar Wilde. He trusted both costume designers for this movie, who also happened to be Maurizio and Gianni. Rupert had worked with them before so it was easier for them to understand each other.

Do you prefer costuming lowerkey characters like Ripley, or more flamboyant ones like Wilde?

Both are nice to work on and this is what’s exciting about movies, as one day you are researching and working on an 1890 era movie, and then a few months later you are in 1960, then back into Ancient Rome, and it goes on and on. There is never a dull moment. n

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Book Reviews

BOOK REVIEWS The books reviewed are all available from Chap Books www.thechap.co.uk

ELVIS, THE KING OF FASHION

many of his clothes from throughout his entire career.

There have been countless books about the King of rock ‘n’ roll, but never one about his role as the king of fashion.

If you’ve read all the other books and are hungry for some finer sartorial detail, this is the book for you. If you haven’t read a single book about Elvis, this one will work

(Pen and Sword Books, £22.00 www.pen-and-sword.co.uk)

By Lorraine Gibson

“After seeing him walk past – or, more often than not, stop and stare – several times, Bernard was intrigued. When the mysterious windowshopper next appeared, he opened his shop door and said, “Come on in young man,” to which the reticent youngster replied, “Mr Lansky, I don’t have any money – but one of these days I’m gonna come buy you out.”

My dad told him, “Young man, don’t buy me out, just buy from me”

T

hus begins a personal anecdote from the son of Bernard Lansky, owner of the menswear store where Elvis Presley bought

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too, for Lorraine Gibson has turned the story of Presley’s clothing style into the story of his life, weaving all the essential details about his childhood, career and untimely demise into the tale of his daring and provocative style choices, which grabbed attention from the first pair of pink peg trousers.

Lansky Bros, situated on Beale Street, Memphis when Elvis was a customer, has since relocated to the grand lobby of the nearby Peabody Hotel, where the gawky, teenaged Elvis once had a prom date with a girl called Regis (which already sounds like an early Elvis song).

Today, Lansky’s is still going strong and remains in the family. Hal Lansky, Bernard’s son, now runs it with his daughter Julie. Hal is now 72 and, during

the release of Baz Luhrmann’s 2022 film Elvis, was barraged with calls from journalists about Elvis style. Somehow Ms Gibson got a call through to him, persuading him not only to grant an interview about his father’s relationship with the King, but also to pen a foreword to this book.

Early Elvis outfits unfortunately do not come across truthfully in the mostly black and white photographs from the early fifties. What are missing are his bold choices of colour, in which, like most other things, he was a daring pioneer. While his school pals all dressed the same, in white T-shirts and blue jeans with crewcuts, Elvis would swagger in wearing a pink jacket and yellow trousers, his hair coiffed into a huge ducktail.

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Gibson tells us, ‘initially second-hand or homespun, then latterly from Lansky’s, where he then used to go the minute he got paid. In early 1950s conformist Memphian high school life, to say his look was a bold statement would be the ultimate understatement. Elvis’s schoolmates’ response was largely to ridicule and insult him, even to bully him, calling him a ‘weirdo’, a ‘cowpoke’, a ‘woman’, an ‘oddball’ … the list went on.”

Early photos, according to Gibson, also show that Elvis was ahead of his time not only in fashion: “Gender-neutral in his attitude towards dressing, long before the phrase was even invented, he was wearing stuff that flew right in the face of prescribed ‘male style’, and that earned him that early reputation of being a weirdo. He layered jewellery and wore soft pastel shades usually associated with womenswear; occasionally he used eye make-up and wore what looked like women’s blouses.

Lansky’s went on to make nearly all of the King’s iconic stagewear, but even they stopped short at the 1970s jewelstudded jumpsuits, although they did make a few of the earlier plain ones that he wore in the 1960s, before the big Las Vegas concerts. Hal Lansky is not a fan of seventies fashion: “You know, the seventies was a decade of fashion that I hope never comes back. All the black exploitation movies were out, like Shaft and Super Fly. All that dressing with the long, leather coats … We were probably the only store in America that had a full-time furrier putting mink collars and mink cuffs on things.

Yeah, I hope that never comes back.”

The author does not mention, during

Marty Lacker, who joined Elvis’s school in Memphis after moving from New York, was also a bit of an unconventional dresser: “One day, I saw this kid who dressed like I did. He’d wear … black pants with chartreuse pistol pockets and chartreuse saddle stitching down the sides of his legs.

And he’d wear a shiny black shirt or a pink one.

“He began wearing loud, patterned shirts and other unconventional clothes,’

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Book Reviews

her interview with Lansky, that Elvis was the proud owner of at least nine of those ‘Super Fly’ coats, including one made by IC Costumes, where a certain Bill Belew worked. Bill would also play a crucial role in the shaping of Elvis’s image in later years, by designing the stunning wardrobe for his 1968 NBC-TV Christmas Special TV show, now the stuff of showbiz legend and known as the ’68 Comeback Special.

For the start of his Vegas shows in 1969, Elvis called Bill Belew, requesting something that he could easily move around in. The result was a highly original, two-piece outfit, inspired by Elvis’s karate gis. In essence, it looked like a martial arts suit that had been crafted by a top fashion designer. Bill made versions in dark inkyblue, jet black and pure white, so that Elvis could alternate them. Even the trim panels and belt, embroidered to mimic the edging of a karate jacket, toned perfectly.

By 1974, Bill was being asked to put more colour into the King’s jumpsuits. Two of his favourites were the 1974 Arabian, resplendent with sky-blue panels and swirling, golden filigree threads; and the Mexican Sundial suit, also known as the Aztec and, jokingly, the Pizza. Decorated with Gene Doucette’s blazing artistry, it remains one of the most mythical of all Elvis’s outfits. It was based on the Mayan calendar, with two giant suns, one to cover his chest and another his back, like plates of armour.

Bill also created the ultimate matching accessory, a stunning, 4-inch deep, white leather belt with five oval panels depicting the Great Seal of the United States. A matching cloak reached the floor, for Elvis

to walk on stage wrapped inside it to the strains of Also Sprach Zarathustra.

But when it came to dressing Elvis for his coffin at the tender age of 44, it was Bernard Lansky to whom the family went back to dress the dead king. Bernard himself selected the pure-white Lansky suit and plain blue tie that Elvis would be buried in, far sooner than either of them could ever have predicted.

THE MAN WHO WAS PRIVATE WIDDLE (Faber & Faber)

By Roger Lewis

“

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H

awtrey was in a forthright epicene realm all of his own.

The more I watch him, the more I’m aware of the spell

raker.shop

RAKER MAKE CLOTHES FOR THE FORWARD-THINKING CHAP FROM FABRICS PRODUCED IN THE BRITISH ISLES

Book Reviews

of riot spreading inside him. I don’t mean his sword-fencing episodes in Carry On Don’t Lose Your Head or the way he pelts the police with fruit in Carry On Abroad, though he’s cherishably delinquent. I’m thinking of the way, whenever he is situated in a scene, that he’ll contrive to glance or stare into the camera; there’s a collusion as he pirouettes into place and gives his secret smile.”

Roger Lewis’ book on Charles Hawtrey would be more accurately described as a monograph. The author had previously penned weightier biographies of Laurence Olivier, Peter Sellers and Richard Burton, but chose to keep the volume slim for the camp Carry On star. The first section of the book, about Hawtrey’s career, is sadly rather short; but then, just as sadly, so is the second section, about his life.

The most tragic thing about Charles Hawtrey, as one discovers (and most things about him were tragic), was that after he left the Carry On franchise he still had years of potential as a character actor.

But his behaviour on the set of Carry on Abroad (1972) led to his being dropped from further filming by director Peter Rogers, thus blemishing Hawtrey’s reputation for further work. Author Roger Lewis does not pull any punches when it comes to the man at the helm of all the Carry Ons. He reputedly paid his stars peanuts, never increasing their salaries even after the series grew in popularity, and expected Hawtrey, Williams et al to come to the sets on public transport.

No wonder that Hawtrey, once ousted from his ten-year tenancy in the series, retreated to Deal on the Kent coast,

and this is where the second half of the biography takes place. Thirty years is a long time to spend in enforced retirement, and Hawtrey spent most of it in the pub.

His daily alcohol intake is described: “His average evening tippling comprised twoand-a-half bottles of port, a quantity of whisky and a pot of tea. He breakfasted on five double gin and vermouths.” And Lewis suggests that Hawtrey hadn’t waited until exile in Deal to embark on the heavy drinking: “Ravaged, pickled, tremulous, he was so soaked in jungle juice, dipsomania became part of the performance. Look at him in Carry on Cowboy, sucking at a whisky flask, finishing off glasses in the saloon, taking sly slugs of the firewater… How hard did he have to act?”

Lewis praises Hawtrey’s thespian skills, lamenting that he could have been a contender. “Why wasn’t Hawtrey at Chichester or in the Royal Shakespeare Company? He was born to play Sir Andrew Aguecheek; he was Sir Andrew Aguecheek, whose very walk was a jig, who delighted in masques and revels, who was a thin-faced knave… But it was not to be. Instead of appearing at Stratford or on the South Bank, Hawtrey spent the years of his Carry On fame, and after, touring in third-rate productions of Dick Whittington with the Patricia Comish Pantomime Babes.

This is a sad, futile and ultimately tragic tale, but Lewis, by telling it, at least allows us to remember Charles Hawtrey for just a little longer. He would undoubtedly be sitting up in his grave with a cheeky ‘Oh Hellooooooo!’ if he knew he hadn’t been forgotten.

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of construction of the silk plush with which top hats were made (covered in The Chap too). However, Steinberg also covers many aspects of hat wearing that have not been covered in The Chap, such as the banning of the fez in Turkey by Attaturk, Mussolini’s strange law regarding straw hats in Italy, and Sigmund Freud’s frequent nightmares about losing his hat. “‘The Stetson is part of the man’ was a slogan for years,” Steinberg tells us, “and here a man’s desire to keep his hat, and his identification with it, come together. Where your hat went, you were supposed to follow.

Hence the idiom of tossing your hat in the ring – once a sign that you were about to climb in after it to enter a boxing contest.”

Steinberg then informs us that in the very last speech Kennedy gave before his assassination, at Brooks Air Force Base in Texas, he alluded to this metaphor by telling the story of Irish writer Frank O’Connor, who, when scrumping with his friends as a child, would toss his hat over the wall of an orchard, forcing them to climb over the wall and retrieve it.

“This nation has tossed its cap over the wall of space, and we have no choice but to follow it… We will climb this wall with safety and speed – and we shall then explore the wonders on the other side.”

HATLESS JACK

By Neil Steinberg (Granta)

A

s has been documented often within these pages, John F Kennedy was the first US president to refuse the donning of a top hat at his inauguration ceremony, thus setting off a new era in sartorial America – the hatless era. For Jack was not only against hats of the top variety, but headwear on men in general. Neil Steinberg sets out to find out why, while looking at the broader decline in hat wearing in 1960s America.

He takes in the straw hat riots of 1922, also covered within these pages, and the strange history of the sudden ceasing

OUTLANDISH

By David Bramwell

A

uthor and host of the Catalyst Club David Bramwell has been giving talks about oddballs for most of his career, and now they are all united in one book. Outlandish

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Book Reviews

brings together all the weird travellers, treasure seekers, psychonauts and artists who have fascinated Bramwell, spinning their peculiar yarns into a frequently eyebrow-raising narrative.

Everyone recalls certain sketchy details of Kit Williams’ Masquerade project in the 1980s, but no-one is quite sure what happened in the end. Was the golden hare ever unearthed, and if so, wasn’t there some scandal around it, sort of ruining the whole project in one fell swoop? Reader, there was, but we are not here to spoil the ending. Bramwell has a way of telling a tale in print that reflects years of telling them to a live audience.

He doesn’t mince his words, and gets to the

OUT LAN DISH

point without rambling, yet sprinkling the narratives with details worthy of inclusion.

Some of the tales in this book, like that of Masquerade, may be familiar, while others, such as the eleven-year journey taken by Eva Peron’s coffin half way around the world, less so. Other folk’s odd journeys in the book include those of Werner Herzog, William Burroughs, Gram Parsons, Marina Abramovic and Andy Warhol, plus an artist couple who walked the Great Wall of China from opposite ends, then when they finally met in the middle, decided to break up. n

C O U N T E RC U LT U R A L HEROES & JOURNEYS

DAVID BRAMWELL

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CHAP MERCHANDISE This is still the official year of the Chap’s silver jubilee, and we still have suitable heirlooms to offer to mark this 25th anniversary.

One may purchase a splendid Silver Jubilee Tie and Pocket Square – although please don’t wear them at the same time. They are pictured together here for illustration purposes only.

We also have two pocket squares designed exclusively by Geoff Stocker, one in blue and one in red, with discreet decals alluding to our momentous quartercentury commemoration.

Those who wish to display their allegiance to anarcho-dandyism more discreetly may do so in the form of fragrance, either with Flaneur or Raffish eaux de cologne.

Finally, one may adorn one’s jacket lapel with a variety of metal badges, one of them specifically commemorating the silver jubilee.

Al l these products are ava ilab le fro m WWW.T HECHAP.CO.UK

and from our Shop ify sto re THECHAPMAG .MYS HO PIFY.COM

HALF PRICE SUBSCRIPTION PLUS FREE GIFT

WINTER 2023

ISSUE 118

RE OUT ING TO FIGU “I’M ALWAYS TRY WELL WITHOUT SS ION. HOW TO DRE MUCH ATTENT TOO G TIN ATTRAC ATROCIOUS ALLED BY THE AND I AM APP RING” USE TRO ’S STATE OF MEN

s an introduction to our publication, The Chap is inviting you to take out an annual subscription at HALF the usual rate, plus a FREE Silver Jubilee Lapel Badge.

FOUR ISSUES FOR ONLY £16.00 PLUS FREE GIFT £7.99

18>

MR B THE GENTLEMAN RHYMER

9 771749 966094

£7.99

JOE JACKSON

ISSUE 120

£7.99 ISSUE 119

ISSUE 121

£7.99

A

“I HAVE ABSOLUTELY LOVED, FROM AN EARLY AGE, DRACULA AND VAMPIRE S. OBVIOUSLY DEMONIC POWERS , BUT ALSO... CLOTHES! THEY GET TO BE SO DRAMATIC, AND SO SUAVE”

ISSUE 118

ZACK PINSENT

CLIVE OWEN

NOTED A PHILOSOPHER ONCE IMMORTALITY THAT PEOPLE LONG FOR S TO DO BUT RUN OUT OF THING ON A RAINY AFTERNOON

GOLDIE

KEITH MOON

HELEN MIRREN

DAVID NIVEN

THE COLONY ROOM

NORMAN ICK M PATRWISDO LEIGH FERMOR

GRAND FLANEUR WALK

ANDREW SCOTT

DRO BE

DRUIDRY JOHN THE CRAXTON SCREEN CAD

LESLIE CHARTERIS IAN FLEMING

ELVIS LINDSAY PRESLEY DUNCAN

, REFIN E YOU R WAR

CASANOVA

FORTEAN TIMES

ROSSANO DAVIDBRAZZI BOWIE

SILVER FOXES

INE YO UR MIN D, REF

BE UR WA RD RO

ISSUE 120

ISSUE 119

CHARLES HAWTREY

SILVER VIXENS

EXPAN D YO

2024 SUMMER/AUTUMN

DRO BE

SPRING 2024

EXPA

E YOU R WAR ND YOU R MIND , REFIN

EXPA ND YOU R MIND

YOUR WARDROBE

ISSUE 121 WINTER 2024

EXPAN D YOUR MIND, REFINE

I’M NOT A FAN OF NOSTA LGIA. WOULDN'T WE JUST LOVE THINGS TO BE THE WAY WE IMAGI NE THEY USED TO BE, BUT ACTUALLY WEREN’T?

Instead of the usual price of £32.00 for four issues per year, the recipient will become an annual Chap subscriber for just £16.00, precisely half the usual cost, which still includes free postage. The offer is available in the EU and elsewhere in the world with extra shipping costs.

The subscription can also be bought as a gift for someone else.

BECOME A SUBSCRIBER TO THE CHAP The above offer is available until 31/03/2025. Terms and Conditions apply.

Other subscription offers available: see www.thechap.co.uk for details

www.thechap.co.uk/subscribe use code GIFT25

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