The Public's Peacock, Part One, by Sir Frederick Chook
Penned upon the 17th of October, 2009
First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org)
First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org)
Among the fops and dandies of history, there have been more
than a few whose philosophy of life was, shall we say, a little conservative.
Brummell himself moved in the most elite circles – so select as he felt
justified in snubbing the Prince Regent, albeit with provocation – but he was a
down-to-earth man of the people against some of the clotheshorses who followed.
Gabriele d’Annunzio, for instance, was a fine fancy fellow, with a precisely
sculpted beard and a house full of art objects and tailored suits – products of
the same creative talent he dedicated to shaping the culture of Italian Fascism
within his own lifetime. Similarly, the Duke of Windsor (briefly King Edward
VIII,) who gave his name to the Windsor knot and the Prince of Wales check, was
(and remains) suspected of outright support for the Nazis – and was certainly
openly contemptuous of non-whites, communists, and, well, the usual underclass
targets.
Thankfully, it’s not all so depressing as that. Not everyone
who seeks beauty makes the connection to “the masses are ugly – they must be
controlled, or else cleansed!” Plenty of those who made a spectacle with their
style held no strong opinions, or kept them to themselves – the inestimably
dapper Fred Astaire, for instance, who never spoke publicly of anything more
consequential than golf. Others chose to – and I hope you’ll forgive if I wax a
trifle moral – find beauty in compassion, and washed their cloth with the milk
of human kindness. I’d hoped to showcase some of these individuals for you all,
over a series of FrillyShirt entries – to honour some fops who paired their
pizzazz with dedication to the cause of the castoffs of the world.
First and fopmost is Oscar Wilde himself, and with Oscar at
the head of the list, you might wonder why we need any others. Well, Oscar’s
case is a contested one, y’see. In his essays – particularly 1891′s The Soul of
Man under Socialism – he argues that a socialist society, in eliminating
poverty and inequality through the collective control of industry, would free
individuals from the mutual obligations of mastery and service, and allow them
to dedicate their energies to the cultivation of the self, to the “full
development of Life to its highest mode of perfection.” When property is held
by individuals, then some must always be seeking others to work for, and some
must always be seeking others to employ – always with the risk of ruin hanging
over. Were property held collectively, Oscar claims, and material security
guaranteed to all participants, then spiritual individualism could begin, and a
cultural uplifting of society.
Some readers take these tracts as entirely satirical – as
Wilde’s jolly “to hell with you” to the collectivists of his time, turning
their ideology on its ear. Not an unfair reading, but I cannot agree. Soul is
witty, but it doesn’t read as a satire – it takes care to distinguish itself
from other socialist arguments, not to associate itself with them, and it draws
on Christianity far more than on the prominent political writers of its day.
“He who would lead a Christ-like life,” he notes, “is he who is perfectly and
absolutely himself.” The “Christ-like” individual is a concept he returns to in
De Profundis, describing the anarcho-communist Prince Kropotkin, and locating
the same spirit in the works of William Morris, among others. I see no reason
not to consider this realisation of the self the ultimate end of Wilde’s
aestheticism – to see his artistic and dress reform as part of a social reform,
to see that “what is true about Art is true about Life.” In short, there need
be nothing selfish about living exactly as one wishes – in being foppish, in
manifesting and developing one’s ideals in all of one’s life – for one is
simply tracking the same path that one would hope to give others the freedom –
and, more importantly, the opportunity – to follow.
Incidentally, I should mention more of William Morris while
he’s fresh in my mind. While in his person he wore the common Marxist look –
big beard, simple suits – his immense contributions to art and design were
matched by those to socialist culture. His Chants for Socialists was the
definitive labour songbook until the era of the Wobblies – and there’s no shame
in being overtaken by their songwriting skills, to be sure! At the same time,
too, I feel the Arts & Crafts virtue of “truth to materials” holds as true
in dress as it does in craft or architecture – one should never forget the material
natures of cloth and of the body. Dress, more than most any other art, serves
material needs – it cannot be abstracted without being destroyed.
Well, that’s a solid enough start in 19th-century
aestheticism! I’ve a surprisingly long list of candidates, but I think I shall
next turn to some political fops who were able to put their ideas into practice
from the highest offices. Part two, coming soon!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sir
Frederick Chook is a foppish, transcendentalistic historian who lives variously
by his wits, hand to mouth, la vie bohème, and in Melbourne with his wife, Lady
Tanah Merah.
When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”
FrillyShirt is a
compilation of articles, essays, reviews, photographs, artworks,
question-and-answers, promotions, travelogues, diatribes, spirit journeys,
cartoons, ululations and celebrations by Sir Frederick, his friends and
contributing readers. Irregularly regular features include Teacup in a Storm,
an etiquette column, and How to be Lovely, advanced speculations on the
aesthetics of the self.
Other topics that pop
up include fun things in and around Melbourne, art, nature, history, politics
and schnauzers. Sir Frederick’s favorite color is all of them. Enjoy his
writing? Drop him a telegram at fredchook@frillyshirt.org.
When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”
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