[7] The author of this much-quoted phrase was said to have been an Eton boy, but I have been unable to trace his name or subsequent career.
[FASHION IN DRESS]
From the very earliest times the evolution of dress has been governed by two contending principles—Protection and Decoration; and the student of "primitive culture" will find these principles asserting themselves even in our own highly sophisticated times. One need not be an expert in psycho-analysis to trace in modern fashions the survival of the primitive instinct of decoration or the conflict between the irrational and the rational selves which is writ large in the annals of Mode. Profoundly conscious of my own incompetence to deal adequately with this fascinating and momentous subject, I nevertheless venture to submit that Laxity is the outstanding feature or "note" of the period now under review. It is an ambiguous term, but none the less suitable on that account, for laxity in its original sense implies a looseness which conduces to comfort, while, in its later and ethical use, it stands for irregularity, extravagance and eccentricity. Both meanings are richly exemplified in the fashions which prevailed in the years 1892-1914; but it must be admitted that, on the score of a wise laxity, man was more "rational" than woman in endeavouring to reconcile the claims of comfort and adornment. Women's dress is far more various, interesting, amusing and even exciting, but on the principle that one should keep one's cake for the end, I prefer to begin with the mere bread-and-butter of male costume. Punch, as my readers may remember, had in his earlier days inveighed against the rigidity and discomfort of men's dress, the tyranny of the top-hat and the strangulation of tight-fitting collars. In middle age, we find him more of a stickler for propriety of costume. Thus in 1893 he describes, with affected amazement, the strange garb adopted by fashionable young men for their morning exercise in the Park between nine and eleven—a straw hat worn on the back of the head, an unbuttoned coat, no waistcoat and flannel trousers. Simultaneously one of his artists depicts the strange and casual attire of M.P.s in the House of Commons in August—tweeds and knickerbockers, sombreros, caps, and even blazers. Yet, with an inconsistency which did credit to his humane instincts, Punch, at the close of the same year, assails the high stiff collar worn by young men of fashion and refrains, in 1894, from any serious comment on an article in the Scotsman on the laxity of costume characteristic of modern Oxford. "Straw hats and brown boots appear to abound everywhere," while "bowlers" were gradually discarded. When the centenary of the top-hat arrived in 1897, Punch suggested that its abolition would be a suitable way of celebrating the year of Jubilee. But the "top-hat" had its defenders as well as detractors, and the "pros" and "cons" of the correspondence in The Times are admirably summed up in Punch's article:—
It would be advisable, or inadvisable, as the case may be, to abolish It in the Jubilee Year.
Because all the scarecrows in the country are already fitted.
Because It is the hall-mark of human dignity, and, combined with a smile, is sufficient by Itself, without any other costume, to stamp the wearer as one of Nature's Noblemen, whether he be a Missing Link or a King of the Cannibal Islands.
Because It is indispensable, as part of the stock-in-trade of conjurers, for the production of live rabbits, pots of flowers, interminable knotted handkerchiefs, and other useful and necessary articles.
Because no Harrow boy is happy till he gets It.
Because It is a decided protection in a street fight, or when you fall out hunting or coming home late from the Club.
Because It only needs to be carefully sat on to make an excellent and noiseless substitute for the concertina.
Because no self-respecting Guy, Bridegroom, or 'Bus-driver is ever seen without one.
Because It is a very effective counterpart of the Matinée hat at Lord's, and similar gatherings.
Because, to be at all in the fashion, and to look decently dressed, you require a fresh one every day. This is good for the trade.
Because It stimulates the manufacture of umbrellas, eye-glasses, hansom-cabs, frock-coats, hair-restorers, and forcible language.
Because no one has yet ventured to wear It on the all-prevalent bicycle.
Because no statue has ever had the face to sport It, with very few deplorable exceptions.
Because It is really the most becoming headgear hitherto devised.
Because It is really the most unbecoming headgear hitherto devised.
Because, after a hundred years, it is time we had a change.
Because, when a thing has been running for a century, it is a pity to abolish It.
Because, if It is abolished, the custom of raising It to ladies will perish as well, and there will follow the Extinction of Manners for Men, the Decadence of Church Parade, the General Cutting of Acquaintances, the re-introduction of Thumb-biting, Nose-pulling, Duelling, and Civil War, the disappearance of Great Britain as a first-class Power, the establishment of a Reign of Terror, and much inconvenience.
Because I have recently purchased an Extra Special Loyal and Up-to-Date Jubilee Tile, which I hope to wave, throw up, and generally smash and sacrifice on the Great Occasion.
But that is not another story.
Fashions in Hats
Punch had already referred to Its disuse on the cricket field. The mention of statues in top-hats is not an effort of imagination: Dr. Grigor, to whom Nairn owes so much of its popularity as a health resort, is thus attired in the stone effigy of him which stands in the centre of the town. The tall hat, though now seldom seen except at weddings and funerals, has survived its centenary; but new fashions in headgear date from 1897, when Punch's "Stifled Stockbroker" rejoices, when the thermometer stood at ninety in the shade, in the relief afforded by his Panama and Pyjamas.
The appearance of the Homburg Hat is chronicled in 1900, but not in a complimentary manner. "Bertie's new hat," according to a satirical young lady, "looks as though somebody had begun excavating to find his brains, and had given it up in despair." There was another heat wave this year, and Punch notices that straw hats were worn at Sandown, while the horses in Paris were "wearing straw bonnets to protect them from the heat," a practice adopted in subsequent years in London. The "boom" in sandals in 1901 belongs more to Hygiene than to Fashion, but, if Punch is to be believed, it was not confined to health cranks and children; and in the Sapphic stanza of Canning's "Needy Knife-grinder" he gives voice to the indignant protest of the London shoeblack. Another sartorial centenary, that of trousers, fell in the year 1902, but Punch's appeal to the poets to celebrate it in song remained unanswered. Meanwhile a young peer was credited by a society journal with the intention of forming a League in order to differentiate men's evening dress from that of a waiter, but Punch failed to see in the venture any sign of noblesse oblige. By 1902 the Panama Hat had been vulgarized by 'Appy 'Arry; and a year later Punch speaks of "the late Panamania." It had gone out of fashion in New York, being superseded by the ordinary stiff straw hat, and Punch anticipated that the "slump" would also cross the Atlantic.
