High life
The end of elegance
Taki
Gstaad History makes clear that societies which embrace casual dress policies do not fare well. The downfall of many civilisa- tions was due not to overpopulation or dis- ease but to the fact that neighbouring peoples took offence at their scandalous loin-cloth habit.
The Mykonian era came to a bad end because of the Mykonians' propensity to wear only their underwear. Ditto the Aztec and Sumerian. The chaos, disease and vio- lence of the Dark Ages in Europe are now believed to have sprung from the common use of a kind of sleeveless tunic that exposed peoples' arms, and frequently their midriffs as well. The American Indians vanished when Geronimo, Chief Sitting Bull and Pocahontas took most of it off.
Having just completed a research period in Athens, I can reveal that my fellow Athenians feared Socrates not so much for his revolutionary ideas as for his casual linen togas. Old Soc was known for letting it all hang out. He also had absolutely no fashion sense. One of his political oppo- nents went so far as to call him an 'Atheni- an version of Nan Kempner'.
Nobody put it better than Mark Twain. `Clothes make the man,' said the Mississip- pi sage. Sir Winston Churchill once wrote that 'naked people have little or no influ- ence in society'. My hero, Papa Heming- way, would have received the Nobel earlier but for his frequent use of 'outdoors' attire.
I could go on and on. Casual dress has always shown itself to be one of the great threats to good order and decorum. Those grotesque hippies, amongst whom Bill Clinton hid from the draft, not only lacked social graces, they were also damn casual. Too casual for any civilised person. The greatest man in the last part of this most casual of centuries, General Pinochet, is the sharpest of dressers.
Pinochet saved Chile from Allende's socialism and went on to build the Chilean economic miracle while wearing that beau- tiful white military uniform of his with those flared breeches and boots. Fidel Cas- tro, on the other hand, a slob dresser in his ghastly fatigues, ruined his country, impris- oned most of his fellow Cubans and ended up being loved only by Hollywood types. The latter are not only perverse degener- ates, they are also talentless as well as extremely casual dressers. The Queen of Hollywood, one David Geffen, wears train- ers and a T-shirt with his dinner jacket, extolling gay power.
Hollywood went bad as soon as those mythically disgusting but talented Mittel- Europeans died out and the viciously promiscuous and casually dressed gays took over. They now call themselves America's cultural elite, an elite that has an enormous contempt for those who consume their cul- ture. Need one say more than Barbra Streisand and Bill Clinton?
All this came to mind when I saw pic- tures of what passes for yachting on the Cote d'Azur last week. No, I do not mean D&D. I mean Liam Gallagher and his mot- ley band of low-lifes. Gallagher is to yacht- ing what Bob Geldof is to cleanliness and sartorial elegance. Never have I seen such pure filth. His boat, needless to say, was representative of the slob. The hacks referred to it as a yacht, but in reality it was an ugly cabin cruiser with rust spots in the bow. Oy veh! I wouldn't cruise on a boat like that even with Ava Gardner.
Gallagher threw his beer bottle in the sea, gave his signatory V-sign and managed to lower the tone of the French Riviera an unheard-of accomplishment nowadays. Although his antics amused the great unwashed and kept the hacks busy, it was a very sad spectacle. The once-fabled land of F. Scott Fitzgerald and the Murphys is now Gallagher territory. With the growth of wealth, freedom and equality has come an explosion of lousy behaviour, drugs and vulgarity. It is the end of elegance. Like the end of British colonial rule, good manners and graceful living have been replaced by yobbo culture. Gallagher and the Cote d'Azur deserve each other.
Jeffrey Bernard will return next week
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