Amongst many species, males display the more eye-catching exterior. The anole lizard, for instance, goes full fire engine to deter predators, mandrills (a form of primate) display bright colors to signify health, and big boy peacocks could put most rainbows to shame.
So why do humans with the Y-chromosome so assiduously avoid sartorial flash ? Wasn’t Jack Nicholson’s Joker (Heath Ledger OWNED the role.) the last dude spotted in lime green polka dots? And Honest Abe sure didn’t not sport a purple stovepipe at Gettysburg-nor did the reason for that have much to do with battlefield decorum or testosterone. And it’s the same reason Johhny Cash was never known as “The man in canary yellow.” Believe it or not, male clothing and color schemes still faithfully conform to the example of an 18th century slacker. And he was a dandy. Quite literally.
An appearance-obsessed lifestyle first practiced in the time of Napolean, “dandyism” merely required a small fortune to clothe oneself, impeccable taste in doing so, an insouciant attitude toward the surrounding world, and, of course, a languid stroll down the “boulevard” each day-but never (and this was a biggie) before 1:00 pm. To be seen before then might, presumably, imply (King George, forbid) an eagerness considered toxic by a dandy. Beau Brummell may not have invented this brand of narcissism, but he did elevate it to an art form.
Born to modest circumstances, the social-climbing Brummell did his boulevard strutting in turn-of-the-century London under the beguiled patronage of then-Regent, but, more significantly, future potentate George IV. But that was well after having charmed his way into prestigious Oriel University, where the trend-setting teen began revamping conventional attire.
Possessing no desire to resemble a pampered 8-year-old (well, except for the pampered part) fan of figgy pudding, Brummell first jettisoned knee breeches and directed his tailor to devise modern trousers. If not for him, we’d all be wearing baseball pants-complete with ridiculous stockings rising halfway up the leg. Brummell ditched those, too.
Less than devoted to studies, the burgeoning arbiter of fashion would soon abandon school and swagger his way into the army, where a singular charisma propelled him to an officer’s rank completely unmerited. Except in terms of attire. Despite, reportedly, missing role calls, going AWOL from his post, and generally lazing about in a decidedly non-military manner, “Captain” Brummell, (derisively referred to by fellow soldiers as “England’s first gentleman”) you can bet, at least looked good in uniform.
But never overtly flashy. Eschewing ostentation, Beau Brummell managed to stand out AND blend in without appearing to try. Comfortable garments and low-key colors in his case exuded confidence and style. A touch of bling, perhaps a well-tied cravat with gold clasp, topped off the soon widely emulated look. Brummell was cool before cool even existed. He changed how men dress.
But being a cool man in Regency England did not come cheaply, or at an economy of time. When once asked for what amount a fellow Englishman might expect to attire himself suitably, elitist Brummell opined that the task “might be managed for about 800 pounds”-some 15 times a common man’s annual wages. The icon himself, never NOT well attired, was said to spend five full hours each day just preparing to leave his premises. Such fastidious devotion, in fact, so enthralled certain noblemen that they sometimes would spectate the entire laborious process. He probably could have sold tickets.
But not all of that time involved the act of dressing. Brummell also popularized bathing (hopefully, absent onlookers) and the daily cleansing of teeth-grooming rituals now practiced religiously, but before his example, sporadically at best.
Such was the influence of a mere non-royal whose transformative modeling of tamped down fashion spearheaded what is known as the “Great Renunciation,” a departure from flamboyant style and colors. A movement that yet defines how men dress-some 200 years later.
Inevitably, perhaps, given his abrasive wit and an arrogance born of being fawned over, Brummell fell from favor with the crown. And thus began a precipitous slide that would end with him sick, broke, and self-exiled to avoid debtor’s jail. He would die at 61, in 1840.
But his influence on male fashion endures. So, the next time you feel comfortable AND look good in functional, perfectly fitted clothing that conveys poise and self-assuredness- be it a simple gray hoodie or a quietly elegant brown business suit- thank Beau Brummell-the guy you emulate without even knowing it. He was, indeed, a dandy.
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