First of all, a big cheery hello to you all. I have missed you so. This being such an addiction and all that thrown into the miss-you mixture.
It was bank holiday and our itchy feet took us north into Yorkshire, into heart of the green dales which you have been introduced to in my posts Up and Down the Yorkshire Dales and Crackpot Hall on the Dales. Three days of walking did wonders for our souls. There’s nothing like a spot of walking, meeting strangers, exchanging random notes – often about furry mates because the Englishman and his dog shall not be parted – then sitting in a pub with a pint and a hefty plate of roast meat or pie with a fire crackling in the backdrop.
Now when Adi sits down with a plate of lamb leg and Yorkshire pud in front of him, I make him squirm. ‘Imagine the lamb you have been cooing to. You petted his tiny woolly head at Ed’s (the farmer we stayed with in Cornwall) and he looked at you with those trusting pretty eyes. And then bam, here you are, sinking your teeth into him.’
Adi has decided to give up lamb. That is, he told me, after he finished his plate of lamb. Wily creature.
I shall do a post about it all later because there were hair-raising climbs thrown in too into this holiday. I survived them and sit here clacking away on Bertie (my Macbook) and sometimes thunk heavens for normalcy.
But I thought I should share this wonderful little vintage Victorian catalogue from 1905 that appeared in our box from T.M. Lewin since my husband is a dedicated customer of the British gentleman’s dress shirt retailer. Just like he got it today, in 1905 the retailer sent its catalogues to customers all over the world.
Now cast your imagination back to a time, ladies and gentlemen, when men wore three-piece lounge suits, collars starched and in place, ties knotted perfectly and jackets narrow with small, high lapels. A bowler cap, and sometimes, a flat cap completed the picture. Young men had short hair and trimmed moustaches. Beards were not so popular with the young as is the trend with the natty young men of today. They were the realm of the older men to keep and preserve, thank you.
Do you know of the Regency dandy Beau Brummell? He used to be a fixture in my Georgette Heyer reads during the teenage years, so I was introduced to him quite young. I will not pontificate about him. The link between T.M. Lewin and Beau Brummell is that they both stand on Jermyn Street in London, home to resident shirtmakers of the likes of T.M. Lewin, Turnbull & Asser, Hawes & Curtis, Charles Tyrwhitt and a few traditional shoe- and boot-makers too. Apart from these ‘propah’ shops where you get everything a gentleman might want, from hats, shoes, shaving brushes and braces to collar stiffeners, stands dandy Beau in brass looking down his fine aquiline nose upon you. If you are not dressed well enough for him, he shall hang you by your breeches.
No breeches? Beau is gobsmacked.
Also there are a few pages from the catalogue with notes for the traveller of those days.
ARUNDHATI BASU 