Wednesday 11 May 2011

Guest column: What the well-dressed schoolmaster is wearing

From time to time, dear readers, you will have the opportunity to absorb the thoughts of some of my acquaintances, on a range of topics. This time, my friend Didaktikos offers some advice on "What the well-dressed schoolmaster is wearing", for your entertainment and (ha!) education. Take it away...

"I am most grateful to The Sybarite for allowing me the space for this niche area of dress and good living. Schoolmastering is something which involves a certain amount of teaching, a substantial amount of sport, a significant number of weekends and evenings, and rivers of gin. You see those specimens in polyester and short-sleeved shirts? Teachers (or, more likely, learning facilitators), not schoolmasters.

For the teaching
This could vary depending on your age, position and location/tradition of school. The closer one gets to London, the more likely that a lounge suite will be the clothes justes for daily wear, especially for younger masters, Heads of Department and senior leadership team. One's best suit should be kept for important occasions, such as parents' meetings, ends of term, interviews and such like. The other(s) can be worn daily, although this will mean that they require constant repair (the same goes for shoes). Charcoal or navy is best, with a light stripe or maybe birdseye/houndstooth/Prince of Wales. Strenuously avoid light grey (just generally) and anything which makes you look like a pupil. A collection of suits will require the budget of a few promotions; alas for our monk-like poverty. Saturdays are different (often blazer/tweed) because of the fewer lessons and sports fixtures. Some colleagues wear linen suits in the summer term. Hmm… white makes you the man from Del Monte; blue may be forgivable (and smart), but only after half term.

When I am a Housemaster, I shall wear tweed.

Shirts and ties are vexed questions. Oddly enough, I've had better success at interview with neutral ties, rather than ones for a particular organisation or group. Having said that, it's very important that pupils recognise the ties of the major public schools, Oxbridge colleges, ancient universities, London clubs, the MCC, Hawks, etc. A nice selection of jolly and sober ties is always the key; one certainly shouldn't wear the same tie twice in a week. Equally, one shouldn't always wear the same tie with the same shirt. Keep them guessing. Cuff links should match in some way, but not as if they were bought together. For shirts, anything beyond plain, striped or checked does rather betoken an art master. I would wear cotton poplin (or sea-island), even with tweed, during the week. Flannel is more appropriate for the festival atmosphere that can overtake Saturdays.

I am rather louche on socks, but plain or hooped is safest. Bright, though. Children enjoy it.

There are the problems of waistcoats and hats. Waistcoats may well be worth it, especially during the winter months, but only for real suits or tweed. Instead of a waistcoat, a plain coloured slipover adds a welcome splash of colour and is good for the warmth, while still allowing the wearing of a jacket. Hats, again and alas, betoken the art master. Silk handkerchiefs are a matter of personal taste. If you doing any of this, don't do it once, get made fun of, then refuse to do it ever again. Either go for it or don't; be brave!

As for the shoes, bear in mind you are moulding the leaders of the future: black lace up Oxfords or brown brogues. Maybe suède in the summer.

For the sports
Unlike many of my friends, I rather like organised team sports. For the coaching and refereeing of these, sports kit is rather necessary. Many places give you a uniform kit; others don't and, especially for refereeing, the kit of your old school/ college/ university /club is the best. I tend to find this smarter than the uniform kit. For the managing of teams in matches, a solid tweed and chinos/moleskin are the best in the winter, with blazer and chinos/linen in the summer. To go with the winter sports (rugby, soccer, hockey), wellies, a tweed overcoat or quilted jacket, and a tweed cap are the appropriate accessories. For midweek fixtures, these can team a lounge suit in a strange marriage which says: 'I've just come from the classroom, but I would rather be shooting.' I'm not a cricketer, but I gather they have rather good stuff to wear, such as MCC ties and blazers; tennis requires a blazer, white chinos and a panama (the same goes for croquet, except with a boater). I don't have the first clue what rowers wear, nor am I particularly interested.

For formal occasions
Not enough at your school? Make them up.

'Of course the --------- society dinner is white tie, why shouldn't it be?'

'I'm Common Room social secretary and I say the dress code require two lines of braid on the trousers!'

There will normally be many black tie events, such as leavers' balls, House dinners, Common Room dinners, etc. The trick is to show that you know how to do it better than everyone else, while making them feel that they want to be you rather than want to kill you. Make sure you have a black evening waistcoat and patent lace-ups (or pumps, as The Sybarite would have it). Ethnic variations (trews) are particularly smart, but beware of kilts if there's a danger of more than usual intoxication. You can imagine why.

For Speech Day, I wear my Scottish formal day wear, otherwise your best suit will do. I would love to wear morning dress, but this contravenes the golden rule which follows…

Never blatantly outdress the Headmaster. Do it subtly.

For informal occasions
You can never have enough chinos or sports jackets. As above, slipovers are a smart winter piece. Unless it's the holidays and one might walk to the Porter's Lodge in dressing gown, I do think a certain decorum around the place is necessary. Take the time to change, dressing up or dressing down. It's boring wearing a lounge suit all day; equally, don't be one of those people who wears a tracksuit into Common Room.

Hopefully this may be of some guidance to those in my profession. It may even have tempted some of you into it…

Didaktikos"

Tuesday 10 May 2011

Cocktails in pubs?

I recently had brunch in a branch of Balans, which I generally find to be a perfectly acceptable bar for the occasional refreshment and relief from the trials of everyday life. I opted for the steak and eggs, laughing, as I tend to, in the face of cholesterol, and when I cast my eye over the drinks menu, I noticed a modest cocktail selection. Now – and this is something of a digression – I would normally say that cocktails are not to be taken with food, but I have a little weakness for a martini (or two) with steak, as it conjures up (for me, anyway) a glorious but lost world of Sixties America, in which Brylcreemed men in sharp suits lunched heroically. Watching Mad Men has the same effect on me.

But, as I say, I digress. I decided to give the martini a go, and asked the (very pleasant) waiter for “a very dry gin martini with a twist”. I suppose alarm bells should have begun to sound when he read the order back to me as “a martini with a twist”, but I was not in a suspicious mood and so let it pass without note. The drink, when it arrived, was, perhaps predictably, disappointing. So far from being “dry”, it must have been approaching equal measures of gin and vermouth, so lacking that bite and instant rush of warmth that a good martini can bring. In addition, while obviously shaken over ice, it was cool rather than cold. It came with a perfectly reasonable twist, it is true, but was generally rather dull and uninspiring, and not at all what I had wanted with my steak.

Yet I did not complain. There are two components here: the first is that, being British, I am very bad at complaining. When asked how something is, whether it be a meal, a haircut or a recent amputation, there is no force of nature which is sufficient to drive me to say anything but “Fine” or, if especially moved, “Lovely”. So I probably wouldn’t have complained if the martini had come in a dirty plastic glass with a side order of cat-sick. The second element, however, is that part of me thinks that maybe it was own fault. I ordered a cocktail in a run-of-the-mill bar/pub, and should have known I would be disappointed by the result.

So here, dear readers, is the central question. Should pedlars of intoxicating liquors be encouraged to impose on themselves a self-denying ordinance of sorts, and only offer cocktails if they can do them properly? On the face of it, this seems an odd thing for a cocktail proponent to say. Better, surely, that they are available as widely as possible, and I do find that a lot of bar staff are willing to take instruction if they look initially perplexed (though I remember the reaction of a Polish barman in an hotel in Donegal when I asked for a cardinal; after explaining it was red wine and crème de cassis, he looked at me and asked, sceptically, “You want in same glass?”). However, as often as not, there is not the opportunity to conduct an impromptu seminar, and instead you are brought something which is, frankly, just not what you wanted, even if it might, strictu sensu, be what you ordered.

This is, I realise, a pipe dream. No publican or bar manager is likely willingly to forgo a product which sells. And the sale of cocktails can give ambitious gastropubs what is, in their eyes, a veneer of additional sophistication. The more I think about it, though, the more it represents that trend in the modern world of seeking to be everything to everyone. If you go to a pub, you expect beer, wine and spirits. If you go to a wine bar, you expect wine, and do not be disappointed if their range of ales, for example, is limited. Likewise, if you want to enjoy a cocktail, go to a cocktail bar. This is not a rule I always follow myself – witness the attempted martini in Balans – but perhaps it should be behaviour we should seek to cultivate in ourselves. Then, perhaps, proprietors will get the message.

Monday 2 May 2011

The Sun has got his hat on - but not flip-flops

It seemed to me, dear readers, that the recent and welcomely-extended spell of warm weather offers a good opportunity to put before you a few thoughts on the attire of the average Briton at play when the sun is out. I admit, before voices of accusation and vituperation are raised against me, that this weather has been unexpected and unseasonable, and so many may have been caught unawares by the clement conditions - but not everything can be so excused.

We Britons are an odd lot (and, if I may say, we Scots the strangest of all). The slightest breath of sunshine instills in us a near-fanatical determination to sit outside, whether the conditions are favourable or not. And yet, despite this addiction to drinking or eating al fresco, we seem utterly unprepared for the contingency, and dress as if we have taken a running jump at our wardrobes and hoped for the best. (I include myself in this for reasons of proper British modesty, but, it will not surprise you to learn, have a better handle of what to wear that than.)

I do not wish to be too prescriptive. I am not in the business of laying down RULES (well, I am, but I will spare you for the moment. All I would ask, beg, implore, beseech of you (and this applies to ladies as well as gentlemen), is that you might cast your eye over a certain number of entreaties, and perhaps allow them to filter into your consciousness.

  1. Whether you are Cary Grant or Grant Mitchell, Audrey Hepburn or Audrey Roberts, I DO NOT want to see your feet. This means no flip-flops. At a push, wear them on the beach - I will likely not be there - but anywhere else they are beyond the Pale. Not just because they tend to stain the feet; not just because they induce a foot-dragging shuffle; not just because they expose the tender parts of true podiatral hygiene pirates; but mostly because the pulling-away of the sole from a sweaty foot creates a sucking noise which is the most horrific on God's green Earth. Just don't. There are myriad types of footwear available in the wide world - don't wear flip-flops.
  2. The simple fact of the sun shining does not necessarily mean that it is mandatory to expose every last square inch of pasty white flesh to all and sundry. Modesty and, let's face it, self-awareness have their place. Look at it this way. If you have second thoughts about what you're about to wear, there's probably a reason. And your third thought should be "Do you know, I think I won't". Chalky, pipe-cleaner legs, veiny thighs, bingo wings, mottled calves - none adds to the sum of human happiness. And, for (any?) female readers - if you believe yourself to have "alabaster" skin or a "pre-Raphaelite" look, that's all very well, but, really, summer is not your season.
  3. On a positive note, I do not hold with the view that shorts, for gentlemen, are unacceptable. Frankly, better a man wearing shorts than a man turning his trousers into an amusing test of how much sweat cotton can absorb. But, please, observe a few basic decencies. They should be mid-thigh, at least; they should be of a modest colour (to wear white shorts you have to be very, if you will forgive the phrase, ballsy); they should not be figure-hugging; and they should make some nod towards the rest of your outfit. (I saw a "gentleman" today who had found it amusing to team a linen jacket and a T-shirt with camouflage combat shorts and flip-flops. His continuing survival is a testament to my tolerance.)
  4. Wearing shoes without socks is a perfectly acceptable option when the weather turns warmer, but, again, just think of context. Deck shoes or plimsolls with bare ankles can look quite appropriate and, perhaps, even stylish, but brogues on bare feet will only induce nausea and feelings of vicarious discomfort. Those low-cut socks which sit inside shoes without revealing themselves are no sin, and may contribute to the sum of human happiness. Just think wisely, is all. No gentleman wants his interlocutor to inquire whether he has been to the cheesemongers, if, in fact, he has not.
  5. A final note on sunglasses (a subject to which I will return on another day). It is a mistake for a gentleman to assume, as so many do, that one pair of sunglasses will serve all his needs, all the time. It is no more likely to be true than assuming one pair of shoes would be adequate. The usual considerations of face-shape and the like apply, of course, but the style of sunglasses should match the style of the outfit. There are formal, semi-formal and casual styles, and any number of sub-styles thereinbetween. Just think about it, that's all.
Here endeth the lesson, for now. I hope you all enjoy the glorious weather, and long may it continue. But, if you have any ambition towards elegance, do not imagine that sunny weather is a get-out-of-jail-free card.