The Chap Magazine celebrated its first decade of subversion with a grand Anarcho-Dandyist Ball at Conway Hall in Holborn on Saturday Night. A fine venue, and a beguiling evening, although the anarchism extended to the organisation of the cloakroom, which was somewhat trying when the memsahib and chum were attempting to collect their coats. Still, we must all make sacrifices for the Revolution.
One small sacrifice was that the bar-to-drinker ratio merely reflected normal standards, rather than providing massively enhanced capacity. This is folly given the large numbers of hardened cocktail drinkers present - the queues became very long at times, albeit impeccably dressed and beautifully mannered, of course.
The dress code referenced tweed revolutionaries, maoist fops, quasi-military dandies etc... and the Chap's readership responded with their usual gusto to the call. I saw, amongst other things, a gentleman in what appeared to be full and accurate Cossack uniform, a lady in a black Napoleonic Hussar uniform, complete with a French-style Shako at coquettish angle, white frogging and black leather overall britches. Any number of chaps were in evening dress, tails, tweeds and various uniforms, real and imaginary...and there was an abundance of ravishing ladies in cocktail frocks, evening dresses, sundry burlesque creations and a smattering of uniform. The memsahib looked particularly charmant in a houndstooth tweed two-piece of her own design with a tiny top hat at a rakish angle.
Whilst I am a supporter of The Chap, I have no connection with the people behind the magazine, or its offshoot, the New Sheridan Club, and it is all-too rarely that I am able to attend these sort of events. The cares of high public office and the affairs of the Springheel Estate are simply too burdensome. But one tries to show one's support when possible. Of course, if I did attend more often there is always the possibility that the events would be less attractive to everyone else.
But Old Springy enjoyed himself, and all in all, it was a splendid evening, and a rather interesting complement to Goodwood. They were as Night and day; Yin and Yang. The slightly obsessive authenticity of Goodwood, juxtaposed with the completely unfettered eccentricity of Saturday... I think what I particularly enjoyed about the event was that for once, just for once, I didn't feel out of place. Indeed, I felt something approaching what you earthlings must usually feel...normality. Most odd.
It would have been informative and entertaining to post some electro-dageurrotypes of the event, but of course this is not possible as I took none.
Indeed, I took no camera: it would have bagged the pockets of my Mao jacket and that, you will agree, would never do.
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5 comments:
Dear Springheel, your eloquent descriptions more than make up for the lack of photo-memories. So happy to hear you and the memsahib enjoyed yourselves. But the long bar lines? It's so difficult to get decent help these days.
It's interesting (to me) that your London venue was named after an American. I had never thought about how many London buildings were named after Americans but I would have to guess not many.
It sounds like it was a wonderful event. Amusing and entertaining as always.
Isn't Moncure Daniel Conway a splendid name? I wonder where "Moncure" originates?
Sir, a splendid evening indeed, more fun than a box of frogs! I confess I was that cossack, my own tribute to the heroes of the Kuban.
Genbrusilov - Zdrazvitye (and a belated Nazdraviye!) I salute you Sir. I was rather more Bolshevik in appearance, if not sympathies. It was a damn fine event though, eh?
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