Isn’t it funny, odd, bizarre, whatever you wish to call it, how tastes change from one person to another and between ethnic groups and countries. What some people find attractive others find hideous, what some consider to be glamorous and trendy, others consider a potpourri of unadulterated rubbish.
The 18th century proverb states, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’, but in today’s consumer society, where millions of dollars are spent on creating, developing and marketing a potential ‘trend’, perhaps William Shakespeare’s phrase is more appropriate, ‘… beauty is bought by the judgement of the eye.’
Nowadays, glamour and beauty are not necessarily related to sartorial elegance and powdered bouffant hairdos, they depend on trends and trends depend on logos and, it appears, logos now apparently transcend both glamour and beauty. Shirts festooned with brand names, crocodiles and polo ponies play a major role in fashion and even dominate clothing, as does a designer’s ability to combine outlandishness with a minimum of fabric. The less cloth and the more torso, the higher the designer’s star rises in the firmament of haute couture … not to mention the price level. Visions of the nether region and skimpy underclothing are prized and audacious originality is rewarded by critical acclaim. Men’s low-cut hipster jeans with the crotch hanging between the wearer’s knees is à la mode, as is the vision of the elastic waistband on underpants that reveal at best the name of Calvin Klein, or at worst St. Michael. For the ladies, the skimpier the top and the more bra that dominates the landscape, the more plaudits it receives, especially if this is accompanied by low-cut jeans that reveal a t-shaped flash of thong and a glimpse, albeit small, of a dimpled buttock.
However, there is one modern trend which I admit to enjoying, the ‘intellectual’ T-shirt. This summer, apart from the abundance of the trite cigar chomping Che Guevara, the red blue and yellow Superman logo and the F-word emblazoned across both shapely and scrawny chests, I saw three T-shirts each with a dictum that appealed to my warped sense of humour: ‘Practise safe lunch … use a condiment’; ‘Non-practising virgin’; ‘If we weren’t supposed to eat animals, why were they made of meat?’
In stark contrast to the younger generation’s sartorial ambivalence and despite the 40° C temperature, a certain reassuring continuity could be found in the old town of Menton in the south of France: elderly men still sporting dark blue berets, with a baguette stuffed under their armpit and wearing heavy hard-wearing corduroy trousers hoisted to just below the chest and kept in place by braces (suspenders for our American readers) and a large leather belt. Ageing widows covered from head to foot in long black dresses and headscarves often could be seen hovering in close proximity with baskets of cheese and wine, more out of hope than expectancy.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking French fashion, how could I when the kilt is still popular in Scotland, sherwanis or turbans abound in India, Agbadas are still to be seen in Nigeria, long mustard-coloured duster coats remain ‘in’ in Australia, as do cowboy hats and boots in North America?
Dress codes have changed and conventional clothing is often passé. Cross-dressing is currently fashionable, men are wearing kaftans and knickers, women wear trousers and what looks like a coloured jock strap. Vive la difference!
Which reminds me ...
A very attractive lady returns to her mansion and, having forgotten her key, rings the doorbell. James, the butler, opens it and without so much as a nod or a thank you, the lady of the house goes directly to her room, closes the door and tugs on the bell pull.
A few moments later the butler gently knocks on the door, opens it and with all due servility says, “Yes Ma’am?”
“Come in James and close the door.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“James, take off my coat.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“James, take off my shoes.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“James, now take off my dress.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“And my bra and panties.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“And James…”
“Yes Ma’am?”
“If I ever catch you wearing them again …”

P.S. In order to avoid any legal disputes with Swiss watch manufacturers, James was not, and I repeat not, wearing a ladies’ watch.


Source: Europa Star October-November 2006 Magazine Issue