If people turn to look at you on the street, you are not well dressed, but either too stiff, too tight, or too fashionable." Beau Brummell
Beau Brummell, né George Bryan Brummell (b. June 7, 1778, London, England, d. March 30, 1840, Caen, France, age 62), was the arbiter of men's fashion in Regency England, and a friend of the Prince Regent, King George IV. It was Brummell who established the habit of men wearing understated, but fitted, beautifully cut clothes including dark suits, and full length trousers, adorned with an elaborately-knotted cravat. Brummell is credited with a style of dress know known as “dandyism”. Brummell was close to being a fashion radical. Remember this was an age where men were still wearing powdered wigs, high heels, and lavender satin knee britches. Beau Brummell is credited with introducing the modern man's suit, worn with a tie. Were it not for Brummell, we might still be dressing like Louis the Sun King. Beau Brummell may very well be the most noted figures in men's clothing…ever.
Fussy? So epitimous, the metro-sexual Brummell could take up to five hours to dress, and he often bathed, toileted, and dressed before an audience, (which is a little creepy) includeding in a psychologically significant reversal of court levee, the Prince himself, George IV, who acted as Brummell’s manservant handing him his toiletries. This strange reversal of roles suggests a kind of role-play more in accordance with master and slaves, regardless; it helped to create a mystique that still elicits arched eyebrows. Brummell had sophisticated satorial tastes, and elaborate dressing rituals, to wit he insisted that his boots be polished with champagne. ( I have yet to try that one.)
No one knows exactly where his sartorial sensibility was derived. Brummell adopted a minimalist, almost "modern" look, and became an icon, which convinced him that his less-is-more instincts were correct. He banished all frills and braid in favor of a severe cutaway overcoat or jacket in undecorated wool, a plain white linen shirt, and a simple waistcoat, (vest) the genesis of today's suit. For pants, he favored the skintight cavalry look, probably because he had perfect legs; it was said that he had the same proportions as the statue of the Apollo Belvedere then on exhibition in London. He may have wanted to flaunt certain other aspects of classical statuary because he decreed that pants must be unlined, and close on the side with a “fall” or “flap” instead of a center fly. (So Tom Ford was not the first “freeballer”.) Worn without underwear, his trousers left little to the imagination, prompting one hostess to say, "One can always tell what that young man is thinking."
He changed his clothes so often, especially his "linens," that his laundry bills were enormous. Refusing to let his washing be hung out to dry in sooty London, he sent it to be "country washed," i.e., to laundresses outside the city who could hang it in clean air. If clothes were clean, he reasoned, the body under them must also be. Unlike earlier peacock males who drenched themselves in perfume to hide their body odors, Brummell was almost neurotically fastidious. To the astonishment of his fashionable audience, he washed his entire body with hot water every day, and even brushed his teeth! As with everything else he did, this too became a fad. (It was the reality TV of its day.) So we have Brummell to thank for establishing the daily ritual of bathing, shaving, brushing your teeth and combing your hair that we take for granted.
His first innovation was the plain white linen "neck cloth" to replace the stiff "stock" that reached to the ears and looked like a surgical brace. This created a soft bow at the front. The neck cloth had to be tied in a certain way and it often took him an hour or more to get it exactly right. We may complain today that it’s difficult getting our ties to hang even with our waists, imagine that Brummell’s neckties ran up to four yards. One day some visitors saw his valet carrying a huge basket piled with white linen, and asked what it was, replied the valet, "These are our failures." There are pages of illustrations on the complicated sets of knots and bows that Brummell favored.
Adding to the fashion equation, George Bryan Brummell was the most famous, and romantically dashing young men of the Regency Period. He was tall, toned and physically fit. He was attractive, perhaps one of the most handsome men in England. He had naturally curly hair, that he curled more with a hot iron. He was fair complexioned, and had a high nose, which was later broken down by a kick from a horse soon after he went into military service, the order of the Tenth Dragoons. He was not a designer; but did take snuff from elegant little boxes he designed. He was the progenitor of what we today might call a celebrity. He became famous, just for being famous.
We know precious little about his childhood. He was not of aristocratic birth, but was drawn to the upper class life style. Brummell was the son of the private secretary of Lord North. Given his father's position, he must have been exposed to the aristocracy at an early age. In addition, his grandfather, who was a humble shopkeeper in St. James Parish, in order earn some extra money, would rent rooms and catered to aristocratic gentlemen, who further acquainted the young George Bryan to the aristocracy, and how they behaved and dressed. Apparently, for some he reason even as a boy Brummell was impressed with how they dressed. Given the time, it is likely that Brummell wore what was known as “skeleton suits” as a boy, which were simple middle class suits made from linen without any fancy contrivances. This could be part of the reason that when Brummell later became the fashion arbiter for England, that he promoted trousers over knee breeches.
Brummell was educated at Eton where he became known as “Buck” Brummell, and was extremely well liked by the other boys. He spent a short period at Oriel College, Oxford. Not just an empty minded ninny, Brummell was smart. His literary talent and wit are demonstrated by the fact that he was second for the prestigious Newdigate Prize. The Sir Roger Newdigate's Prize is awarded to students of the University of Oxfordfor Best Composition in English verse. To win the award is a practical assurance of academic success.
When Brummell was only sixteen his father died, leaving him an inheritance of over 30,000 pounds, an astronomical figure for itsday. Beau Brummell took a house on Chesterfield Street in Mayfair, and, for a time, avoided extravagance and gambling. For example, he kept horses, but no carriages.
Brummell, now an orphan, but a rich one, persuaded his trustee to buy him a commission in the 10th Light Dragoons, a cavalry regiment known as "the Prince of Wales's Own" because it had been created to satisfy the military daydreams of the obese Prince Regent. The Prince was its Colonel-in-Chief, but since there could be no question of sending the heir to the throne into battle, it followed that his personal regiment would never see combat either. A commission in the 10th Light Dragons was a purely social cachet, an entree to aristocratic circles for ambitious commoners like Brummell. Stationed in the royal resort town of Brighton, their sole duty consisted of prancing around on state occasions wearing luscious uniforms inspired by the Prince’s fantasies of himself as a warrior-king. The Prince wanted to look like a "Hussar," a Hungarian word for the medieval tribesmen who hunted wolves on horseback and slung the pelts over their shoulders and tasseled riding boots. The 10th Light Dragoons swanked about, in a half-on, half-off, fur pelisse, with miles of ropey braiding, real silver tassels hanging from the sleeves, a leopard-skin helmet with a fur crest, and skintight leather breeches worn without underwear to eliminate panty lines. (If the military dressed like this now, even I would enlist!)
When not parading in Brighton in front of a Taj Mahal inspired palace, George IV, the Prince of Wales, was himselfquite an extravagant dresser. Indeed, he dressed like a typical 18th century dandy. When the Prince turned 21, he received a royal inheritance, which was used mostly to purchase clothes, and pay off his gambling debts. In turning 21, this made the Prince eligible to engage in Parliamentary proceedings, including the debates in the House of Lords. The Prince for his first speech showed up in pink high heels, which matched the pink satin lining of his black velvet, gold-embroidered and pink-spangled suiting. No one gave him the fish eye, his style of dress was considered stylish for its day.
It was at this time that the Prince Regent, who had been told that Brummell was a witty fellow, helped obtain an appointment for him in his personal regiment. Here Brummell’s witty and often-scathing remarks kept the Prince bemused, and became the talk of London society. (The two gentlemen loved to “dish”)
“You never see a man walking down the street with a woman who has a little pot belly and a bald spot”. Beau Brummell
Quick on his feet, as they say, Brummell was reportedly an exceptional storyteller and conversationalist. He became in demand at parties, soirees, and all kinds of social events. The Prince and Brummell got along famously. The Prince enjoyed having the attractive, popular, and clever Brummell undertow. Brummell eventually became a Captain of the Tenth Hussars, which provided him the right to wear a fancier uniform too. He became a confidant of the Prince of Wales, who was a good bit older. Brummell was constantly in the Prince's company. Because of this relationship, and his restrained manner dress, Brummell began to be regarded in the circles around the Prince as a virtual oracle on matters related to dress and etiquette, virtually a court fashion arbiter. The Prince adopted Brummell’s manner. A stylist was born.
Brummell spent five comic-opera years in the 10th Light, resigning his commission in 1799, conveniently just before the Napoleonic Wars erupted, (it pays to have friends in high places) but the experience served his purpose. He had met and ingratiated himself with the Prince, and built a friendship with him on the shaky foundations of wish fulfillment; the tall, superbly built Brummell was the commoner that the Prince wanted to look like, and Prince was the ultimate aristocrat that Brummell wanted to live like. It was a dangerously insubstantial structure, held together by their mutual obsession with clothes, and skewering others.
Brummell spoke to the Prince with the endearment, “Prinny”. Brummell in turn was known as “The Beau”, the foreshortened “Beautiful” as in beau, like boyfriend. A bromance was fostered. As people followed what Brummell did, the Prince was from that point on was referred to as “Prinny”, by all his beloved, and Brummell was forever known as “Beau”. It is recorded that Prinny once began to blubber when told that Beau did not like the cut of his coat. Prinny’s conundrum, he was a Prince, but not a Prince Charming, more a toad; he was overweight and unattractive, and therefore doted on Brummell who he projected his fantasies on to. Prinny’s approval caused many aristocrats in the court to adopt Brummell’s style. High heels and bright colors, silk suits with braid and embroidery for gentlemen went quickly out of vogue. Here, Brummell made an impression with his elegant and understated manner of dress. While known as a flashy dresser today, Brummell in his day was know for being unusually unhampered fashion wise. People now did what Brummell did, and wore what Brummell wore.
