The · Affected · Provincial’s · Almanack

I grew up across the bay from Ocean City, NJ. And writer Gay Talese, who was born there, has had a home in Ocean City for as long as I've been alive. Both his parents were tailors on Asbury Ave.

Having grown up among Italian families who moved down to the Shore from Philly, I've always had an affection and admiration for the sharply dressed, older Italian-American men that I would see in my neighborhood. They favored lively Mediterranean pastels: pinks, peaches, mint greens, sea foam blues, and creamy yellows. Creamy yellow seemed to be the color of choice for their Cadillacs, kitted out with gleaming white wall tires, shining wire rims and luggage racks.

They may not have embodied the impeccable, effortless elegance of their continental counterparts, but they certainly were natty--that is to say, cocky, colorful, charming, and dapper. I'll always regard those slick old gents as heroes. Salud!

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Joel also showed me an original edition of Alexander Wilson's famous work, American Ornithology. Wilson worked himself to death hand coloring each of the plates in all his books. In fact, he died a year before it was finally published. He's buried at the Old Swedes' Church in Philadelphia.( Read more... )

PS: I'll be paying a visit to Wilson's grave tomorrow afternoon before attending that screening of Helvetica tomorrow evening. Care to join me, my fellow Philadelphians?

In the days when people actually used social calling cards rather than business cards, there were four things one could say by folding the corners: bending the upper left corner said visite, meaning you had given the card personally; bending the upper right corner said félicitation, meaning you extend your congratulations; bending the lower left corner said congé, meaning you were leaving town; bending the lower right corner said condolence, which expressed sympathy.

Just thought you might like to know.

~W

Over the summer my friend Joel Fry, Curator of Bartram's Garden, treated me to a couple hours' perusal of their collection of books and manuscripts. Most significant among the items are their rare American, British, and French editions of William Bartram's book, Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West Florida, the Cherokee Country, the Extensive Territories of the Muscogulges or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Chactaws. Containing an Account of the Soil and Natural Productions of Those Regions; Together with Observations on the Manners of the Indians.

The book is a groundbreaking work of American natural history--the first book of its kind, really. Published in 1791, it was eventually followed by the works of Alexander Wilson, Thomas Say and John James Audubon--all of whom owed a debt to Bartram. ( Passages from the book )

( His influence on the Romantic poets )

( Photos of the original American edition )
( Photos of the later British edition )
( Photos of the French edition )

Heard from friend and Joyce scholar Mike Barsanti this morning. Remarkable man, Mike: he once flew to Dublin with the handwritten manuscript of Ulysses on his lap. His other claim to fame is that the features of his face and head are remarkably well-proportioned.

Anyway, he has kindly informed me that there will be a free screening of "Helvetica" this Thursday evening at UPenn's Rotunda. As a design veteran and someone who grew up in the Helvetica-besotted 70's, I harbor some affection for this homely sans serif workhorse.

( Full information behind the cut )

Thanks for letting me know, Mike. Here's some delicious Joyce smut for your trouble, kind sir.

~W

Votes are being tallied over the next four days, although I'm already writing my concession speech. I'm a realistic fellow: the Philly Phanatic clearly has this one locked down. He has the car, the hair, the fame--a triple threat, you might say. Some have weighed in, but others have decided to abstain, citing a surfeit of age and soap as their point of contention.

But hey, at worst I'm the "Sixth Sexiest Man in Town!" Has to be a free drink somewhere in Philly for someone bearing such a title. Probably a free bran muffin at best, but that's just as well, since otherwise there might be a rather sad scene thirty years from now: some bloated little man in a tattered suit at the end of the bar, slurring to no one in particular, "I wascht da sithf secksyist dood in town wuncsh...ey, where y'goin, baby?"

My new Duchess suit arrived this weekend, and last night I took it for a test drive--hence, the look of intense concentration on my face. So exhausting, all this scrutinizing and swanning about before the mirror!

I've wanted a gray suit for some time now. They're ideal for spring, and lend themselves to a subtler range of color schemes. You can't tell in these photos, but I picked this particular color because it fluctuates between gray and sage green, depending on the quality of light and the colors in my shirts. I've found that bright daylight brings out the green, but evening light tones it down to a soft dove gray.

The cut is what the ladies at Duchess call The 8 1/2, which is very slim and clean. Like the name suggests, it's a 60's style cut, which is a look I tend to favor, as it follows one's physique rather than hides it.

(An aside: The one and only thing I have in common with the Regency bucks of Brummell's day is that I too like to emulate the Greco-Roman Apollonian ideal in my dress, which exalted the male form. I fail miserably of course, but that's beside the point, which is that I've worked out this specious and elaborate rationale for my unseemly preference for tight trousers. It's a cavalier thing; puritans and prigs, avert your thighs. Woof!)

Anyway, this clean profile complements the texture of the wool, which is slightly more coarse than what is seen on an average suit. The pick stitching on the pockets and lapels also helps to roughen up the look just a bit, keeping it from becoming too immaculate and precious. Simple, hardy, and gray-green: a suit fit for a gardener.

( Care to take a peek? )

Thank you, Duchess. Faced as we are with a future more fit for rats than peacocks, I can now look my inevitable extinction in the eye, having now dressed for the occasion.

( By the way: Nick Cave is lurking around back here, too. )

Happy anniversary, my love.

(Apologies for any sentimental treacle that might drip from this post onto your keyboard.)

A reader asks:

Goodly Lord Whimsy,
I was curious about you stance on the classic white oxford. How do you feel about white leather shoes? What one might wear or not wear with them? and anything else on the subject you may like to expound upon. All would be greatly appreciated.
In your good graces,
Marcus

.....

Gee Marcus, I wish I could chime in at length, but other than a rather milquetoast "depends" I lack much of an opinion on the matter. I've owned shoes of many colors--sometimes all on the same shoe--but not white oxford lace-ups.

I will say that I've seen light-colored and white shoes pulled off rather well, and I've also seen them misapplied (raises hand). As with many daring looks, a lean build with long legs helps, as does as a lack of self-seriousness about one's attire. I could never pull them off, myself. Too short. I can only applaud from the sidelines: it's the Ankle Boot Ghetto for Yours Truly.

Like certain kinds of hats, white shoes with a white suit seems to be one of those perks that comes with age, and as such is best left for older men--it comes off a bit too "young fogey" otherwise. Gentlemen of color seem to be the exception, though. Seems to work for them.

I've always approved of the sartorial move seen above. It has just the right amount of wry, louche, piquant sleaze; I've come to believe that vulgarity often requires as much finesse as elegance. Having a slightly lowlife mein helps to justify such a choice. It also helps to be a smart ass from the northeast. Clean cut boy-faced WASPs have too many vitamins to pull it off.

Hope this was of interest,
W

Once every couple months, my friend James takes time out from his adventures and sends a dispatch, keeping me up to date on his exploits.

Ever get the feeling someone out there is having more fun than you are? Well, that person is The Inimitable James, Pet of The Gods. ( Read more... )

Primitive plant: more complex than bryophytes like moss or liverwort, but less complex than ferns.

My new suit from Duchess has arrived! The Missus gasped. Will share with you soon.

Today I'm busy finishing an illustration intended to be used on a wine label. It's a fun assignment, but I'm looking forward to completing it so I can start my winter project: a cold frame. I have a couple of old windows kindly donated to me by a good friend in Philly, and it should be a handsome little garden folly when its done. It will be nice to be able to start seedlings earlier in the season now.

The ultimate goal is to build a walk-in cold frame like the one found at the Tyler Arboretum. We'll see how I do with this little fellow first. Although I can perform cheap parlor tricks like reshingle my wood awning, repair a door jamb or widen the opening in a door for new hardware, my level of carpentry skill is comparable to what you mint find on an average tree fort built by a twelve year-old (just showed my age there).

~W

Found these glass blocks at the hardware store.