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What to Wear (and not to Wear) at Castle Dracula Posted on 23 Sep 17:33
Castle Dracula, Transylvania, September, 23, 2015
My dear inferiors,
Today I want to talk to you about style, class and graciousness. Why? Because I feel like it. Coco Chanel once famously stated that “fashion changes, but style endures.” I agree, sort of. The problem being: style is dying a sluggish and agonizing death nowadays. Please remember: while it is true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, style is only in the eye of stylish people. Talking about tasteful folks, the day before yesterday, for example, I was invited to the country mansion of a dear friend of mine. His name is Count Dracula. Anyways, we were forced to drive our coach through a small Transylvanian town in order to get to his castle and that was not pleasurable at all, I can assure you, dear inferiors. It was like going through what you might call an inferno of style. I've... seen things... you people wouldn't believe. Men wearing colorful baseball hats and plastic sandals, off the shoulder of Predelut; I watched T-shirts glitter in the dark near the Castle Bran Gate... All those... moments... will be lost, in time, like [chokes up] tears... in... rain. Time... to die.
Actually, I really wish that those moments could be lost in time… you must believe me! Arrogantly crowding the streets, people in their thirties and forties were wearing shorts, T-shirts and tennis shoes during the evening leisure stroll! I mean, can you believe it? They all looked like a bunch of rascals that were escaping from their moms’ dinner calls to me. Let’s establish one clear rule: you cannot wear a T-shirt if you are not a kid anymore. That means, if you are older than 13 years old. Especially if the T-shirt says something, or it has more than two colors. Let alone tennis shoes or shorts! I would tolerate a wisely chosen Polo, of course, but only if you are going to play some Golf.
Listen, gentlemen: is there anybody out there? I mean, granted I was hibernated during the last century, but for the sake of all that is holy, what ever happened to manhood?! My friend explained to me that there is a thing called “adolescence” now. I couldn’t understand what he was talking about so I reached for a vocabulary: it says that adolescence is supposed to be “the period of life from puberty to maturity terminating legally at the age of majority”. That didn’t make things clearer for me. So, “Count Dracula,” I asked, “could you please clarify what this means?” He took a deep breath first. “It’s complicated,” he then answered “and dawn is approaching… may we talk about this another time?” “Sure,” I answered, “as you wish.” And then he left the table, took a bow and disappeared. What a stylish man! I figured it was time for him to take a morning stroll and read the newspapers. He was still wearing the black tuxedo from the night before, but I bet you six hundred and sixty-six Dutch Thalers that he would have changed into a lightly colored morning suit before hitting the streets of his beloved town. I can picture him wearing a light-gray, striped suit with peaked lapels and jetted pocket over a micro-checkered blue shirt. The black captoe bluchers shoes that I was wearing that night would have been perfect for such a suit. Or one could wear brown shoes instead. The controversy regarding black or brown shoes over gray is still ongoing. It’s probably just a matter of taste, but to my eyes, brown looks better than black on light-gray, blue and even green. Opt for the black varnish shoes if you are wearing a tuxedo, of course. And do also opt for black when wearing dark-gray suits, especially at night or during more formal occasions.
Just be aware that if you are wearing brown shoes, you must change your belt too. In addition, I would wear a black (or brown) bowler hat with such a suit, off white gloves and an umbrella (the color of the umbrella doesn’t matter, but make sure it’s not retractable and it has a wooden handle). Oh, and don’t forget a nice printed pocket square, or – like my Italian friends call it – “fazzoletto da taschino”, pocket handkerchief. One word about this: make sure the fazzoletto does not match the color of the suit, the shirt or any other color that you are already wearing: the handkerchief must go well with the color of the outfit without actually matching it. Last, but obviously not least, it’s the necktie. With such a suit and for a similar occasion, a casual morning stroll, I would not be much preoccupied with the necktie. You could actually skip it for an Ascot (go for paisley patterns, blue or brown or even red, if you wish to stand out from the crowd). Otherwise, try a bow tie, same colors. If you really wish to wear a traditional necktie (nothing wrong with it) opt for a light one, as opposed to a seven folds necktie, it would look more casual and less formal (you are not going to the office, remember?). Opt for light, solid colors as well. I would say blue, brown, or even green would look good on a light-gray suit. I would not dare wearing anything more complex than that because you already have chalk stripes on the suit and a checkered shirt, let’s not complicate things. Everything clear? Anyways, if you have questions, comments or suggestions regarding this topic, do please feel free to keep them for yourself. For death threats and insults, please use the following address: madame.marrold@gmail.com
So, Count Dracula disappeared as soon as the dawn arrived. I wonder why. But what didn’t disappear was my doubt regarding adolescence. Let me tell you: when I was growing up there was no such thing as a period of life from puberty to maturity. It was either you were a boy or a man; no middle ground, no shades of gray. Boys wore shorts, men wore pants. T-shirts were for farmers, tennis shoes were for tennis players. What was wrong with that?
Yours, despicably,
Sperm Whales, Little Fashionable People And Refugees Posted on 14 Sep 16:42
All right inferiors, it’s time to illuminate you with another slice of wisdom, John Cravatta style. And you know I am all about style. But don’t get me wrong: style without character is nothing. I despise men and women who can put the right pair of shoes at the right venue but can’t behave the way they are supposed to. Anybody can look at a few fashion pictures on Vogue or GQ and then copy&paste the style of Top Models from around the world. But, like Salomon said: “favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised”. The same can be said about men, of course. Especially because nowadays we don’t really know what a real man is with all this metrosexuality going on. And, before you ask: I don’t like metrosexuality. I have nothing against metrosexuals because they don’t know any better and you are supposed to loath the sin, not the sinner, but I think metrosexuality is a problem from hell.
I know, some of you (inferiors) would like to put John Cravatta in a museum for saying this, but John Cravatta is and will always be a dinosaur of the 21st century. Sorry! This is supposed to be about true style anyways, so follow me: when you are looking for a man (or a woman) don’t judge by the cover only. “Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids”. Men and women, nowadays, are all about esthetics, cosmetics, magnetic glances and perfumes. But you must “beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.”
What I am trying to say is that clothes and accessories are indeed important, but an empty, even though perfectly clothed shell, will not suffice. Little Fashionable People, like I call them, are utterly useless. Men must be knowledgeable in order to be interesting, and even though they might be able to afford Dolce&Gabbana’s gowns, women certainly cannot afford to be shallow and must be capable of entertaining a good conversation with anybody. Stay away from the kind of men that, while at a dinner table, will try to steer the conversation toward soccer as soon as possible and keep also a good distance from women who are only good at gossiping:. More in general, stay well away from slanderers, hypocrites and whited sepulchers that will stab you in the back, given the slightest chance.
I know, you must be thinking: wait a minute: “is this supposed to be a blog about style and ties, or what?” Well, my dear inferiors, you see? John Cravatta does it his own way. I’m not going to copy the ideas of other people because I have my own ideas. And in my mind, a blog that only talks about style can be lightheartedly left alone in the digital sea of triviality to which it pertains. I am more than happy to entertain just a few readers, the ones that can appreciate, instead of as many as I can. I don’t want to sell my neckties to superficial individuals who wear nothing but nice clothes and have no interesting books in their bookcase. These kind of people should go and buy their neckties somewhere else. John Cravatta only sells his goods to good people: God fearing mean and women with a sense of decency and a penchant for respectable, old-fashioned morals.
The problem is: we live in a culture that kills thousands of babies each and every day but it is concerned with the well-being of Sperm Whales (by the way, would you please prevent the biologist who named the Sperm Whale to ever name another animal in the future? Thanks). We live in a culture that, in the name of political correctness, brags about gay rights but, alas! At the same time it defends the right to exist of Islamic states that execute gay people. We live in a culture that tolerates everybody… as long as they don’t have opinions of their own. We live in a culture that promotes sexual promiscuity and condemns traditional morals for the sole reason of being traditional. We have bought into the lies of feminism, communism, socialism, atheism and other stupid “isms” and we wonder why people don’t have children and don’t get married anymore, all of a sudden.
We know that a chain cannot be stronger than its weaker ring as much as a State can’t be stronger that the families of which it is composed, but we wonder why States are no longer functioning as they used to, back in the good old days when the traditional family was considered a good thing.
My dear inferiors, we are teaching our kids that they are the result of a cosmic accident, instead of being made in the resemblance of God, that they actually descend from the apes and that when they’ll die, they will dissolve into nothingness and then we wonder why they get depressed!
We look at the refugees crisis and point the finger at European politicians, instead of blaming it on the Middle Eastern Totalitarian Regimes that are actually causing the crisis. We consider ourselves to be much more knowledgeable than our ancestors, but in reality we are a bunch of ignorant who can’t tell a Rembrandt from a Renault.
Ah, despicable me! I have only something like 800 words and it’s hard to illuminate you with 800 words. But I’m doing my best, as you can see. I take a bow for now.
Despicably yours,
John “The Bapitst” Cravatta
The Madrassa of Style: God Forgives, John Cravatta Doesn't Posted on 2 Sep 10:16
This distinguished French gentleman’s name is Henri Le Blanc. A long time ago, way before the advent of the personal computer and the GAMEBOY, he wrote a fascinating book entitled “The Art of Tying the Cravat,” which you can now download for free.
This book has been written in 1828, but don’t think for a second that it is passé. To the contrary, Le Blanc’s sense of style and elegance could easily rival the one of nowadays’ most renown self-appointed “fashion experts”.
Take a look at this description regarding the “cravat sentimentale”, for example.
“The name alone of this cravat is sufficient to explain that it is not alike suitable to all faces. You then, whose nature has not gifted with skins of silk – eyes of fire – with complexions rivalling the rose and lily: – you to whom she has denied perly teeth and coral lips (a gift which in our opinion would be rather inconvenient) – you, in fact, whose faces does not possess that sympathetic charm, which in a moment, at a glance, spreads confusion o’er the senses, and disorder and troubles in the hearts of all who behold you – be careful of how you expose to public gaze a head like that of a peruquier. We repeat – avoid it; and be assured that if your physiognomy does not does not inspire sensations of love and passion and you should adopt the cravat sentimentale, you will be a fair butt for the shafts of ridicule which (with no unsparing hand) will be showed upon you on all sides”.
How magnificently politically incorrect, I say! Despicable me! Chapeau. À propos, today isn’t the first Wednesday of the month, but let me say something serious anyway: when I’ll become King of the World, all the men that wear shorts&sandals away from the beach will be lapidated and then fed to the lions for good measure. God forgives, John Cravatta doesn’t. And this admirable marvel of a man who was Henri Le Blanc, reminds us that style is about rules to follow. There are people out there who don’t like to follow rules and consequently dislike fashion. But you see? You really have to be careful when you go about your business, because there’s plenty of people out there, in the world. People can be harsh at times and they will judge you. It isn’t called the urban jungle for no reason, after all. We would all love to live in a perfect world, a world in which nobody will judge books by their covers and people from their dresses. But, like Bob Dylan would put it: that ain’t the case, babe! The world is what it is: it isn’t bad or good, it is only what it is. And you have to take it for granted, like it or not. Moreover, consider that the world will become worse indeed. When I come to power I will make sure that everybody reads Le Blanc’s book from cover to cover at least once a week. It will be like the madrassa of style. Nobody will be allowed to wear the wrong thing at the wrong time and in the wrong place, under penalty of death. I’m considering lapidation, or perhaps decapitation, but I haven’t decided yet. Decapitation sounds interesting, but I’ll have common’s people blood all over my pavement…
You might think this is a bit harsh, but that’s only because you have unfortunately allowed modern thinking to take over reasoning. But seriously, it really doesn’t take much to dress like a man and if you don’t do it people will take you for a kid. I’m not kidding you. You must be aware of the fact that your clothes should be of the right size, the right material, according to the season, the appropriate colors and they should be well ironed and not stained. Furthermore, the accessories you wear must be adequate not only to the occasion, but also to your clothes: watches, belts, hats, you name it. It is not about fashion, really: it’s about not being sloppy.
Pardon me, if I feel like Henri Le Blanc: you then, whose nature has not gifted with reason , you to whom she has denied wisdom and critical thought (a gift which in our opinion would be rather inconvenient) – you, in fact, whose faces does not possess that sympathetic charm, which in a moment, at a glance, spreads confusion o’er the senses, and disorder and troubles in the hearts of all who behold you – be careful of how you expose to public gaze. I might be there watching you. Remember: God’ forgives, John Cravatta doesn’t.
In the Beginning, it Was the Cravat… Posted on 14 Jul 12:52
I was hibernated many, many years ago, during the “Age of Style”. I have no idea who did that to me and why, although I think the culprit might be a very well-known Romanian vampire… but to you this doesn’t really matter. The fact is: somebody woke me up not so long ago and what matter is: I am a style dinosaur, the last of the Mohicans, a testimony of good, old-fashioned style. My morals are obnoxiously conservative, at least as much as my outward look. I don’t advocate for gay rights, I’m not an animalise, I don’t think humans should try and save the word and I regard liberals individuals and ideas with much suspicion. Also, I love the smell of un-refined gasoline and I truly believe that the internal combustion engine is a divine invention which saved the world. I don’t like Pagans and I think that women are very different from men and they should attempt to become soldiers and they should indulge in any other manly occupation, either. I think that what you call “feminism” (I’m guessing you are referring to the Suffragette Movement…) is despicable and utterly anti-women. Feminism is so anti-women that actually negates femininity. I also despise Yoga, because I want nothing to do with the God Brahman, I’m not dying and I am not a Hindu. Much in the same fashion, Vegans give me the goose bumps. Meat is good for you.
But there is one thing I love and that is: style. And since, in order to win my bread I must do publicity for a reknown brand of neckties in the capital of Italy I’ve also came to love neckties. Here’s why I love them… In a sense, we own the existence of contemporary neckties and bowties to the Habsburg Monarchy. Why? Well, it’s because they were the ones who founded the Croats or Crabats or Crabatten, if you wish. You see where I’m going? Yes, it’s the “Cravat”. Modesty apart, I was born with a cravat and therefore I believe I’m entitled to talk about this, also given the fact that my name is John Cravatta. In the beginning, it was the cravat. But who were the Crabats? you might ask. Well, they were 17th century men-at-arms recruited from all over Eastern Europe. They were Croatians, Hungarians, Serbs, Albanians, Transylvanians, Poles, Cossacks, Walachians and Tatars. They were many, they fought well and hard. For example: they took part in in the 1623 Battle of Stadtlohn as well as in the Thirty Years' War, but most importantly they fought with style. In fact, they use to wear a neckband, apparently made of linen, which served them for hygienic purposes, but maybe also as some sort of psychological protection.
Now, that’s why the origin of the modern tie could be traced back in the 1600s; That was definitively a bloody century, some called it “the century of the soldier” in fact. The term “cravat” itself was originally used by the French to describe somebody from Croatia. Anyway, sometimes good things come from bad things and like most gentlemen's styles sandwiched between the 17th century and the First World War, also the cravat came from the martial society. Curiously enough, even though the modern descendant of the Crabat is a businessman and doesn’t go around killing people, he still needs a “cravat”. Right, cravat history 101 ends here, you get an “A+”, but what is a contemporary necktie or bowtie and why do we need it? Good question. My educated answer would be something along the lines of “a tie” is a piece of art, because, like any other artwork, it does not have any practical function. It’s an aesthetic tinsel, hanging from a suit. It was Charles II of England, who gave the first modern definition of a necktie in 1660:
“A cravatte is another kind of adornment for the neck being nothing else but a long towel put about the Collar, and so tyed before with a Bow Knott; this is the original of all such Wearings; but now by the Art and Inventions of the seamsters, there is so many new ways of making them, that it would be a task to name, much more to describe them”.
Even before that: the very first known picture of a man wearing a cravat comes from 1622 and it depicts the Croatian-born baroque poet Ivan Gundulić.
It was is more like a scarf than a necktie, and it was white and probably made of linen, but still: it was rather dandy. Notice how that simple white muffler tied loosely around his neck adds style to the figure of this ancient gentleman. Gundulić, likewise known as “Gianfrancesco Gondola”, was probably the most well-known Croatian Baroque poet. He was a Roman-Catholic and utterly against the Lutheran reformation and he was also opposed to what he used to call “the vanity of this world”. How ironic, right? Anyways, we would like to remember him for his sense of style. Gundulić's most celebrated play was a pastoral called “Dubravka”, written in 1628, here’s a passage.
“Fair liberty, beloved liberty, liberty sweetly avowed,
thou are the treasured gift that God to us endowed,
all our glory is thy true creation,
to our Home thou are all the decoration,
no silver nor gold, not life itself could replace
the reward of thy pure and sublime grace.”
Mr. Gundulić might have been a stylish poet, but you have a chance to be a stylish gentleman, which in my humble opinion, is even better. And remember: style is what you do while no one is watching. So choose your cravats well and don't ask your wife about colours! Ask me, instead. At your service.
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