Skip to main content

Art Deco Menswear Style. . .

A reproduction of a 1934 poster advertising a menswear collection for the Viennese department store Jawo.


Kind of quiet here at Totleigh-in-the-Wold what with the recent rains, no teaching duties, no one bothering me about anything having to do with other work commitments (they're all away for the summer), and a recent jaunt to the dental surgeon's chair to begin the lengthy process necessary for an eventual dental implant.  Ugh.  

The one high point of the procedure was that I got to practice my German with the doctor, whose father is German, so he spent a large part of his formative years there.  You just never know when these languages will come in handy.  If you'll pardon the flagrant self-promotion, my Norwegian, Swedish, and German have come in handy at the oddest moments over the years, often far beyond the regions where those languages are actually spoken!  It certainly adds an interesting, and at times very useful, dimension to life.

Returning to the point at hand, I haven't felt up to much since Thursday for obvious reasons, so there has been plenty of idle time to tool around online, which meant that I eventually happened upon the illustrations shared today.  Kind of cool, don't you think?

-- Heinz-Ulrich









Comments

Popular Posts

Avoid Careless Chatter. . .

    E specially about the personal details of our lives.  There is a lot that OUGHT to be kept more private in 2022 than has become the accepted norm for many.  With the conscious and intentional cultivation of classic style in mind, however, we want to avoid oversharing and keep a bit more of ourselves to ourselves.  Exactly what personal information and how much of it to keep private seems to be a slippery concept though.  Here’s my take based on what I was told and observed as a child and young person at home.  Basically, one should keep oneself to oneself in all respects (finances, personal worth, accomplishments, politics, sex, dirty laundry, etc.).  As my late father used to advise when we were very small, and I am talking preschool and kindergarten, there were particular subjects that were not discussed outside the immediate family.  There is a time and place for sharing certain details of one’s life, but most of the time, those should be played very close to the chest,

Shoulder Season Tuesday. . .

    A beautiful sunrise here early this morning, but now very gray and chilly with highs forecast for the low 40s F.  So, back to the flannel on top but paired with yet another pair of lighter colored dress chinos -- I call 'em 'khakis' regardless of the precise shade.  Even those in olive green. -- and various other items.   The tweeds and cords are put away in the cedar closet for the season although I have the feeling a tweed suit might have been just the thing today given the nip still in the air.  And to think I had on shorts, short sleeves, and dock-siders (sans socks) for Sunday mowing when temperatures climbed to the low 8os F.   As the saying goes, springtime in Michigan.  Not quite time for the seersucker, linen, Madras shirts and neckties. -- Heinz-Ulrich

Chilly Late April Wednesday Attire. . .

    Y ou know, if it is going to remain this cold and blustery, I need about eight inches of snow for some more cross-country skiing.  But since the white stuff is long gone, it was time to fish through the cedar closet down in Zum Stollenkeller and pull out some cold weather attire for a seasonal reboot.   But I decided to forgo the usual gray herringbone jacket from J.  Press (my go-to tweed  sports jacket) and instead opted for this number from Hart, Schaffner, and Marx plus the tan cords that hang on the same hanger, so strenuous mental effort was not required.  Pressed the shirt after tucking in the Young Master last night at 8:30, grabbed these shoes, and socks, and Bob is your mother's brother as they say.   Occasionally gazing through the large library window to my immediate left this morning, and I keep hearing that old Jobim tune drift through my mind this morning (aided by the windmills), as sung by Astrud Gilberto ( together with Leonard Cohen and Paolo Conte, the musi