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librarianonparade's review against another edition
4.0
Beau Brummell was not just a man of fashion, he was the man of fashion, the man who more than any other created the male 'look' we know today. It is Brummell we have to thank for the concept of the suit, the limited palate of men's formal wear, of white shirts and black tie, the concept of the tuxedo, the very notion of trousers as opposed to knee breeches. Before Brummell men still dressed like peacocks - think of the wigs and lace and ruffles and diamonds in any caricature of the Prince Regent - and then think of every Pride and Prejudice adaptation you've ever seen, with Mr Darcy in trousers, waistcoat and cutaway coat of subdued colours. You have Brummell to thank for that.
What is so remarkable about Brummell's lasting influence on menswear and fashion is his ability to influence it at all. He was a commoner, of no birth or family, whose grandparents were from the London poor. His father earned his wealth from his role as clerk to important political figures and the resulting political graft and corruption. But Brummell was born nobody of importance, and his inherited wealth was substantial but by no means extravagant, so one can only attribute his ability to mingle in the highest social circles, his position as the ultimate arbiter of fashion and style and breeding, and his role as the fashion trendsetter to his own wit, charm, charisma, glamour and innate sense of style. Princes followed Brummell's lead, his very act of dressing in the mornings was attended by the great and good, entranced by Brummell's 'dandy' style and glamour. He was often imitated, not least by royalty itself, but never equalled.
Of course, in the manner of all great stories, it didn't last, as Ian Kelly charts in this sparkling biography. Brummell's fall from grace is generally attributed to his famous remark, when speaking of the Prince Regent at a masquerade ball, 'Who's your fat friend?' but in reality he was long living beyond his means, and his real downfall came through the dishonourable and ungentlemanly reneging on a debt between equals. Brummell fled to France to avoid his creditors, and ultimately died impoverished and riddled with syphilis in a French asylum. It was a sad end, a true tragic arc - and yet his influence has outlasted him and then some. Men still dress in a style Brummell would have recognised as his innovation.
As far as he can, Ian Kelly lets Brummell speak for himself through his own letters and the letters and memoirs of those who knew him - the aristocratic friends who included Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, the Duchess of York, Sheridan and Charles Fox, and the famed courtesans Harriette Wilson and Julia Johnstone. One can read something of Brummell's wit and charm in these words, although at such a remove it is almost impossible to capture the real essence of a man who captivated Regency England with nothing more than his style and the force of personality. But Ian Kelly comes as close as anyone could, and both he and Brummell were eminently entertaining companions during this read.
What is so remarkable about Brummell's lasting influence on menswear and fashion is his ability to influence it at all. He was a commoner, of no birth or family, whose grandparents were from the London poor. His father earned his wealth from his role as clerk to important political figures and the resulting political graft and corruption. But Brummell was born nobody of importance, and his inherited wealth was substantial but by no means extravagant, so one can only attribute his ability to mingle in the highest social circles, his position as the ultimate arbiter of fashion and style and breeding, and his role as the fashion trendsetter to his own wit, charm, charisma, glamour and innate sense of style. Princes followed Brummell's lead, his very act of dressing in the mornings was attended by the great and good, entranced by Brummell's 'dandy' style and glamour. He was often imitated, not least by royalty itself, but never equalled.
Of course, in the manner of all great stories, it didn't last, as Ian Kelly charts in this sparkling biography. Brummell's fall from grace is generally attributed to his famous remark, when speaking of the Prince Regent at a masquerade ball, 'Who's your fat friend?' but in reality he was long living beyond his means, and his real downfall came through the dishonourable and ungentlemanly reneging on a debt between equals. Brummell fled to France to avoid his creditors, and ultimately died impoverished and riddled with syphilis in a French asylum. It was a sad end, a true tragic arc - and yet his influence has outlasted him and then some. Men still dress in a style Brummell would have recognised as his innovation.
As far as he can, Ian Kelly lets Brummell speak for himself through his own letters and the letters and memoirs of those who knew him - the aristocratic friends who included Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, the Duchess of York, Sheridan and Charles Fox, and the famed courtesans Harriette Wilson and Julia Johnstone. One can read something of Brummell's wit and charm in these words, although at such a remove it is almost impossible to capture the real essence of a man who captivated Regency England with nothing more than his style and the force of personality. But Ian Kelly comes as close as anyone could, and both he and Brummell were eminently entertaining companions during this read.
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