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The Chap Loves

Ettinger Wallets

in The Chap Wears by

You’ve seen him here, you’ve seen him there – that Chap who flows through life like a shark in the water. with barely a ripple. The embodiment of sartorial elegance and purposeful intelligence, an individual so elevated as to be almost beyond envy and beyond desire. To observe him is to sit in the silence of non-description, a drifting veil of unrelieved despair, marked only by a rending within, and the knowledge, the certainty, that you will never be him. And then it happens, an act so everyday as barely to deserve mention, and yet you know that in this…

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Stockinged Feet

in The Chap Wears by

Like the idiot uncle or embarrassing aunt, one’s feet are not for public consumption. Uncovered, they dislodge any sense of dignity, and even on a good day can be mistaken for distended offal. Handsome fellows they are not. And yet, loitering at one’s southernmost extremity, these unsightly outgrowths are integral to a Chap’s upstanding and elegance. One cannot simply cheese-grate them from the scene without irretrievable consequences. Like the mule of yesteryear, they are necessary, yet unloved. Perhaps this is why they only get scraps from the sartorial table? When socks are mentioned as presents, it is done so in…

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The Leather Satchel Company

in The Chap Wears by

The first of our homages goes to the Leather Satchel Company. There is a genus of Chap which clings to the disfigured belief that transporting one’s everyday flotsam & jetsam in a carrier bag is both practical and appropriate. It is not. Such malodourous thinking incited the rise of the male Tote Bag – or as your gran called it, a shopping bag. And for the man who utilizes either, or both, articles, these words will have little value or resonance. For any sense of personal dignity has been dislodged by a sartorial death that is black, silent, and terrible.…

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Belts

in The Chap Wears by

The belt has long been one of life’s great mediators, dealing with the no-mans-land twixt the geographical north and south of one’s anatomy; an undisciplined and lawless region. For the borderland of the loins and lower limbs and the head and torso is a meeting of the emotional and the rational self. Well governed, and the transition between the two realms is seamless, resulting in sartorial equilibrium. Unregulated, and the ruinous hybrid ruptures the normally autonomous category of Chap, leaving a precarious creature mined of the darkest dreams of some rogue taxidermist. And you’ve seen the result: strutting and trilling…

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Braces

in The Chap Wears by

Would the Empire have been half as great without braces? Would the thin red line have held, the battles been won, the treaties signed, the ruled cowed and decorum maintained if, at the decisive moment, a Chap had lost control of his trousers – laying bare, before an unsuspecting world, the lily white and withered shanks of the Englishman. The Empire builder’s Achilles heel. I fear not. It’s no surprise that Braces and Empire reached their peaks in tandem. Shoulder to shoulder they marched into history, all conquering and omnipresent. If a Chap had trousers, he had braces. If he…

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