Readers submit themselves to the ultimate sartorial assessment. Please send photographs to chap@thechap.co.uk
“I’m Stephen Ross and I recently took part in the London section of The Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride, where chaps and chapettes don their Sunday best for men’s health and well-being charities riding classic motorcycles. Please find attached my two photos taken by photographers on the ride – and I wonder ‘Am I a Chap’ and worthy of featuring in the next issue?”
Sir, not to declare you a Chap with flying colours would be churlish, not to say criminally insane. The only accessory that raised a few eyebrows here at Chap HQ was the bracelet, but then we realised that nowadays it is expected of those raising funds for charity to bedeck their persons with strange jewels and gewgaws. Capital outfit, sir!
“Still bemoaning the days when everything was simply just black and white,” tautologically writes Duke ‘Elegant’. But not for the days when gentlemen wore pocket squares, did all the buttons up on their shirts and waistcoats, and generally donned clothes that actually fitted them, sir?
“Please appraise my attached photo taken at this years Royal Regatta at Henley,” writes Paul Nancollas. “I was there in the pursuance of my duties of (in the common parlance) producing content for Mr Logie-Baird’s infernal machine. Please excuse the matching tie and square, I dressed in a hurry.”
Sir, your pantaloons are dangerously close to de Nimes, your shirt has an unpleasing collar fastening and no cufflinks, and you aren’t wearing any socks (nor proper shoes, for that matter). Thus attired, you may have been granted ingress at a youth hostel in Bled, Slovenia, but we are surprised that Henley let you in.
There is a line in the Noel Coward song,” writes Frank Annable, “that goes ‘though the English are effete, they’re quite impervious to heat’. And so, on a trip to the Lido, my wife and I saw no reason to ‘tear our clothes off and perspire’.”
Mr. Nancollas (above) take note: this is how one should dress for Henley Regatta.
Alexey Ostudin hails from the currently unfashionable country of Russia, but that didn’t stop him out-Chapping all other entrants for the coveted title of Star Chap in CHAP Summer 22, with his choice of attire while boarding the Trans-Siberian Express.
“My name is Shehla Choudhry and I would like to share some pictures of my boyfriend Neil, who I have been with for 4 years. Since the first time I met Neil, I have always been impressed with his great sense of dressing and they way he carries himself. However, he strongly disagrees with me on this subject, so he challenged me to contact you and send his photos to see if you feel same as me. Of course I’m keeping this a surprise until I get a response back.”
Madam, I think we are with Neil on this one.
Russ and Sara Nash looking cruise fabulous aboard the QE2, hopefully on their way to somewhere that fine tailoring and debonair accessories are appreciated, ie the Captain’s Table.
Richard Edmonds is something of a beachcomber. On this occasion, having emerged from a bracing nude swim and finding that his clothes had been stolen, he had to cobble a temporary outfit together from bits of debris found along the shore.
What could be more pleasant than a pint of iced water on a windswept beach in the middle of winter? In Randolph Taylor’s case, it would be a jacket that matches his trousers, a pair of braces and a set of cufflinks. Nice bow tie and boater, though.
“My wife took this picture of myself (with buttonhole flower) and my friend Smythe (he is holding Sadie dog’s lead) at our friend Clarke’s wedding,” writes ‘Tinker’, providing reams of useless information. He went on to inform us that, “whilst it isn’t visible, the lower button on the waistcoat is of course undone.”
Smythe is bawling at the camera, having spotted the fact that Tinker’s waistcoat is a formal one, and therefore the bottom button should not be undone. Good old Smythe. He’ll spot the brogues with Morning Dress next.
Zurab Gogidze is a fan of Hergé detectives Thomson and Thompson, checking an image on his telephone of the pair to ensure his false moustache looks cartoony enough. The photograph, he informs us, was taken at the Moustache Party at Pizza Express, Belsize Park, so nothing more needs to be said.
“For her 21st birthday my eldest wished for a holiday in Ibiza,” writes Dean Temple, “so her mother and I duly obliged and here’s a pic of me by the pool. I wore this rather natty shirt because it meant I could forgo my necktie. Jacket by Alexandre of Savile Row, silk pocket square from our friends at Suiter Bros of Belfast.”
And from whence, sir, may we ask, did you acquire a cravat fashioned from pubic hair?
“Hello chaps, my name is Ash and I live in the woods. I took some of the nearby wood and fashioned it into this little stand for my laptop, what do you think? Oh and by the by, I enjoyed your Am I Chap? idea so much that I started a YouTube channel with exactly the same name, because being out here in the woods for so long has made me lose my manners.”
