“This is a photo of Mr. Harry Bamford, who we believe is a Chap of the highest order, we hope you agree.” A man who wears tablecloths and celebrates Christmas in the middle of June cannot possibly be taken seriously.
Clément Waquet appears to be some sort of Dadaist, on holiday in Communist China with his potted plants and his amplifier. By not even asking us whether he is Chap or not, he is.
Miss Anne Lawrence of Vancouver, Canada, sent us a photo of her brother Mark and his friend Marc. “Just how flexible are you about the requirements of being Chap,” she asked, “and how much latitude do we get being on the fringes of the Empire?” Madam, we seek to make sartorial improvements in all parts of the world by raising standards, not lowering them. We do try to show some flexibility with regards to the fashion foibles of other continents, but we are not contortionists.
Stephen Miller (left) and Andrew Wilson’s response to the recession was to fashion suits (cutting back on the jackets altogether) out of old carpet fabric. This would normally be reminiscent of Blitz-era austerity measures, were it not for Mr. Miller wearing a belt instead of braces. However, it gets worse: he is wearing SUEDE shoes! And where are they standing so proudly in their shirtsleeves? Some sort of Swedish abattoir?
Major Blunder probably thinks it is a matter of course that he is declared a Chap. And in one sense he is right – there is nothing intrinsically wrong about his clothing and his facial hair. It’s just that he looks like the sort of fellow who, one day, might turn a sleepy village in Surrey into a corpse-ridden bloodbath.