Friday, 30 August 2024

Can Tim Walz’s wardrobe win the White House?

 


 Can Tim Walz’s wardrobe win the White House?

 

The vice-president nominee’s workwear is a central conversation on the election trail. It’s not the first time fashion has become political

 


Ellie Violet Bramley

Thu 29 Aug 2024 12.00 EDT

https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/article/2024/aug/29/can-a-wardrobe-win-the-white-house

 

Let’s play the word association game. What do you think of when you read the following? Plaid. Workwear. Camo. If it isn’t words such as practical, hardwearing, hunting or fishing then you’ve been drinking from fashion’s well for too long. Because while in recent years luxury labels have turned all of the above into catwalk fodder, these are the clothes equivalents of agriculture, land, the great outdoors.

 

They also just happen to be the cornerstones of vice-president nominee Tim Walz’s style. He wore an LL Bean barn jacket while on a farm last November, and was spotted in a camouflage cap after he got the call from Kamala Harris asking him to be her running buddy. His wardrobe is all Carhartt, fleeces, jeans, Red Wing boots and worn-in T-shirts.

 

Because, offstage and off-duty, away from the national stage and at home in Minnesota, Tim Walz is “a regular guy”. Or, a regular Nebraska-born former high school football coach with a gun licence, a penchant for ice fishing and 24 years in the National Guard under his well-worn leather belt, an extra hole teased into it with a Swiss army knife.

 

Commentators have been quick to define his style as possessing “a kind of down-home lack of fuss” and his vibe as “a white guy who exudes midwestern dad energy”. He can wear the kind of quote unquote normal clothes that many voters wear and not look like he is trying to cosplay as a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. He wears patinated Carhartt with the ease of someone who has been wearing it for years. He wears clothes to actually do the thing they were intended for, not to weaponise whatever said thing is symbolic of – hunting clothes to hunt, for instance, as opposed to hunting clothes on the campaign trail in a bid to harness the optics of hunting. “Democrats want to foreground that he wears these clothes not to appeal to a middle-class voter from middle America; he wears them because he is a middle-class voter from middle America,” wrote Washington Post fashion writer Rachel Tashjian in a recent column.

 

But most of all, commentators – and the Democrats keen to translate workwear jackets into “blue wall” votes – have been keen to flag the authenticity of his plaid and boots. “You can tell those flannel shirts he wears don’t come from some political consultant,” said former president Barack Obama recently. “They come from his closet – and they have been through some stuff.” This kind of rural sartorial “authenticity” isn’t the kind of thing you can buy. It just is. And, realistically, sartorial authenticity to many male politicians is navy blue suits and ties and not the hard hats and big boots they favour for site visits and more masculine-coded events.

 

Others have succeeded in signalling their own brand of authenticity – whatever that looks like in their case – long before Walz was mentioned as a prospective ticket mate. Bernie Sanders, for one. As Guardian columnist Jonathan Freedland said back in 2020 of the Vermont scruffbag-millionaire: “A politician who does not appear to have been styled by advisers … immediately conveys through their dress that they are different – that they are their own person, that they listen to their conscience rather than to spin doctors and handlers, that they are people of principle and conviction and that, perhaps, they care too deeply about serious issues to be bothered with such trivia as their personal appearance.”

 

Many politicians before have tried to style or spend their way out of appearing elitist or out-of-touch. On that side of the Atlantic, there was Florida governor Ron DeSantis who looked like an alligator out of water in fishing shirts on the campaign trail or Texas governor Rick Perry wearing a too-stiff barn jacket. On this side, any excuse to bring up William Hague on a log flume in a baseball cap with “HAGUE” on it. And Rishi Sunak, who could no more hide that he is a quarter-zip sweater kind of guy with a fortune of £650m than he could make anyone believe that he had owned the enormous Timberland boots he wore to speak to Border Force crews “for ages”. In truth, he couldn’t win: he was also lambasted for wearing Prada loafers to a building site, which were far more authentically him. It isn’t just a pitfall for rightwing politicians: see former barrister Keir Starmer in military fatigues for one example.

 

There is very much a double standard here. As Tashjian writes: “It’s funny to imagine a political party foregrounding a woman’s down-to-earth wardrobe: we just love the senator for wearing those Lululemon leggings. To be taken more seriously, at this level of politics, a man dresses down and a woman dresses up.” It’s a good point – in fact, maybe it is why Kamala Harris’s Converse seem to have been taking a back seat.

 

There is another layer to all of this, because how much any of Walz’s authentic workwear will actually translate into rural votes is yet to be seen. But it certainly feels like a stronger sartorial bid than most and one that may well do the unthinkable, making politicians’ style something to aspire to rather than deride, something that causes a spike in Carhartt or peak in plaid as opposed to killing off a look, as Sunak did to Sambas. Are we about to see the Walz effect? Only time will tell.

Thursday, 29 August 2024

The Heritage Post Trade Show No. 4


https://the-heritage-post-trade-show.de/en/4-the-heritage-post-trade-show/

IT WAS A FEAST FOR US

 

On May 25 and 26, 2024, the 4th The Heritage Post Trade Show took place at the Areal Böhler in Düsseldorf – again with a great response! Many thanks to all exhibitors and visitors who took part.

 

If you weren’t able to join us this time, think of the show as a unique traveling department store: There are authentic clothes, good shoes, delicious drinks, fine suits, great dresses, natural cosmetics, accurate watches, unique jewelry, awesome bikes, unusual toys, sharp knives, exceptional decor, beautiful writing instruments, high-quality accessories, equipment for our four-legged friends, beguiling perfumes and much more.

 

Where else can you find such beautiful, diverse and passionately crafted products in one place? As in our magazine The Heritage Post, which we have been publishing for ten years now, the common denominator is quality and individuality.


Tuesday, 27 August 2024

The Bedale Hunt - An ARD Mediathek DE production

10 years ago: THE HUNT - Documentary / Fox Hunters in the U.K. Want Protected Status Under Discrimination Law


Fox Hunters in the U.K. Want Protected Status Under Discrimination Law

 

A lobbying group is preparing a bid to define hunting with animals as a protected belief. Many experts have questions.

 



Amelia Nierenberg

By Amelia Nierenberg

Reporting from London

Aug. 26, 2024

Updated 9:23 a.m. ET

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/26/world/europe/uk-fox-hunting-ban-status.html

 

English fox hunters have tried, for years, to push back against a nearly 20-year-old ban on their beloved sport.

 

The centuries-old tradition of using packs of dogs to chase and kill foxes — or any wild mammals — became illegal in England in 2005, after a long parliamentary struggle driven by campaigners and lawmakers who opposed it on animal welfare grounds.

 

So far, the law has stood, and fox hunting remains hugely unpopular among the general public: 80 percent of people in Britain think it should remain illegal, according to YouGov, a polling company.

 

Now, a pro-hunting activist has a new plan of attack.

 

Ed Swales, the activist, founded Hunting Kind, a lobby group that aims to protect hunting with dogs and other forms of hunting, in early 2022. He wants to use Britain’s Equality Act — which protects people from discrimination because of their age, race, sexuality or religion, among other things — to classify a pro-hunting stance as a protected belief.

 

That would put it in the same legal category as atheism, pacifism, ethical veganism, and, ironically, a moral opposition to fox hunting.

 

“If he’s ‘anti-hunt,’ well, you can be ‘hunt,’” Mr. Swales said. “It’s just the same law.”

 

Mr. Swales, 55, said he was preparing to bring a series of anti-discrimination lawsuits in the hope of setting a legal precedent that could, eventually, help reverse the fox-hunting ban.

 

“We’ve been doing this for millennia,” he said. Hunting is “literally part of our cultural heritage.”

 

Hunting itself is not illegal in England. Shooting deer, rabbits, duck and some other animals is allowed during hunting seasons, with permission from the landowner and a gun license.

 

But the hunting community is bracing for an anticipated challenge by Britain’s new Labour government, which pledged to ban trail hunting — where dogs follow a deliberately laid scent trail, usually of fox urine, instead of a real fox — in its election platform.

 

The British Hound Sports Association, which promotes and governs hunting with dogs in the U.K., says that by simulating traditional fox hunting, trail hunting allows the community to continue “to support the sport they love” despite the ban.

 

But animal rights activists say trail hunting can be a smoke screen for illegal fox hunting, because trails frequently run through land where foxes live, and foxhounds cannot always tell the difference between a fox and an artificial scent.

 

Last year, Chief Superintendent Matt Longman, England’s police lead on fox hunting, said that illegal hunting was “still common practice,” with trail hunts frequently taking place in natural fox habitats.

 

“Foxes often end up getting caught and killed by the dogs regardless,” said Josh Milburn, a lecturer in political philosophy at Loughborough University who studies animal rights.

 

Late last month, Mr. Swales sent out a survey to fellow hunters to try to find potential discrimination cases. He said many shared instances of verbal abuse or intimidation during recent hunting excursions. And this year, two venues canceled events for trail hunting groups after campaigns from anti-hunting activists. “They got told, ‘We are canceling you because we got so much pressure from the anti-hunt brigade,’” Mr. Swales said.

 

Some experts said that the planned discrimination lawsuits were a distraction from the debate over animal rights, which hunters with dogs have already lost in the court of public opinion. “In making this argument that fox hunters are the persecuted group, they’re trying, I think, to shift the conversation from talking about foxes to talking about people,” Dr. Milburn said.

 

Others questioned the idea that those who hunt with dogs — a community that has traditionally included some of Britain’s wealthiest landowners — needed special protection.

 

“Here we have an argument being made that in fact some of the most privileged in our society should also be protected on the basis of their shared activity chasing and killing a terrified wild animal,” Edie Bowles, the executive director of the Animal Law Foundation, a legal research charity, wrote in an email.

 

Several lawyers and academics who study discrimination said Mr. Swales’s argument might have some success, but the bar would be high. Under Britain’s 2010 Equality Act, a protected characteristic must “be a belief and not an opinion or viewpoint” and it must “not conflict with the fundamental rights of others.”

 

“The test requires that the belief be genuinely held and that it be sufficiently cogent and weighty and coherent,” said Colm O’Cinneide, a professor of constitutional and human rights law at University College London. A mere political opinion would not pass muster, he said: “There needs to be some sort of belief structure or framework.”

 

Experts said that a protected belief could be easier to argue than trying to define hunters as a minority ethnic group — like Sikhs, Roma or Jews — which Mr. Swales has also proposed.

 

Speaking at a public event in late July, he claimed that his advisers had told him that “the qualifications of an ethnic group, there are five of them — we hit every one, straight in the bull’s-eye,” which he reiterated in interviews with The New York Times.

 

“The legal assessment is that we would qualify for both categories,” he said on Thursday.

 

But he has since backed off from the idea of starting with the minority group argument, saying his team would prepare protected belief arguments instead. “Pick the lowest hanging fruit first,” he said, paraphrasing his legal team.

 

Hunters have already tried, and failed, to argue that bans infringe upon their rights.

 

In 2007, a belief in fox hunting was explicitly denied protection in Scotland’s courts, where a judge found that “a person’s belief in his right to engage in an activity which he carries on for pleasure or recreation, however fervent or passionate,” did not compare to protected beliefs or religion, and therefore would not be covered under human rights law.

 

And in 2009, the European Court of Human Rights unanimously ruled that the ban on fox hunting with dogs did not violate human rights.

 

“If hunting can be shown to be more than a recreational activity, perhaps as part of a belief system in human supremacy over animals or human dominion over the earth, then a protected belief system could work,” Dr. John Adenitire, who teaches animal rights law at Queen Mary, University of London, wrote in an email.

 

For Mr. Swales, it is now or never.

 

His push comes after years of stewing about restrictions on hunting — without, he says, enough of a fight back from the hunting community.

 

“All we do is sit here and talk about it and drink sherry and bemoan and bewail our situation,” he said. “And nobody actually does anything.”

 

Amelia Nierenberg is a breaking news reporter for The Times in London, covering international news More about Amelia Nierenberg


Monday, 26 August 2024

REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE

The Rebel's Wardrobe, by THOMAS STEGE BOJER and BRYAN SZABO

 



By Gestalten (Editor), Bryan Szabo (Editor), Thomas Stege Bojer (Editor)

Comprising THOMAS STEGE BOJER and BRYAN SZABO, Denimhunters is one of the internet's premier denim and heritage menswear authorities. It was founded in 2012 by Stege Bojer, who now serves as the editor-in-chief. Experienced writer and editor Szabo is a contributor to the site, and notably spearheads the writing and research for the Well Made Essentials rugged menswear buying guide.

 

Immersing readers in the world of men’s fashion, The Rebel's Wardrobe explores the surprising origins of our everyday staple items and how they became timeless classics.

From the plain white T-shirt developing into the everyday hero, to the leather jacket cementing its place as a global icon or the chino being originally produced for military purposes, this modern menswear lexicon uses fashion to look at pop culture over the last 100 years, making links between seemingly disparate groups from military to sports.

https://denimhunters.com/author/thomasbryan/






Sunday, 25 August 2024

VOYAGE AROUND QUEEN HB by Craig Brown / Warhol idolised her, Thatcher copied her and Kingsley Amis had a deep fear of farting in her presence: but what was the Queen really like?

 



VOYAGE AROUND QUEEN HB: The new must-read biography of Queen Elizabeth II from the winner of the Baillie Gifford Prize Hardcover – 29 Aug. 2024

by Craig Brown (Author)

 

From one of the funniest writers of our time, the award-winning and Sunday Times bestselling author of One Two Three Four and Ma'am Darling turns his attention to Queen Elizabeth II in an unforgettable and fascinating biography.

 

'Enthralling… deliciously gossipy' MAIL ON SUNDAY

 

'Brilliant' SARAH VINE

 

Virginia Woolf compared her to a caterpillar; Anne Frank kept pictures of her on the wall of her annex; Jimi Hendrix played her tune; Haile Selassie gave her a gold tiara; Dirk Bogarde watched Death in Venice with her; Andy Warhol envied her fame; Donald Trump offended her; E.M. Forster confessed he would have married her, if only she had been a boy.

 

Queen Elizabeth II was famous for longer than anyone who has ever lived. When people spoke of her, they spoke of themselves; when they dreamed of her, they dreamed of themselves. She mirrored their hopes and anxieties. To the optimist, she seemed an optimist; to the pessimist, a pessimist; to the awestruck, charismatic; and to the cynical, humdrum. Though by nature reserved and unassuming, her presence could fill presidents and rock gods with terror. For close to a century, she inhabited the psyche of a nation.

 

Combining biography, essays, cultural history, dream diaries, travelogue and satire, the bestselling and award-winning author of Ma'am Darling and One Two Three Four: The Beatles in Time presents a kaleidoscopic portrait of this most public yet private of sovereigns.

 

'An enthralling reverie on memory, identity, coincidence and meaning – testing, teasing, charming, moving and deceptively wise'RORY STEWART

 

'Completely and utterly brilliant and exquisitely funny and fascinating. This book is, dare I say, majestic. Craig Brown has no peers – I would curtsey to him if I met him' MARINA HYDE

 

'You wouldn’t think the world needed another book about Queen Elizabeth – but how wrong you’d be. Craig Brown’s wholly original and enthralling biography is absolute heaven from start to finish’ INDIA KNIGHT

 

'Craig Brown continues to reinvent the art of biography… utterly fascinating' JASON COWLEY

 

Craig Brown's book One Two Three Four won the Baillie Gifford Prize for Non-Fiction in November 2020.




Books

Warhol idolised her, Thatcher copied her and Kingsley Amis had a deep fear of farting in her presence: but what was the Queen really like?

 

From terrifying guests with invitations to ‘informal’ lunches to her relationship with the first female prime minister - Craig Brown looks for the woman behind the crown

 

Craig Brown

Sat 24 Aug 2024 10.00 CEST

https://www.theguardian.com/books/article/2024/aug/24/i-didnt-imagine-the-queen-was-actually-going-to-kill-thatcher-but-it-was-quite-tense?utm_term=66cad6a14db162c608ceed66bfd9e72e&utm_campaign=Bookmarks&utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&CMP=bookmarks_email

 

When people looked at the Queen, what did they see?

On one level, the answer is obvious: they saw a living representation of the face they had absorbed, often without noticing, almost every day of their lives: on television, on coins and postcards, in newspapers and books and magazines, online, on walls, in galleries and on stamps.

 

Those presented to the Queen found the experience discombobulating. Though it may have been the first time they had ever set eyes on her, they were often more familiar with her face than with their own. Hers was the most photographed face in human history.

 

So to meet the Queen was apt to make you feel giddy or woozy, as though a well-loved family portrait, familiar since childhood, handed down from generation to generation, had suddenly sprung to life. For most, the experience was unnerving, even terrifying.

 

She was what we made of her. A friend of mine, a magazine editor, was asked to one of the Queen’s regular “informal” lunches for distinguished people from different walks of life. As he was ushered in, a senior courtier suggested that he might care to spend a penny. When he said he didn’t think it necessary, the courtier advised him it was best to be on the safe side: one or two previous guests had “had an accident” upon being presented.

 

The comic novelist Kingsley Amis was invited to one such lunch in 1975. “He had been terrified for days about the unpremeditated fart or belch and was on a strict non-bean-and-onion diet,” one of his oldest friends, Robert Conquest, gossiped sneakily to another, Philip Larkin. His fear reignited itself 15 years later. Before going to Buckingham Palace to receive a knighthood, Amis grew so frightened of defecating in front of the Queen that, in the words of his son Martin, he “had his doctor lay down a firewall of Imodium, and there was some doubt, afterwards, whether he would ever again go to the toilet”.

 

Perhaps she was less a painting, more a mirror. With her interior world screened from public view, and her conversation restricted by protocol to questions not answers, she became a human looking-glass: the light cast by fame bounced off her, and back on to those she faced. To the optimist, she seemed an optimist; to the pessimist, a pessimist. To the insider, she appeared intimate, to the outsider, distant; to the cynic, prosaic, and to the awestruck, charismatic. Having sat next to her at a banquet in Buckingham Palace in 1956, the Soviet general secretary Nikita Khrushchev came away with the impression that she was “the sort of young woman you’d be likely to meet walking along Gorky Street on a balmy summer afternoon”.

 

When people spoke of her, they spoke of themselves, and when they dreamed of her, they dreamed of themselves. She reflected their hopes and anxieties. “Princess Elizabeth and Philip are back in town, and across the street tonight,” wrote the troubled young suspense writer Patricia Highsmith, staying in Rome on the night of 19 April 1951. “Traffic bottlenecked & everyone angry & bewildered.”

 

I met her once, almost by chance. I was 20 years old, and a friend invited me to his parents’ 25th wedding anniversary. His parents were titled and unusually wealthy: their Kensington house came with a fake bookshelf in the sitting room, which led into a ballroom.

 

This ballroom was where the party was being held. I entered it early with my bunch of friends. I imagine we made an effort to smarten up, but we were, for the most part, a scruffy lot.

 

I must have been aware that the Queen was there, but I had no thought of meeting her. I felt she was for the real guests, the grownups. So it came as a surprise when, crossing from one side of the crowded room to the other, I bumped into my friend’s father, a very courteous man. “Ah, Craig,” he said. “Would you like to be presented?”

 

So there I was, a second later, shaking hands with the Queen. “Craig has been writing some amusing articles for Punch magazine,” said my host.

 

“Really? That must be fun,” she replied. I took this as a clear sign that she wanted to know all about Punch and Private Eye and the difference between the two magazines. I was unstoppable. Like most people she encountered, I found myself talking gibberish. I told her all about English humour, and Wodehouse and Monty Python and Just William and Marty Feldman, not forgetting Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll. “How interesting,” she would chip in, every now and then, or sometimes, “Most amusing”.

 

As I kept talking, I noticed that, every now and then, she would take a step back. So I would take a step forward, and she would take a step back, and so on. We might have continued like this for ever – Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire – had my friend’s father not intervened on her behalf, taking her off to speak to someone else, and leaving me to make my way across the room, and back to reality.

 

Andy Warhol and the Queen were near contemporaries: the Queen was born in Mayfair, London, on 21 April 1926 and Andy Warhol was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on 6 August 1928.

 

I spent a few days shadowing Warhol on his visit to Britain in 1979, and noticed they had other things in common, too. They had both met an inordinate number of people (one out of choice, the other out of duty); both employed a similar stonewall defence in interactions, somehow appearing to participate in conversation without surrendering anything of themselves; both employed generalised enthusiasm in a truncated form. For the Queen, “How interesting” or “Really?” was usually sufficient to keep a conversation ticking along; Warhol was also fond of “interesting”, but more often employed its transatlantic equivalent: “Gee” or “Gee, that’s great”.

 

For meeting strangers, these non-committal, reflex exclamations were usually more than enough. The job of 20th-century celebrities was to mirror the expectations of those they encountered.

 

Warhol and the Queen both preferred to keep their feelings and opinions to themselves. “She inclines to say less rather than more,” Prince Philip once observed of his wife. Her critics would harp on about her blankness. Polly Toynbee once described her as “the past mistress of nothingness”. Similar observations were often levelled at Warhol, too, though in the bleak world of contemporary art “nothingness” was often taken for praise.

 

The Queen took her fame as a given. It was part of her, something she had to live with, like a birthmark. But Warhol, unknown until his early 30s, never stopped hankering for more. “I want to be as famous as the Queen of England,” he once said.

 

On one visit to England, Warhol visited Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren’s punk store on the King’s Road, which had recently been renamed Seditionaries. In the aftermath of punk, it had transformed from a revolutionary Situationist outpost into a pricey tourist destination for punk memorabilia, though Warhol failed to notice the difference. Among the retro souvenirs were T-shirts bearing the Queen’s head, rendered punk by the addition of the cut-out newspaper headlines “GOD Save THE QUEEN” and “SEX PISTOLS” over her eyes and mouth.

 

Three years on, Warhol’s dealer wrote to the Queen asking for permission to use her portrait in a series of screenprints. Ten days later, he received this letter back:

 

Dear Mr Mulder,

I am commanded by The Queen to acknowledge your letter of 6th September about Mr. Warhol’s plans to paint portraits of Their Majesties The Queens of Great Britain, Denmark and The Netherlands. While The Queen would certainly not wish

to put any obstacles in Mr. Warhol’s way, she would not dream of offering any comment on this idea.

 

Yours sincerely, W. Heseltine

 

By 1985, Warhol’s screenprints – brightly coloured versions of Grugeon’s original 1975 portraits – were ready. Warhol rode in Prince Rupert Loewenstein’s Bentley to the opening of his Reigning Queens exhibition on West Broadway and Green Street. He left early, filled with self-loathing. “I’ve hit rock bottom,” he confessed to his diary.

 

Nevertheless, Warhol’s personal interest in royalty remained constant. Few, if any, British artists shared his keen, almost feverish, fascination with even the most humdrum Royal goings-on. On a trip to London on 9 July 1986, he noted, “This is the week in between Wimbledon and Fergie’s marriage, so it was exciting.” And two weeks later: “I’ve been watching this stuff on Fergie and I wonder why doesn’t the Queen Mother get married again.”

 

He had once taken a fancy to the Queen’s second son, but with time his interest faded. “Prince Andrew has gotten so ugly, he’s looking like his mother,” he noted in his diary on 11 February 1987. This was to be one of his last entries: 11 days later, he underwent a routine operation on his gallbladder, and died.

 

But a quarter of a century after his death, Andy Warhol secured himself a permanent home in Buckingham Palace. For an undisclosed sum, the Royal Collection purchased the portrait of the Queen from the Reigning Queens portfolio in its expensive “Royal” edition, sprinkled with diamond dust, lending it a sparkly effect.

 

“Warhol has simplified Grugeon’s portrait so that all that remains is a mask-like face,” runs the official Royal Collection catalogue entry. “All character has been removed and we are confronted by a symbol of royal power.”

 

Another contemporary of the Queen, just six months her senior, was Margaret Thatcher. The 23-year-old Margaret Roberts first set eyes on her future monarch at Newmarket races in 1949. She immediately succumbed to a common delusion. “SAW PRINCESS ELIZABETH, AND SHE SAW ME!” she wrote in excited capitals in a boyfriend’s diary.

 

Thirteen years later, by now a married woman and the Conservative MP for Finchley, Margaret Thatcher was pleased to be invited to a reception at Buckingham Palace. “The Queen has a much stronger personality than most people realise and she is certainly not overshadowed by the Duke of Edinburgh,” she told her father in a letter home. As she gazed at the Queen that day, was she, like so many others, unconsciously thinking of herself?

 

Once she became prime minister, Mrs Thatcher would visit the Queen every Tuesday for her weekly audience in Buckingham Palace. These audiences were, says Mrs Thatcher’s authorised biographer Charles Moore, “rarely productive, because Mrs Thatcher was nervous. The Queen noted the way in which her prime minister could never relax in her presence. ‘Why does she always sit on the edge of her seat?’ she asked.”

 

The relationship between the two most famous and powerful women in the country was, in the words of the Queen’s private secretary, William Heseltine, “absolutely correct and perhaps not very cosy”. Heseltine felt this might have been at least partly the fault of the Queen, “for not coming in when Mrs Thatcher drew breath and turning the talk into more of a discussion”. For her part, the Queen seems to have been intrigued by what went on in her prime minister’s head.

 

“Do you think Mrs Thatcher will ever change?” she once asked Lord Carrington, Thatcher’s first foreign secretary.

 

“Oh no, Ma’am,” replied Carrington. “She would not be Mrs Thatcher if she did.”

 

How the two women interacted became a topic of speculation.

 

Susannah Constantine, who had for some time been the girlfriend of Princess Margaret’s son, Viscount Linley, once witnessed a tussle over a teapot between the Queen and Mrs Thatcher.

 

In 1984, at the age of 22, she went to stay at Balmoral. The Thatchers were fellow guests. “While Denis was actually very relaxed, Thatcher was awkward,” she recalled. In the afternoon, six or seven gathered by the side of the river for tea and sandwiches in a hut “the size of a suburban front room … one of them was the prime minister and another the Queen”.

 

A large teapot, known as Brown Betty, was ready on the table, “like the Queen herself, unfrivolous, sturdy and practical. Fit for purpose.”

 

As was her usual practice, the Queen lifted the teapot as Susannah Constantine held out her china cup. “As if by magic, a redundant Thatcher appeared at her side like a spectre. ‘Let me do that, Your Majesty.’”

 

Without further ado, Mrs Thatcher put her hand beneath the teapot to take its weight, but “her offer was met with unexpected resistance from the Queen”. Not knowing what to do, Constantine lowered her cup a little, whereupon Mrs Thatcher “tightened her fingertips around the base and tried once again to take the pot from its owner, but no … Evidently the Queen had no intention of relinquishing the fat, brown pot. A further, more determined pull from Thatcher was met with an equally resolute hold from Her Majesty.”

 

Constantine put her cup and saucer back down on the table. “I didn’t imagine the Queen was actually going to kill Thatcher … but it was quite tense. Then all of a sudden, without warning, the pot was free: released back to its rightful owner. Thatcher had thrown in the towel.”

 

Few who witnessed them together could resist gossiping about their peculiar dynamic; any signs of friction were beadily chronicled. For instance, on 10 September 1985, Kenneth Rose wrote in his diary that the Queen had complained to Lady Trumpington, “She stays too long and talks too much. She has lived too long among men.”

 

Gossip like this continued for many years after Mrs Thatcher’s fall from power. On 1 June 1997, Rose was Isaiah Berlin’s guest at “a sumptuous tea”. Afterwards, Rose wrote in his diary that Berlin had told him that Mrs Thatcher and the Queen had been at daggers drawn over the Commonwealth:

 

“Both the Queen and Thatcher came to a gala at Covent Garden, but sat in different parts of the house. In the interval the Queen let it be known that she did not want to meet Mrs Thatcher – who was sent to an upper room for drinks, as was Isaiah. Thatcher then said she would like to say goodbye to the Queen, a request that was ignored.”

 

But even after a decade or more as prime minister, Margaret Thatcher’s sense of old-fashioned awe in the presence of her monarch never left her. On Christmas Day, she would still make sure that lunch was finished in time to watch the Queen’s speech on television. “She revered both the constitution and the monarch,” recalled her devoted bushy-browed press secretary Sir Bernard Ingham. “That was manifested in the way she curtsied. I’ve never seen anyone go so low and I wondered if she’d ever get up. It used to be a bit of a joke – how low will she go this time?”

 

As her years in Downing Street rolled on, some observers began to notice that Mrs Thatcher was beginning, in a strange, shape-shifting way, to morph into the monarch. Little by little, she took on many of the Queen’s most familiar props: her thick-heeled patent-leather shoes, her handbag and, on formal occasions, her regal cloaks and gowns. She even started adopting the royal “we”, employing it in increasingly bizarre ways. “We are a grandmother,” she told reporters after the birth of her son Mark’s baby boy.

 

For her part, the Queen was known to find the Thatchers a little comical in their efforts to please. The Duke of Devonshire told James Lees-Milne that the Queen was “quite indiscreet” about the Thatchers. “She said to one of the equerries at the Palace while awaiting them, ‘Don’t make me laugh when Denis bows from the waist.’”

 

After the 1982 Falklands conflict, some felt Mrs Thatcher had usurped the role of the Queen by taking the salute at the victory parade; her visit to the Falklands the following January resembled a royal progress. “The constant references to ‘her’ troops proclaim that this is a royal visit,” wrote a commentator in the Times. After national disasters, she would lose no time in visiting the victims. “In the event of death or serious injury” read a joke badge, popular among her opponents, “I do not wish to be visited by Margaret Thatcher”.

 

In 1985, two psychiatrists, Dr Ian Deary and Dr Simon Wessely, reported on a new phenomenon in the British Medical Journal. Four of their patients suffering from advanced dementia – unable to remember their own names, or what year it was – were nevertheless able to name Mrs Thatcher as the prime minister. A study of files from 1963 and 1968 revealed one further oddity. In those years, Queen Elizabeth II had been identified with much greater frequency than either of the two prime ministers. But by 1983 “Mrs Thatcher … was clearly more prominent in our patients’ minds than the monarch.”

 

“We have become a nation with two monarchs,” observed the political commentator (and later novelist) Robert Harris in 1988. “ … On her housewife/superstar progress around the world, Margaret Thatcher has steadily become more like the Queen of England than the real thing.”

 

Some sensed a competitive edge in relations between the two women. During one of her annual diplomatic receptions at the Palace, the Queen noticed that her prime minister, feeling a little faint, had decided to take a seat. “Oh, look, she’s keeled over again,” she observed, coolly.

 

But if there was friction between them, it vanished with Mrs Thatcher’s departure from office. After giving the Queen notice of her resignation, “She was deeply upset,” recalled Lord Fellowes; “ … when she emerged, she was in a very distressed state and unable to speak.” Back in Downing Street, “she went straight upstairs to the flat and ran to the bathroom and she absolutely wept,” recalled her personal assistant. “She said: ‘It’s when people are kind to you that you feel it most. The Queen has been so kind to me.’”

 

In 2005, an 80th birthday party was thrown for Margaret Thatcher at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Knightsbridge. By now, a series of strokes had rendered her mind hazy. As she saw the Queen approaching, she asked, “Is it all right if I touch her?” She held out her hand as she curtsied, and the Queen took it and steadied her.

 

“That was unusual for the British, who know you are not supposed to touch the Queen,” observed her former private secretary for foreign affairs, Charles Powell. “But they were hand in hand, and the Queen led her around the room.”


Saturday, 24 August 2024

A Gentleman's London, Episode Fourteen: Gaziano & Girling


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Friday, 23 August 2024

Rowing in Britain – 24 July 2012 English edition by Julie Summers

 



Rowing in Britain Paperback – 24 July 2012

English edition  by Julie Summers (auteur)

Boat races and regattas are mainstays of the British summer — but where did these races originate and how have they become so important a part of our culture? Historian, writer and novice sculler Julie Summers here explains the history of British rowing as a competitive sport from the early nineteenth century to the present day. She then profiles the three most famous rowing events: the Boat Race, rowed on the incoming tide from Putney to Mortlake in spring; Henley Royal Regatta, which takes place on the first weekend of July; and the Olympic Games, which have yielded some of the greatest British Olympians of all time, including Sir Steve Redgrave, Sir Matthew Pinsent and Jack Beresford.

 

Rowing in Britain

A brief history of rowing over the last 200 years

This book was commissioned by the Shire Library in January for a summer publication date so it was written at indecent speed but with great passion. Rowing is in our family’s blood and although I came to it late, I have a great affection for it. This book charts, in briefest form, the history of rowing in Britain since it was first practised at the public schools in the late eighteenth century. It opens with a show-stopping race at Henley Royal Regatta in 2007 when Shrewsbury School beat the Canadian champions by one foot in the final of the Princess Elizabeth Challenge Cup. Five years on a member of that school boy crew stroked the Harvard first Eight to victory in the Ladies Challenge Plate. They beat Leander by … One Foot.

Sunday Images / The Henley Regatta Badges


THE REGATTA ENCLOSURE

The Regatta Enclosure is situated on the Berkshire bank, just downstream from the Stewards' Enclosure. It is open to competitors, supporters and the general public. The Regatta Enclosure offers seating alongside the river and in an open grandstand. There is also an excellent covered restaurant, an outside dining area and a bar.
Regatta Enclosure badges are valid for the whole day and must be worn at all times within the Enclosure. Badges are also valid for entry into the Boat Tent area .

Stewards' Enclosure
The enclosure situated on the Berkshire side, adjacent to the last part of the course and the finish line. It comprises two covered grandstands, a restaurant marquee, several bars, a bandstand and so on - all set in immaculately prepared lawns. It is only open to the Stewards of the Regatta, members of the Stewards' Enclosure and their guests. Overseas competitors are also given the opportunity to purchase tickets.

The Stewards' Enclosure as understood today, an enclosure open to members (elected by the Committee of Management of the Regatta) and their guests, came into being in 1919 with a membership of 300. This grew to 704 in 1939 and 1,500 in 1956. In 1980 the Stewards set a ceiling of 5,000. The waiting list for membership of the Stewards Enclosure is now several years long, although preference is given to people who have previously competed at the regatta. The waiting list has grown rapidly since the 1970s, when membership could be applied for and granted on the same day.

The social position of the event means that some in the Stewards' Enclosure (and elsewhere along the course) may have no interest in the actual rowing.

The Stewards' Enclosure is also known for a strict enforcement of its dress code. Men are required to wear a "lounge suit, blazer and flannels, or evening dress, and a tie". Women are required to wear a dress or skirt that covers their knees, and are "encouraged to wear a hat" (although women wearing hats is often frowned upon in higher rowing circles). Anyone not suitably dressed can be refused entry, no matter their prestige in rowing or elsewhere. Mobile phone use is also prohibited.

The regatta prizegiving takes place in the Stewards' Enclosure after the conclusion of racing on Sunday.