Instructions For the Judicious Use of the Handkerchief

Once upon a time there were so many fashion rules, but like gloves, and hats – sigh – they have been tossed aside for the most part. For instance, the art of wielding a handkerchief has been largely lost, alas. But I say, don’t cast that handkerchief aside like an old tissue! It is a considerable weapon of mass flirtation in the right woman’s hands.

You’ve all heard of that old cliché of the woman who sends her hanky fluttering to the floor, and has men racing from all directions to catch it before it should be sullied in the dust at her feet? I remember some amusing comics of Veronica having both Archie and Reggie at her feet in just such a fashion. But there is a right way and a wrong way to attempt this technique.

Observe: it doesn’t do to appear too arrogant – even the Princess Bride Buttercup learned eventually to mind her manners. Just imagine if it didn’t work: you’d be left with egg on your face. And then you’d really need the hanky, but it’d be all dirty by then. One must always think ahead.

This is better. Subtlety and nonchalance is key. “Oh did I drop my hanky? I didn’t notice. Thank you kind sir for retrieving it for me. Would I like you to treat me to a drink in yonder bar? Why, that would be lovely!” Heap on the flattery. Men lap that stuff up.

Here is what Anne Fogarty, a New York fashion designer said in 1959:

Handkerchiefs have always been a leading feminine weapon, a widely accepted cliché for attracting attention by fluttering or dropping to the floor … tissues and hankies have a separate function. Tissues for utility; hankies for coquetry.

The kind of hanky you choose says a lot about you too. A spotless little white lace handkerchief must meet with universal approval, while a colourfully printed hanky gives quite a different message. A source from 1894, Enquire Within Upon Everything declares:

There is considerable art in using this accessory of dress and comfort. Avoid extreme patterns, styles and colours. Never be without a handkerchief. Hold it freely in the hand, and do not roll it into a ball. Hold it by the centre, and let the corners form a fanlike expansion. Avoid using it too much. With some persons the habit becomes troublesome and unpleasant.

Tears of course are a world-renowned feminine weapon too, but they must be employed judiciously. If you have not yet done so, consider studying the most effective method of crying. Crocodile tears will not achieve your object. This next illustration depicts incorrect usage of a handkerchief. The effect is comical.

It is far better to adopt a suitably woebegone expression while delicately dabbing at the corners of one’s eyes (with handkerchief fanned attractively). Tips: widen eyes slightly; allow lower lip to tremble; catch breath on a little sob. A gentle sniff or two may be endearing and elicit sympathy from the gruffest stalwart. If you can manage a sparkling tear on the end of your eyelashes, even better. Thus the Delicate Flower catches her man and has her way with him!

Margaret Story, a fashion and etiquette writer stated in 1924: Once in a while we see a little lady with ‘a saucy twinkle in her eye’ from whose tailored suit pocket peeps a dainty little lace handkerchief. It is irresistible because we know she ‘knows better’. This, I confess, has me perplexed. Was this generally considered too manly, or too slovenly in 1924? It is always best to avoid any appearance of vulgarity, so I shall leave this to your discretion.

Next time on the SNAP Flirtation channel: correct techniques for little fingers and twisting men thereon. Stay tuned!

Quotations from A to Z of Style by Amy de la Haye (V&A Publishing, 2011)

If the Cap Fits …

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

The Vintage Hat Series: 1920s red velvet pixie cloche by S. J. Maughan of Convent GardenAnother hat in my collection is this red velvet pixie cloche, an original chapeau from the 1920s.

I purchased it on eBay, from a UK seller. They had photographed it completely flat, so it was difficult to visualise how it would look on, and the measurements were suspect. However, they simply couldn’t be bothered answering my queries. (Note to any online sellers reading this: service is important.) Annoyed by their inability to reply to emails, I sadly decided not to bid. (That would punish them.)

However, months later I happened upon the hat again: it had been relisted. 1920s … cloche … red velvet, extremely low asking price … It all added up to one thing: I couldn’t say no. If I recall correctly, I believe I won the auction for a measly £7 or so.

When the hat finally arrived, I fortunately found it did fit me even though the original supplied measurements indicated it was an inch too small. It took some time for me to work out the correct way to wear it though. Because this looks ridiculous:

Looking sillyI look like one of those red-hatted garden gnomes (how apt that the cap was designed by a milliner based in Convent Garden), and I strongly suspect this is the reason why the seller ignored my polite request to see the hat on a model. Worn this way, however, looks very very cute, don’t you think? There is a positive WORLD of difference between a pixie and a gnome! 

Looking demure

A Tiny Tiny Tale of Tiny Tiny Earrings

Onyx, sterling silver and malachite stud earringsUsually I adore anything that can be described variously as enormous, mad, outré, outrageous, wild, bizarre, eccentric, quirky, whimsical and so on. Often friends, seeing some strange and indescribable item in a vintage store, will say to me, “You could get away with that Princess Tatiana.” (Sometimes they say, ‘your Royal Highness’.) I try to take that as a compliment – as I am quite certain it is meant.

But occasionally I like tiny little things too. Like these tiny, tiny stud earrings. I have collected a few pairs that suit me when I am in a rare wallflower mood. One day, many years ago now, a dish of these tiny little earrings fell into my bottomless laundry basket. I was aghast, for I was unable to find them all again.

It was not until years later, when I finally reached the bottom of the abyss that is the laundry basket (it was a veritable laundering miracle, one of those halcyon days when you have no housework to do) that I found the missing tiny tiny earrings. Joy!

Now I’m just waiting for a minimalist wallflower mood to unaccountably wash over me so I can wear a pair of them again …

April Fish!

One of the silliest holidays on the calendar celebrated by many countries around the world is April Fool’s Day, with the media of many countries often getting in on the act too for grand scale pranks.

Quite a different custom prevails in France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Italy. Children and adults take part in this tradition of attaching paper fish to one another’s backs and shouting, “April fish!” One Swiss work colleague of mine has fond childhood memories of this innocent pastime. The custom possibly harks back to a French poet of the sixteenth century who referred to a poisson d’avril – an April fool, which literally translates as April fish. 

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries April fish postcards became popular in France, a charming excuse to send quaint greetings to a friend. And it’s a fair excuse to eat fish for dinner tonight too.

Scroll down for more April smiles.

Click on image to see more vintage April fish postcardsClick through to buy a set of 25 antique French postcards, at Etsy store French Country Life

Crimes Against Fashion: Running Shoes Edition

I must apologise for this dowdy picture (above). I know it is not what you are accustomed to seeing here on SNAP, but sometimes shock tactics are required to get an important message across.

Running shoes have been expressly designed for one thing: running. They are not for walking to work in, no matter how practical and comfortable it may seem in the heat of the moment. Why? Mismatched with business attire, especially black opaque stockings, they form one of the ugliest sartorial statements of the modern era. Not only are they in serious breach of good taste, they make legs look ugly to boot. They are inelegant. They make a dangerous three-quarter-length skirt look dowdy and unflattering.

Did I mention they are ugly?

If you must be comfortable, or need to protect your precious suede peeptoes from the elements during your commute, please invest in some attractive walking shoes, and you can save your treads for the running track where they will be of the most benefit.

Thank you for your attention, and SNAP trusts that offenders will cease and desist in this anti-sartorial behaviour.

This has been a community service announcement.