Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Oh Captain, My Captain

'O Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells...' - Whitman

Point noted. Too many watchings of Dead Poets Society.
And I totally would have attended that school had I been the right gender for it. Preppy male chauvinistic goodness.
And yes this is another one of my trademark 'If only I were a dandy man' rants. Which probably happen far too often for my own good. Resulting in the following introduction: 'Hey, this is Rebecca, she's a transvestite in disguise.' Awkward. Shall we move on? Yes. We shall.

But there's something inherently fascinating about the gentlemen of a bygone era. The sartorial element. The paraphernalia. Gin and bourbon. Because you have to drink like a man. None of that retarded alco-pop shit. Cuban cigars. Pipe smoking. Tuxedos. Bowties. Initialled handkerchiefs (something I am proud to say my father still does). Going to an old school barber. Retro jazz. Neat haircuts. Courting as opposed to dating. Button down shirts. Perfectly tailored suits. The idea of bespoke. It's very Take Ivy. And somewhat of an unhealthy obsession.

And so you can imagine the happiness level upon stumbling into Captains of Industry. Stumbling is probably the wrong way to put it. Honestly, I stalked it. As you do. Because clearly we're all normal people here. And nothing (not even my retarded geographic skills) could stop me. And it was my first port of call after the trauma that was exams. My inner dandy man (yes you know him very well...you and I both...) nearly died of happiness. Because he'd totally live here. Even if there were genuine dandy men (of the actual right gender) giving him kind of weird looks. 'Um...why is there some dorky Asian girl drooling on our floor and like totally invading our space?' With it's kind of grungy, very arty-urban 'oh-so-hidden-in-an-alley-and-up-a-rickety-flight-of-stairs' aesthetic. Instant cred. And the glorious loft space with sunlight streaming in through the windows. Vintage typewriters. Retro lamps. Travel trunks. Old magazines. Empty spirit bottles. It's enough to make a retro gentleman swoon.

And why wouldn't you live here? Retro barber. Check. Bespoke suiting service. Check.

Oh...oh...and wait for this...Handmade shoes. Yes. Because inner dandy man and I had a conversation. And we decided (yeah it was totally his fault) that wrong gender or not, you can never go wrong with a pair of totally made to order dandy man shoes by the lovely J.S. Roberts. Hand-dyed and made to your specifications (I kind of possibly spastically drooled through the whole process. Literally) In all their classic, old school Anglophilic glory. There is currently I believe a massive four month waiting list for these babies. But totally worth the wait. Oh and the sad thrill of seeing your name go up the list. Because I'm cool like that really.

In any case, whether you're actually a boy in search of that much-needed retro sartorial goodness or a girl with an inner-dandy-man problem or something in between (like a tranny in disguise) - the noble Captains do serve a mean coffee and apparently some very yummy nosh.

Lunch date anyone? Like...I kind of need a valid excuse to re-stalk the place. Really.

Lots o' dandy love



Do yourselves a favour and pop into Captains at Level 1, 2 Somerset Place, Melbourne (Handy hint for the geographically retarded of us...it's ridiculously near the GPO)

Or perve at the website: http://captainsofindustry.com.au

PS. And thus begins the saga of the hand-made jodphur boot! But you can drool and swoon at the rest of James' creations at his lovely website: http://jsroberts.com.au
Even better - have a chat to the man himself, because he really is lovely with a capital L and talented with a capital T...

No comments:

Post a Comment