Before there was a Fedora Lounge, a Cad, a Styleforum, or any other such system where electronic typewriter users could transmit messages concerning necessities such as felt hats and fine teas, an idea took hold. That idea has been made available to everyone through the magic of airwaves and electricity (or some such scientific endeavor), and pen has been set to paper to declare a Manifesto:
The Chap Manifesto
Society has become sick with some nameless malady of the soul. We have become the playthings of corporations intent on converting our world into a gargantuan shopping precinct. Pleasantness and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age - an age when men doffed their hats to the ladies, and small children could be counted upon to mind one's Jack Russell while one took a mild and bitter in the local hostelry.
Instead, we live in a world where children are huge hooded creatures lurking in the shadows; the local hostelry has been taken over by a large chain that specialises in chilled lager, whose principal function is to aggravate the nervous system. Needless to say, the Jack Russell is no longer there upon one's return.
The Chap proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. We must show our children that the things worth fighting for are not the latest plastic plimsolls but a shiny pair of brogues. We must wean them off their alcopops and teach them how to mix martinis. Let the young not be ashamed of their flabby paunches, which they try to hide in their nylon tracksuits - we shall show them how a well-tailored suit can disguise the most ruined of bodies. Finally, let us capitalise on youth's love of peculiar argot Ð only replace their pidgin ghetto-speak with fruity bons mots and dry witticisms.
It is time for Chaps and Chapettes from all walks of life to stand up and be counted. But fear not, ye languid and ye plain idle: ours is a revolution based not on getting up early and exerting oneself - but a revolution that can be achieved by a single raised eyebrow over a monocle; the ordering of a glass of port in All Bar One; the wearing of a particularly fetching cardigan upon a visit to one's bookmaker. In other words: a revolution of panache. We shall bewilder the masses with seams in our trousers that could cut paper, trilbies angled so rakishly that traffic comes to a standstill; and by refusing the bland, watery substances that are foisted upon us by faceless corporations, we shall bring the establishment to its knees, begging for sartorial advice and a nip from our hip flasks.
Now, a manifesto is one thing, but action is quite another. Mr. Temple and Mr. Darkwood collaborated to author a bound text wherein a novice chappist might hone his or her skills to earn the title of Chap. Not being much for elaborate titles, they titled this text The Chap Manifesto.
Offered here is a copy of that text for $35 with complimentary shipping within the continental U.S. Through the examination of various outlets, one can determine with relative ease that such a text of rare distinction cannot be had for a lesser sum within the U.S. In fact, Amazonian savages who have discovered the power of electricity are offering this text for no less than $64.
This volume of wisdom is in nearly new condition, with sharp corners, a tight binding, and a dust-jacket that bears neither rips nor dust. I have read its words and felt its Truth, and I now wish to pass it along so that another might be reborn as a true Chap.
When words fail, electronic paintings must suffice.
The Chap Manifesto
Society has become sick with some nameless malady of the soul. We have become the playthings of corporations intent on converting our world into a gargantuan shopping precinct. Pleasantness and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age - an age when men doffed their hats to the ladies, and small children could be counted upon to mind one's Jack Russell while one took a mild and bitter in the local hostelry.
Instead, we live in a world where children are huge hooded creatures lurking in the shadows; the local hostelry has been taken over by a large chain that specialises in chilled lager, whose principal function is to aggravate the nervous system. Needless to say, the Jack Russell is no longer there upon one's return.
The Chap proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. We must show our children that the things worth fighting for are not the latest plastic plimsolls but a shiny pair of brogues. We must wean them off their alcopops and teach them how to mix martinis. Let the young not be ashamed of their flabby paunches, which they try to hide in their nylon tracksuits - we shall show them how a well-tailored suit can disguise the most ruined of bodies. Finally, let us capitalise on youth's love of peculiar argot Ð only replace their pidgin ghetto-speak with fruity bons mots and dry witticisms.
It is time for Chaps and Chapettes from all walks of life to stand up and be counted. But fear not, ye languid and ye plain idle: ours is a revolution based not on getting up early and exerting oneself - but a revolution that can be achieved by a single raised eyebrow over a monocle; the ordering of a glass of port in All Bar One; the wearing of a particularly fetching cardigan upon a visit to one's bookmaker. In other words: a revolution of panache. We shall bewilder the masses with seams in our trousers that could cut paper, trilbies angled so rakishly that traffic comes to a standstill; and by refusing the bland, watery substances that are foisted upon us by faceless corporations, we shall bring the establishment to its knees, begging for sartorial advice and a nip from our hip flasks.
Now, a manifesto is one thing, but action is quite another. Mr. Temple and Mr. Darkwood collaborated to author a bound text wherein a novice chappist might hone his or her skills to earn the title of Chap. Not being much for elaborate titles, they titled this text The Chap Manifesto.
Offered here is a copy of that text for $35 with complimentary shipping within the continental U.S. Through the examination of various outlets, one can determine with relative ease that such a text of rare distinction cannot be had for a lesser sum within the U.S. In fact, Amazonian savages who have discovered the power of electricity are offering this text for no less than $64.
This volume of wisdom is in nearly new condition, with sharp corners, a tight binding, and a dust-jacket that bears neither rips nor dust. I have read its words and felt its Truth, and I now wish to pass it along so that another might be reborn as a true Chap.
When words fail, electronic paintings must suffice.
