Bohemian Dress and Lounge Lizards
-in various books by Dorothy L Sayers
I’m doing some extra
posts on clothes in the books of Dorothy L Sayers, based on my recent talk for the DLS Society, and the title of this one seems self-explanatory. Lord Peter Wimsey is a
dapper man about town who is always perfectly dressed in normal life – but
occasionally he has to venture forth in disguise.
In Have His Carcase (1932) Lord Peter says to his man Bunter
"I wish to appear in my
famous impersonation of the perfect Lounge Lizard -- imitation très
difficile."
"Very good, my lord. I suggest the fawn-coloured suit we do not care for,
with the autumn leaf socks and our outsize cigarette holder."
"As you will Bunter . . . we must stoop to conquer."
This picture is by Rex Whistler and shows Cecil Beaton - not really a lounge lizard but very much has the look. There is an excellent all-purpose Lounge LIzard picture, which I do recommend, used for Mr Tallboy and his friend in a recent Murder Must Advertise entry. Commenters thought it had a look of the Have His Carcase professional dancers. And so gives me the opportunity to mention the band-leader who features with this unimproveable phrase:
‘you know the sort, all lah-di-dah and snakeskin shoes’
which reminded me of the line in a Louis MacNeice poem, also of the 1930s,
Their knickers are made of crêpe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python
– the female equivalent.
In The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club (1928), Lord Peter consults Bunter on whether his tweed is quite right – ‘a trifle more pronounced in colour and pattern than Wimsey usually permitted himself’. Again, he trusts Bunter’s judgement – the valet thinks the look is ‘affable’, which is what Lord Peter is going for as he questions people.
In Whose Body? Bunter prevents Lord Peter from leaving the
Piccadilly flat: He is rushing off to a lunch party -
'Not in those trousers, my lord’, said Mr Bunter, blocking
the way to the door with deferential firmness.
-very much in the manner of Jeeves in the PG Wodehouse books.
Again in Whose Body? - the author is apparently very
impressed that Lord Peter can tie his own tie – Bunter has been sent off on a
job, and ‘he [ie Lord Peter], selected a dark-green tie to match his
socks and tied it accurately without hesitation or the slightest compression of
his lip’ – honestly, not that impressed myself that he can do this. (though in Unpleasantness
at the Bellona Club, Lord Peter tells a story against himself where Bunter
is too busy with his photography jobs to come and tie his tie). Ties like this
maybe.
In the short story The Haunted Policeman
(in Striding Folly collection), Lord Peter wants to dress as an
artist-type, and to achieve this borrows a tie from Harriet – ‘the orange of
the desired Liberty creation gleaming in a friendly way…He put it on, and
observed with pleasure that the effect was Bohemian beyond description... On her
it looked rather well, on him, completely abominable.'
DLS herself was rather partial to wearing ties…colour not known.
Often Lord Peter’s investigations take him to a Bohemian party or the Soviet club, perhaps in the company of sculptress Marjorie Phelps – I see her as wearing a necktie as well as her smock.
In Clouds of Witness,
again, at the Soviet club we meet
a thin, eager young woman in a Russian blouse, Venetian beads, a Hungarian shawl and a Spanish comb, looking like a personification of the United Front of the "Internationale."
These are sketches for stage costumes for
a Russian ballet company.
And these are young women in Berlin in the 1930s, getting ready for a party, definitely with a Bohemian look.
I think they'd enjoy a DLS party - but then wouldn't we all?
The Lord Peter Wimsey novels are all featured on the blog, some several times - you can use the author tabs at the top, or the DLS tag below to find the posts.
Top picture from State Library of New South Wales, a bohemian cafe in Sydney.
Sculptress is Janet Scudder, from the Smithsonian.
Tie wearers: Left hand lady is Connie Sullivan, a 1930s golfer, from LOC.
Right hand man: artist Abraham Walkowitz, from the Smithsonian.
What a delightful post, Moira! The whole lounge lizard look is unique and can be fun, and it's interesting that Sayers makes use of it as often as she does. And it's the same for the bohemian look. I hadn't thought of how often Sayers included all of this, but as you've shown here, she did!
ReplyDeleteThanks Margot - I think it shows her more high-spirited side, and is good fun. She mixed in a lot of different circles, and knew what she was talking about here.
DeleteSo what could be wrong with the fawn-coloured suit we do not care for, and has he kept it in his wardrobe just on the offchance that he might one day need to disguise himself as a lounge lizard? And are the autumn leaf socks burnt orange (as Cecil Beaton's seem to be) or just too loud a shade of brown?
ReplyDeleteI too am unimpressed by Lord Peter's ability to dress himself unaided - I could tie a school tie without hesitation or lip compression at the age of ten.
Sovay
Questions questions. We should all keep a disguise outfit in the backs of our wardrobes, ready for an investigation. Well, Credenza and Chester/Otto would certainly know what furniture to hide it in.
DeleteI think it's posh people - Linda in Nancy Mitford couldn't tie her own tie or stock.
It depends which kind of tie and how it is tied. Bow ties are famously difficult to tie by the wearer, even with the aid of a mirror, and some ties show their descent from the cravat and need very precise and elaborate adjustment. School ties are famously simply and inelegantly knotted, whereas there are several guides to tying the more complex and elegant ones on the 'net. No doubt Jeeves and Bunter learned precisely where and how to knot ties at the Valets' Training School and so could advise their employers more effectively.
DeleteHave you come across Bellamy the Magnificent by Roy Horniman (author of Israel Rank, inspiration for Kind Hearts and Coronets). Lord Bellamy makes the mistake of inadvertently seducing his valet's wife, and the valet's revenge is terrible to behold.
I haven’t read a lot of Sayers lately but as far as I remember Lord Peter’s not that pernickety about his clothes (as witness his nearly leaving the flat in trousers Bunter doesn’t approve of) so I’d have thought he’d find the classic four-in-hand good enough for most occasions. But if he’s attempting a Full Windsor I would be impressed. Evening ties are notoriously tricky - and if you DO get it just perfect you may be suspected of resorting to the despised “made-up” bow. Bellamy the Magnificent sounds interesting …
DeleteThe disguise outfits may need their own separate chifferobe, what with the fawn suit and the affable tweed and presumably other garments conveying different subtly misleading shades of meaning.
Sovay
Roger: Every so often there is a wave of little books about How to Tie A Scarf, which women give to each other as gifts. There is obviously room for similar for men, but would they buy them? and you need to decide if the illos will show face on, or what you see in the mirror.
DeleteGeorgette Heyer's Regency romances were full of discussion of the neckwear of the era - it was reliable that a man who could do a good special version was a good thing (as reliable as Jilly Cooper heroes who like animals and poetry). Her superior heroes can be quite cutting to other men who can't achieve the required look. Bellamy the Magnificent sounds splendid.
Sovay: there was also Harriet's vamping outfit, with the wavering hem, she'd need a spot for that. And a drawer for socks of the wrong shade.
I want a special shelf on which I will store hats with eye veils, and also one of those hats with a bunch of fake curls attached, as found in Agatha Christie.
This comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteWere the undesirable menswear items also purchased deliberately with disguises in mind? I can't see Bunter allowing them into the flat in the normal way of things.
DeleteIt's an interesting question - all women are familiar with that feeling of getting something home that looked great in the changing-room, but somehow has metamorphosed into a less desirable item. But do men have that?
DeleteI'd think that Wimsey had his suits custom-made by a high-class tailor, but would he dare ask said tailor to create a "lounge-lizard suit"?!
DeleteSurely not... you are making me very curious now about how he ended up with the Bad Items
DeleteThe details that give the lounge lizard look might be quite subtle – lapel a little too wide perhaps, jacket a little too waisted or top button a shade too low – though even so, a top-flight tailor shouldn’t be making such mistakes, which does suggest that maybe Peter bought the suit off the peg with disguise in mind …
DeleteCo-respondent shoes would be de rigeur; and maybe the British equivalent of the Broadway Special hat that Jeeves won’t let Bertie Wooster buy (the Shaftesbury Avenue Special? Doesn’t have quite the same ring). And for the lady sleuth, hats as described, many pairs of inappropriate shoes (because a real lady can always be distinguished by her shoes so presumably a fake lady can too) and an ankle bracelet or two perhaps.
Sovay
I'm seeing this as one of those splendid cut-out dolls book: woman undercover at the front, with a full wardroble of vamping requirements - then the second half the male doll with lounge lizard, Bohemian and travelling salesman options.
DeleteUndercover woman would need a Bohemian option too - and at the other end of the scale, a slightly shabby Woman on the Clapham Omnibus outfit for inconspicuous shadowing.
DeleteThe only reason I don't have a set of the "Murderess Ink" Harriet and Miss Climpson paper dolls standing along the edge of the relevant bookshelf is that I can't get the book to lie flat enough for accurate photocopying.
Sovay
YES! Me too - I was trying to copy them for recent blogposts and did not do well, but am not willing to sacrifice the book by slicing out pages!
DeleteI love the hair on the gent in the top pic, wonder if it's flaming red?
ReplyDeleteCould be. The photo's description says it's not certain whom it shows, and offers two different names.
DeleteAre the two tie-wearing ladies identifiable? I’m particularly curious about the artist with the quiff.
DeleteSovay
Left hand lady in striped tie is: Connie Sullivan, wife of Willard P. Sullivan. She co-founded the Women's Southern Golf Association and served as the U.S. Golf Association's Women's Chairman in 1937.
DeleteRight hand is a man. I can see I was a bit misleading - he's meant to represent how LPW looked when dressed as a Bohemian. (Because I prepared this for a talk, and Powerpoint, and using photos I'd used before, some of the pics have become very separated from their attributions!)
When I first used this picture, I said "The Smithsonian Institute has a wonderful collection of b/w photos of artists of the 20th century, which they generously make available under a creative commons licence. I have often used them on the blog – they never challenge any stereotypes of how artists appear, or dress, or where or how they would stand to have their picture taken… In case that sounds critical – it’s not meant to be, I love the pictures.
This one shows Abraham Walkowitz (1880-1965)
And, I have now added the links to those two pictures, at the bottom of the post.
DeleteI did wonder about the artist with the quiff - but it could have been Quaint Irene Coles (though on reflection I'm fairly sure she's better looking).
DeleteConnie Sullivan looks a lovely woman though a bit dishevelled - the tie doesn't quite go with the well-worn cardigan and limp muslin collar.
Sovay
I've always assumed that Quaint Irene was very good-looking.
DeleteAnd I think that's a most endearing picture of Connie Sullivan, she looks charming.
Connie Sullivan reminded me of your photo of Josephine Pullein-Thompson, also looking like someone it would be a pleasure to know.
DeleteSovay
Oh yes, great comparison. That JPT photo makes me smile just to think about it.
DeleteThis reminds me that there is a splendid lounge lizard in Parker Pyne Investigates called Claude Luttrell which rather wonderfully was the name of my Anglo-Saxon tutor at Leicester, a lovely man and anyone less like a lounge lizard it would be hard to imagine. There isn't really an equivalent these days, is there? Chrissie
ReplyDeleteI remember your telling me that, I was so impressed. It was always my favourite name in the whole of Christie, so perfect. It's not a career goal is it? You can't imagine the careers section at schools discussing it...
DeleteIIRC Claude himself has doubts about his vocation as a lounge lizard in the first Parker Pyne story and seems to be planning to "go straight", though he changes his mind and is still on the PP payroll in a later story, posing as half of an exotic dancing duo. I've always suspected that PP (who makes it clear that he knows a LOT about Claude's early career) blackmails him into sticking to his last.
DeleteSovay
I'm getting this feeling that he thought he couldn't do any other job with that name, it seemed like nominative determinsm. But he was wrong - if only he'd known he could have been a serious academic in the English Dept of a University. Poor Claude.
DeleteBUT I do not think PP would stoop to blackmail, I think he's a lovely man
I'm not entirely convinced about PP, though I'll admit that my early impression that he had Ariadne Oliver locked in his attic churning out scenarios proved on closer reading to be erroneous. But yes, Claude may simply have decided he was tied by fate to his lounge lizardry.
DeleteThe only other Christie lounge lizard coming to mind is Raymond Starr in “The Body in the Library” – dancer and tennis coach, claiming to be of aristocratic South American origin. The book’s not in my collection at present and I can’t now remember whether the South American background is pure embroidery on his part or whether there’s a thread of truth in it; either way he’s quite a sympathetic character IIRC.
What about Prince Varasashvili in Georgette Heyer’s “No Wind of Blame”? He has the lounge lizard manner, and it’s clear that he’s insinuated himself into the good graces of rich middle-aged Ermyntrude at a hotel abroad, with a view to getting his hands on her money by marrying either her or her daughter Vicky (Ermyntrude might be naïve enough to fall for his line, Vicky definitely isn’t). Unlike Christie and Sayers, Heyer has no sympathy at all for the lounge lizard’s situation.
Poor Ermyntrude really drew the short straw with her second husband Wally (whom the prince is hoping to replace) – all the lounge lizard’s traditional mercenary instincts with none of the compensating youth, charm and good looks.
Sovay
Right at the end Raymond Starr says to himelf 'the trouble I took to mug up that bit about about the Devonshire Starrs... . Oh well, my luck’s out. Dance, dance, little gentleman!’ And Raymond returned to the ballroom.'
DeleteThey are the closing lines of the book and as a teenager I was astonished at the sophistication.
And now you're making me want to read No Wind of Blame Again.
Vicky is worth a re-read.
DeleteOh yes, it is coming back to me, will have to dig it out.
DeleteHow about Vivien Edward Dubois in A Pooket Full of Rye? The names screams lounge lizard even if decribed as a tennis professional (teacher?)
DeleteOh great catch! Yes, could that BE a more lounge lizard name? And thats exactly the kind of job a LL would have...
Delete"I think they'd enjoy a DLS party - but then wouldn't we all?" No, I wouldn't. Consider this one in Strong Poison: "It was a very small room, dimly lit by a single electric bulb, smothered in a lantern of painted glass, and it was packed to suffocation with people, whose silk legs, bare arms and pallid faces loomed at him like glow-worms out of the obscurity. Coiling wreaths of tobacco-smoke swam slowly to and fro in the midst. In one corner an anthracite stove, glowing red and mephitical, vied with a roaring gas-oven in another corner to raise the atmosphere to roasting-pitch. On the stove stood a vast and steaming kettle; on a side-table stood a vast and steaming samovar; over the gas, a dim figure stood turning sausages in a pan with a fork, while an assistant attended to something in the oven, which Wimsey, whose nose was selective, identified among the other fragrant elements in this compound atmosphere, and identified rightly, as kippers." The guests are as ghastly as the refreshments. I would not enjoy this DLS party, but I loved reading about it. --Trollopian
ReplyDeleteYou made me laugh with that! I think I want to go to one undercover, to collect facts, choosing my clothes with care to fit in. I'm trying to decide whether the literary ones or the political ones would be more worthwhile.
DeleteThinking bohemians, especially Mr. O’Halloran in Haunted Policeman, I always imagine them colourful as in paintings by Nils Dardel, specifically the one called Paranoikern.
ReplyDeleteI was completely unfamiliar with artist and paintings, and now having looked them up I can only say 'Perfect!' Thank you.
DeleteAnd "The Dying Dandy"... https://sis.modernamuseet.se/sv/objects/1965/den-doende-dandyn
DeleteMy goodness - another exceptional picture.
DeleteLends new meaning to "I wouldn't be seen dead in that."
DeleteHe looks as though he might be doing the Oscar Wilde line about 'either that wallpaper goes or I do...'
DeleteBryan Ferry had a sort of lounge lizard look at one point, I think. This was after the glam rock era!
ReplyDeleteYES! He had the perfect look. When I was looking for pictures, I was very tempted by some of him...
DeleteSurely the fawn trousers were dirty as Lord Peter had just climbed up and down a drainpipe? Nothing else wrong with them.
ReplyDeleteBut can we be sure?
DeletePS The Role of the Kipper in the Works of Dorothy Sayers (Lucy)
ReplyDeleteKippers were definitely bohemian.
DeleteLord Peter: it was the fault of that ridiculous club—what could you expect of a place where you ate such horrible food, all packed into an underground cellar painted pink and talking away at the tops of their voices, and never any evening dress—only Soviet jumpers and side-whiskers.
ReplyDelete"a cheerful young woman with bobbed red hair, dressed in a short checked skirt, brilliant jumper, corduroy jacket, and a rakish green velvet tam-o'-shanter" - Miss Tarrant - takes him to the Soviet Club where her wooden beads fall in the soup. The ambience reminds him of "mission teas".
(Lucy)
Considering she liked colour herself, it's surprising that DLS often uses it to make others sound badly-dressed. I wonder how many Soviet clubs she went to...
Delete