Yesterday, DC's first ever Tweed Ride whooshed through this city's urban landscape, woven wool, and newsie caps on hand. I was so bummed that I had to work and miss this hallowed event. (Although secretly I was terrified that my crappy 20 year old bike, and my cranky 34 year old ass, wouldn't make it more than 4 blocks. Yes, both of us are in terrible need of a tune up!)
But check this shit out! There were over 300 riders, dandies and their gals in attendance. These folks made an afternoon out of playing dress up like it was just another day – in 1922. Not only were they all so dreamy, but they made this city feel *cool* again. Tweed Rides started in London, and have been popping up all over in cities that pride themselves on their DIY countercultures.
I think what I love most is that there is a certain appeal about the 'days of old' – the romanticism of not only well tailored ensembles, but also of honor and class. (In this instance, I mean class as in someone has a 'classy style,' not as in a caste system.) Days when being a gentle-man sometimes meant one had to duke it out in a old fashioned duels in order to protect and defend one's honor. There seems to be a big lure reeling in some of this artsy counterculture – some people who would otherwise never want to voluntarily wear a suit or ruffled blouse or dress. And I love that there is a chosen return to not only to upping the ante style-wise, but also inclusive of the implied charms of that 'golden age.' The modern man embracing much that is antiquated and 'dustily' vintaged to craft himself into the perfect contemporary specimen. Amazing, really.
When I was in college I studied Gender Studies for a while. No big surprise, I am sure, but it's coming back to me now with delightful enthusiasm. I remember objectively looking at various eras in American history, and there appeared to be a pendulum swing between extremes in hetero-gendered behavior (meaning genders were thought to be polarized archetypes), versus a swell of a more androgynous pinnings.
For instance, the image of Rosie the Riveter from the 1940s – women flooding the workplace where men previously resided, depicted and marketed as just as strong and valuable as men. They were told it was patriotic to fill in these typically masculine jobs. But when the male soldiers returned home from World War II, many of these women were displaced, and found themselves being tossed aside, told that they were weak and unwanted. Post war, in the late 1940s through the early 1960s these ladies were primed to become homemakers, wives, and mothers, instead of workers. Again, a man's place was out in the world, and a woman's place was in the home. Very polarized indeed.
Not to go off on a huge tangent, but it's interesting to see how these things evolve, and the emergence of newer trends. All of this to say: I am excited about these newer patterns of masculinity embracing the charm, charisma and etiquette of yesteryear, but fused with a more progressive, emotionally available, mindful thread. I am ready.
Interesting stuff. The funny thing is that they had a Tweed Ride in little Laramie, Wyoming (population: 20,000). It wasn't quite the same, since there's 6 inches of snow on the ground and the roads are covered in a thick exoskeleton of ice. :)
ReplyDeleteHa! I picture everyone's tweed covered up by waterproof Goretex, and lofty chains on their vintage British bicycle wheels. And maybe those who actually donned tweed that day weren't retroactive hipsters, but oldsters who still coveted their moth-eaten blazers from decades past. But I *love* that Laramie beat us (DC) to it!
ReplyDelete