Essential Snobbery 101: Ritzy on Piccadilly

A London Weekend

A fascinating London weekend it was, in which most of what was intended was achieved, including the benefit that being over the age of sixty offers; a third off transport fares, if you remember to show up with the bona fides for your age.

On the Piccadilly line of the London Underground, the glimpse I caught of buttons on the back of a jacket suggested an untucked, ruffian look from the front; with a tie rather than a bow tie or cravat, it was a tailcoat of undecided pretensions to putting on the Ritz.

The Ritz and Recognition

Indeed, I did alight at Green Park and exited onto Piccadilly on the side of The Ritz London, one of the swankiest hotels in the city, opened by César Ritz in May 1906.

I could never walk down Piccadilly without being acknowledged, and I was quite dressed down, standing out simply because I wore a straw hat, carried a walking cane, and had a jacket finished with an elaborate pocket square collage.

The doormen at the Ritz doffed their top hats and even muttered a greeting, which I returned.

Heading to Fortnum's

I was on my way to Fortnum & Mason, a walk that takes you past The Wolseley Piccadilly, the Caviar House, Burlington Arcade across the street beside Burlington House, the home of the learned Royal Societies too.

Fortnum's is always busy, yet a very different busy from Harrods in Knightsbridge, which I only ever entered once at someone's behest; the less said of the garish, gaudy place, the better.

Inside Fortnum's

In existence since 1707, this shop is famous for its teas and other exquisite foods. It has been picketed many times for selling foie gras, the making of which does not greatly concern me, as the taste is as different from pâté as fish roe is from beluga caviar.

I have a predilection for Earl Grey tea, and they have many blends, of which Smoky Earl Grey wins every time. It is best to have the loose tea dispensed at a counter by weight rather than buying packaged tea bags or the ready tins, which can be more than 33% dearer.

Along with some Lapsang Souchong aromatic tea and Strawberry with Fortnum's Champagne Preserve, which takes the edge off the sweetness of the jam, that was my first visit in about seven years.

Leaving Piccadilly

As I left for the station, the doorman at the Wolseley offered a greeting; not the one who always took time to compliment my dressing, but they do see enough to know the difference between being dapper and just snooty.

He had a bowler hat on, and I had to ask where he got it, as mine, bought from a gentleman's outfitters in Ipswich some thirty years ago, was looking the worse for wear.

He recommended a milliner near Liverpool Street, but that might require another visit to London.

There is a quiet, unbothered sophistication about Piccadilly; the London tour buses gather at the entrance to Green Park just as a patron of The Wolseley urges his dog to take a pee. The carefree appearance demands a dress code enforced on the serving, whilst remaining non-existent for the served.

Putting on the Ritz

A short note on the places that punctuated this walk: The Ritz London, opened in 1906, was the realisation of César Ritz, the Swiss hotelier whose name became shorthand for refined luxury. Fortnum & Mason, founded in 1707 by William Fortnum, a footman in Queen Anne's household, and Hugh Mason, his landlord, has supplied the British establishment with provisions for over three centuries.

The Wolseley, by comparison, is a relative newcomer; a former car showroom turned grand European café, it opened in 2003 and has since become a Piccadilly fixture in its own right. Burlington Arcade, opened in 1819, remains the original covered shopping promenade, still patrolled by its top-hatted Beadles. The Royal Societies along Piccadilly include the Royal Academy of Arts at Burlington House, where the learned and the artistic have gathered since the eighteenth century.

It is no accident that the Ritz lent its name to a song. When Irving Berlin wrote Puttin' on the Ritz in 1929, he was reaching across the Atlantic for the very idea César Ritz had built into a brand. The original lyric pictured "Park Avenue", with its "high hats and Arrow collars, white spats and lots of dollars", as the place to dress to impress.

The 1946 revision moved the scene to "up on Lenox Avenue", but the spirit remained the same; to put on the Ritz was to wear your best and walk as though the pavement belonged to you. 

Piccadilly, in its quieter, more unbothered way, has always done the same. Park Avenue performs its wealth; Piccadilly assumes it. The doormen still doff their top hats, the bowler hats still need replacing, and the tailcoats of undecided pretensions still ride the Underground, hoping nobody notices the buttons on the back.

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The chaplaincy of Chortles-upon-Whereitsat

Cameras at the ready

On many occasions, I find myself taking funny orders, inconspicuously traipsing the streets of Manchester, and accosted by some who commend my sartorial taste to the extent of being asked to be photographed.

I was in a conversation on my phone at St Peter’s Square when a man decked out in full Rastafari garb, lots of Jamaican colours from head to toe came into my purview and as I remonstrated that I was otherwise engaged, with hand signals and gestures, I obliged a picture. Then he sat beside me while his partner snapped away, then he gave a wave and left.

Dressing up is an art

On a Sunday afternoon, I could acknowledge five variations of dapper or looking good from the hat to the whole ensemble, it is like I cannot dress down. Interestingly, if I do have to visit an office, in my life of work where I have had many suits, shirts and ties, I would rather wear them than leave them to feed moths.

For all the easing of formalities, having once worked in the city, the business capital of the United Kingdom, I am quite a reminder of a bygone age, with a bowler hat too for the cold and frigid winter days.

A chaplaincy I assume

This evening, I was at church for the valedictory service in honour of the outgoing Archdeacon of Rochdale, it was a well-attended event with all the trappings of Anglican traditions and all the extant clergy of the diocese and beyond. Quite a fine service before a small reception of hot beverages and cake.

As I was making my way to the table to be served, I was approached by a parson who I had met before at another event, he came with the familiarity of a bear hug, before he began to discuss clerical opportunities in the diocese, I guess I was being confused with someone else. I however could not reject such due consideration for the chaplaincy of Chortles-upon-Whereitsat.

A chortle we did have when I suggested, I could consider taking holy orders, as for where and when, I would have been expected to wear a dog collar for the event rather than a day cravat, or had I inadvertently converted one into the other? A conversation about doppelgangers ensued, they look nothing like me, and an unfortunate case of prosopagnosia becomes more humorous than to be maligned.

The UK: Scoring low on the good skirt test

Help!

Anyone who reads my blog will more or less conclude that I am a liberal. I am probably a liberal, I do have certain conservative views, but I would hope that I practice a sort of pragmatism tempered with a broad accepting reasonableness.

My last blog addressed the issue of the regulation of women’s as a fascination and a mode of gauging the level of morality in certain societies. One can easily sententiously subscribe to the view that a certain mode of dress as accepted in certain places is the level of tolerance of permissiveness and an exacerbation of the lascivious, but I refuse to entertain that as embracing of the freedom of responsible expression by adults.

However, I was met with a serious challenge to my generally liberal views of dress as I arrived at work and in the process of disembarking from my taxicab, the passenger in the taxicab in front stepped out, blazing red Christian Louboutin shoes, black blouse, and jacket, over a black skirt. In tow, a trolley bag and a catwalk gait to the office block.

The good skirt test

I dare say, from basic observation, the good seamstress test was suffering in extremis, the skirt appeared to be not long enough to cover the detail, and it was short enough to maintain too much of a lingering interest as to forget that there was someone wearing the clothes. The good seamstress or tailoress as I found was the archaic term for dressmaker at the Leeds Industrial Museum over a week ago suggests, ‘a skirt must be long enough to cover the detail, whilst short enough for keep the interest.’ Not a lingering and lewd interest, though.

The skirt struggled to pass the basic test on both accounts for the occasion when it probably would have wowed the fashion watchers on a celebrity red carpet. Then I cannot comment on the appropriateness of the attire if the wearer is comfortable in what they choose to wear, but I would be surprised if it did not draw some commentary anywhere she went around the campus on Monday.

My companion did quip as we got out of the taxicab, inquiring if I did see what she thought she had seen. I guess a lot more people had their heads turning for the want of some understanding.

It’s summer, but at the office

Then I was intimated of an event some summers ago, when the mercury put the UK in Mediterranean bliss and with that, the business sense in dress was discarded for a laissez-faire beach casual look. This compelled the management to remonstrate about presentation and manner of dress with regards to the appropriateness for the office, however, without listing the prescriptive items of clothing that appeared to suggest contempt for comportment and decency.

I still feel adults should behave responsibly on matters of presentation and appearance at work without having to be told how. Then again, some sometimes forget and need to be reminded of where they are, so that they can make adjustments where necessary.

However, what could happen is if management is too timid to be particular with individuals, the scattergun approach of a circular might also come with certain put-upon staff constituting a vigilante fashion police mob acting beyond their areas of core expertise.

Nobody should have to be told how to dress, but somebody needs to intervene when the manner of dress draws attention away from the wearer, especially when the wearer is not on a catwalk.

Nigeria: Our fascination with regulating how women dress

Now seriously

Some two days ago, I retweeted a posting with my own commentary which was challenged by a few of my followers and it led to a discussion on the regulation of feminine apparel, the rut in the civil service and other issues about outward moralising with no character moulding consequence necessary to ensure a more harmonious society.

What nonsense is this?
How does regulating the manner of dress of the womenfolk improve productivity? https://t.co/jlPt9fLaNN

— Akin Akíntáyọ̀ (@forakin) September 1, 2016

The news story that appeared on the YNaija website had the headline, “NPA bans female workers from wearing miniskirts, jeans trousers.” To the few that challenged my premise, they first dismissed the headline as click-bait and then suggested that the story was not currently contemporaneous.

Comprehension is key

Let’s first of all deal with the matter of basic English comprehension as I liberally quote verbatim from the new story under review.

“The statement read, ‘It has been observed that despite the issuance of a couple of circulars vide HQ/GMHR/CON/G.3/128 of 25th August, 2008 and HQ/CR/AD/G.1/3039 of 19th December, 2014 on corporate Dress Code, some employees still indulge in improper dressing to the office.’”

Now, there is no date as to why this became a current news story, but a number of things are evident from the first paragraph of the statement purportedly released by the Nigeria Ports Authority (NPA). In both 2008 and 2014, a circular was released to address the matter of corporate dress codes, the last clause of the paragraph, suggests some employees still indulge.

This indicates, this statement released was post-December 2014, and any time between December 2014 and September 2016, the general manager of the NPA found it necessary to reference previous circulars and then restate the need to follow the directives as neatly referenced in the statement.

YNaija at the end of the article then informs us that a new managing director was appointed last month, I would leave out any reference I have observed of the appearance and apparel of the new appointee. Yet, one has to question whether it is a mere coincidence or a deliberate act of the reinforcement of some values and mission statement that the manner of dress should make the news soon after the appointment of a new head of the NPA. I will wager, it is no coincidence and by that suggest, this statement is current, recent and for now.

After women without doubt

Then to the detail of the statement.

“For the avoidance of doubt, it is hereby reiterated that inappropriate dressings such as tight jeans trousers, cut-off trousers, mini-skirts/dresses, tummy and navel shirt transparent/exposing outfits, spaghetti strapped dresses, mismatched clothes, rubber slippers, tattered shoes and rough hairstyles, (to mention but a few) that are unnecessary distractions would no longer be condoned and will henceforth attract appropriate sanctions.”

From the highlighted bits of the above paragraph, you would find it strange that I was engaged in a discussion where someone disingenuously suggested this prescriptive delineation, was unisex rather than referring to women in particular. I am trying to get my head around the idea that men wear dresses to work or are inclined to adorn drag costumes.

The later part of the paragraph might well apply to all genders, but we would be deceiving ourselves if we did not recognise that this was primarily addressed to womenfolk and any inclusion of men in this apparent scattergun generalisation of mismatched clothes, slippers, shoes and hairstyles was purely coincidental.

The subjectivity of decency and moderation

In closing, there is a clear adjuring of the line management in the terms below:

“In view of the foregoing and to further maintain a positive corporate image of a reputable organisation, all divisional, departmental and sectional heads, especially heads of personnel are once again enjoined to ensure monitoring of compliance of employees (sic) dressings (sic) with emphasis on decent, moderate and smart national and formal English wears (sic).”

In other words, the NPA has initiated a fashion police of its management chain to ensure decent and moderate ‘dressings’ amongst the ranks.

Now, I have no issue with an organisation striving to ensure its employees and representatives present a business and corporate look towards what they call a ‘positive corporate image of a reputable organisation’. Whether that is the clear objective or something more sinister is play is left to conjecture.

The control of feminine apparel

What we cannot deny is the fact that some societies actively measure their moral standing through the control and regulation of the apparel of their womenfolk. Nigeria is no stranger to moves to introduce prescriptive dress codes on women from the National Assembly, spearheaded by supercilious and sententious women ably supported by men on grounds of religion, culture, and tradition. This issue is ably discussed in a piece for OpenDemocracy.Net by Dr. Bibi Bakare-Yusuf, titled, Of mini-skirts and morals: social control in Nigeria.

The matter of what is decent, moderate or moral is subjective. Only last week, the Indian Tourism Minister was advising, or should we say, instructing female tourists not to wear skirts or walk alone in small or rural cities in response to the many high profile assaults women have suffered in India. [The Guardian]

Whilst, the advice is well-intentioned, it does not address the real issue which is a seeming tolerance of assault occasioning the abuse and violation of women based on their appearance, rather than a zero-tolerance towards men who appear to be excused to act as wild beasts completely without control of their urges and actions when they sight a woman unaccompanied or dressed in some particular way.

My view was and still remains that the Tourism Minister and even everywhere else, the louder campaign should follow the mantra of the demonstrations in 2012 to which I penned an opinion piece. It's a Dress, NOT a Yes.

Blog – Opinion: It’s a Dress, NOT a YES.

Then in France, we have the culture and political wars on the burkini and other conflated religious and cultural apparel that women either choose or are probably compelled to wear. [Spiked-Online]

It is paternalistic at best

However, back to the main issue, the NPA is within its rights to advice and suggest all employees should present professionally in apparel and in manner, but when you begin to single out particular items of clothing as a laundry list of the unacceptable, one begins to wonder if it is adults being addressed or kids.

This goes to the general paternalistic situation of many societies where from childhood people take instruction and as hierarchies develop into adulthood, there is some sort of elite that arrogates to itself some lordship of the others, in religious, in corporate, in cultural, in social and in traditional settings that dictates what others must do or suffer some consequence.

It is an unhealthy power dynamic that robs people of reasoning capacity, autonomy, initiative, ownership of their choices and ultimately responsibility.

As we genuflect to authority figures in an obsequious desire of their approbation, we lose individuality and uniqueness in personality to some dronish conformance to some boring norm. We might as well all be poured into one-sized uniforms of appearance and conduct. The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, anyone?

Treat adults as adults

I want to believe that we all as adults should know how to conduct ourselves in a corporate environment and by that, it would pertain to dress and attitude, that it should not need some overbearing government apparatchik to command the state of dress on anyone.

The few outliers who are unaware of what conduct should pertain can be addressed directly and probably mentored by example and encouragement, without insulting the intelligence of the broader majority that knows how to behave.

That, in my view, is a better way to approach this issue. We are in an era where such silly excesses of officialdom pretending to some vision and mission statement conveyed through the regulation of dress will be excoriated without respite.

Give people the freedom and respect to be responsible adults and you will get responsible people, begin to order them around and you’ll have a riot on your hands in no time. It goes without saying that the NPA statement was a public relations disaster, it could have been better written and conveyed a much-matured approach, but what is power abused, if it cannot be condescending and there is much belittlement, condescension, patronising and unmitigated abuse in Nigeria – it needs to stop.

Finally, whilst the way people dress might be an outward expression of character and personality, it does not define character, personality nor integrity, we should not get that concept wrong and how you dress is neither a measure nor definer of your ultimate productivity in any environment. The prescription of dress in any emancipated society should only pertain to health and safety procedures and never on subjective morality issues.

Holiday Snaps: Dressed to shock

Returnees’ paradise

One of the things that keeps me returning to this hotel on Playa del Inglés is the same that keeps the majority of custom coming, service.

Service, friendliness and going completely out their way to be helpful and wonderful. There is very little staff attrition, most of the people I met here where I first lodged in this hotel 7 years ago are still here. It was incidental that I noticed that even the bellboy has a car, they invest in their people.

Dining friends

Dinner is some sort of ceremony, everyone is dressed up in a fashion, it is not formal, but beach wear is not considered appropriate. Men are expected to be in trousers and ladies are expected to put some effort to it.

We are allocated tables for the duration of our stay with an option to change if we do not like our dining neighbours. Our neighbours were German and after a few days with their command of English and my smattering dollops of German we struck humorous and engaging conversation about our days, our food and much else.

Both he and her were not just well attired, but exhibited a quiet class and sophistication to their demeanour. My friend many times commented that they looked like love birds.

Malfunctions of dress

On other tables, some ladies seem to have brought a wardrobe that really should have been locked shut. In some cases, it was a strap or a bra pad smidgen away from a catastrophic wardrobe malfunction.

Strangely, I have not taken time to observe the shoes, but the dresses and the hair were jaw-dropping incredulous that words of disdain would spill out in a torrent if one were not slightly reserved.

Exciting taste

The food was rich in variety, with many healthy options and the obligatory dessert; ladles of ice-cream, some boiled fruit and then lashings of liqueur. The ice-cream softens kick of the liqueur and hence makes it easy on my palate.

Now, beyond halfway through our holiday, we are probably beginning to wind down for our return home.

Opinion: Much ambivalence on sagging trousers, mini skirts and performance nudity

A lap dancing video

I was in bar one evening where a big screen was playing back MTV videos with no volume and it got me thinking.

A number of chart toppers; if only people were more like me; came on screen and the whole performance looked like a visit to a lap-dancing joint; pouting, wiggling, shaking and flaunting with reckless flirtatious zest. Even if the volume were turned up, it would have made no difference to the distraction of over-sexualising the demonstration that the musical element was completely lost.

Then there was that performance on one of those many reality television embarrassment shows where she appeared with her all her clothes on, surprisingly, well, until she was showered with water on stage – the rest is history.

Abusing the function of apparel

The matter of apparel or the absence of it does excite debate, I am usually befuddled by sagging trousers exposing cack-ridden underwear accentuated by the dawdling like a duck gait that otherwise agile young men adopt to keep the trousers from falling below the knees, you should see them run.

Out in Hungary, a university has enforced a conservative dress code that has created a revolt, as some students attended class literally naked in protest – we risk diving headlong into ignominy the moment we begin to regulate mode of dressing predicated on some conservative viewpoint.

Some societies set out their moral barometer through the strict regulation of women in society paying no regard to the equal responsibility of men to just as well behaved.

Between music and lewdness

Then at the risk of ambivalence losing balance in the discourse, we are presented with the transition of Miley Cyrus into adulthood, a maturity expressed by throwing caution to the winds in sexualising performances as well as some nudity to boot.

However, when she suggested one of her raunchy videos drew inspiration from Sinead O’Connor. The press then assailed Sinead with questions, which led to this open letter to Miley.

Many arguments can be made for the freedom of expression, pride in one’s sexuality, the licence to take licence and not be castigated across the board for sagging trousers, banning mini-skirts or swinging on a wrecking ball in the nude licking a hammer.

Breaking the wrong rules

However, we must be careful that our exuberance does not lead us down the road to ruin, and with that, I pitch my tent with those who suggest a modicum of modesty, moderation and restraint.

It is important that the core talent one has in not overshadowed by tawdry and lewd expression except where one’s stock in trade is the display of such for titillation and suggestiveness.

Whilst rules are sometimes meant to be broken, the ones we choose to break should be done with serious consideration and awareness of consequence.

This is where the advice contained in Sinead O’Connor should not go unheeded, it is really good advice, though it is arguable that it was poorly offered.

Decency is a leveller

Decency becomes the watchword, underwear being under the clothes, skirts long enough to cover the detail even though some might be persuaded of shortening it to keep the interest and let musicians just be musicians – we need to differentiate between selling music as talent and selling sex to push the talent.

I would hate to regulate dressing, it is a free world but if in the performance of high art we need to appeal to the lowest common denominator, maybe it is not high art after all.

Thought Picnic: Of Justin Bieber in London with that look

Unconcerned

Now, apparently, a Mr Justin Bieber has been on a UK tour, having been in Manchester the week before when I was up there and then in London as the weekend rolled in.

I do not particularly care for his kind of music but I have seen the female folk swoon and squeal with glee at his appearance and performance that I can quite patently say I do not want whatever they are on to make them see whatever they are seeing or hear whatever they are hearing.

Then again, for the kind of music the young man purveys, he has become rather financially successful and some credit for his upbringing should go to his tenacious mum, Pattie Mallette whose intrusion into the public sphere has now included her sententiously religious opinions about abortion.

Unabashed

He turned 19 on the 1^st of March and he allegedly was staying at The Langham London which along with its luxurious opulence will not be lacking in the class and grace of a decent gourmet restaurant, however, the dear boy thought he might have a kebab instead, we cannot for now vouch for what kind of meat might be on the skewer with the food industry horsing around on pigs and cows that we might just be racing camels at the Grand National if all the horses enter the food chain.

One should not begrudge the man the need for something less exquisite, the presence of means does suddenly accrue to good bearing and exemplary mien, these things cannot be brought and only so much can be taught.

Unimpressed

It turns out that he left the hotel topless and what a body he appears to have but the low-hanging trousers exposing the full complement of his underwear must be the lowest expression of oafish conduct I have seen since I last told some boys on an Amsterdam shopping street to pull up their trousers and stop assaulting and outraging public decency with cack-ridden slips.

Every picture captured of the boy, because it does not become a man to be in such a state of undignified exposure, rankles with revulsion that makes one give up the hope of rescuing a fashion victim that has no doubt become a fashion suicide.

The worst bit of this display of gaol fashion that was attributed to men in prison who allowed themselves this demonstration to suggest they were available to be used as sex objects is the many others who will model their slouching gait and backside exposure tendencies after this Justin Bieber enterprise which should attract much excoriation and opprobrium.

Unacceptable

If my life had taken another course, a 19-year old kid would probably have been a 3^rd or 4^th child and I cannot see how regardless of situation, circumstance or peer pressure where any of my children would have been allowed to walk the streets inappropriately dressed to fit in with a nominally uncouth culture and appearance.

Being proper and properly attired is a matter of breeding, class and comportment without having to be dependent on means.

At this point, if there were occasion to warrant a cacophonous imposition on my aural faculties of this man’s crooning croaks my estimation of this very successful man who William Shakespeare would have effusively praised by saying, “You show yourself highly fed and lowly taught,” would not move one to find the slightest respect for his standing.

You only have to see the pictures to understand where I am coming from.

Opinion: It's a Dress, NOT a YES

A crime beneath contempt

The focus went to India this week with protests against the gang-rape of a lady of 23 by six presumably drunken men on a bus as punishment for being out in the evening with a man.

She was repeated raped, beaten with rods and thrown off the bus, her companion was also attacked but that lady presently fights for her life.

There are many strands to this story that cannot be dealt with in the strictures of a blog; the cultural, the traditional, the economic, the social and the religious issues are myriad.

No excuse

However, there is one clear narrative that should be declared unassailable all around the globe - that there is no excuse acceptable in humanity and most especially in the 21^st Century that warrants the violation of another human-being in pursuit of some warped notion of deterrence or meting out of punishments to set society to rights.

In the first instance, drunkenness cannot  and must not excuse criminality, it is within the capabilities of people to control their use of alcoholic beverages and moderate the anti-social influences that might result from inebriation.

There is no reason for people to act in mob packs like animals, each one of those men should have and must have known that what they were doing was at first wrong and at best criminal but they might have for some sense of impunity assumed they could get away with their reprehensible acts.

Nothing corrective in rape

The strange entitlement syndrome that allows men to act as if there are society’s female policeman with the right to prejudge, accuse, charge, convict and punish our womenfolk is not only evident in what happened in India, it is pervasive all around the globe in the use of rape as a weapon of war, for the absurd correction of sexual preferences, for Neanderthal gratification without retribution and even for exacting an atrocious societal norm.

There is nothing corrective in rape and there is nothing whatsoever that can place rape in the ambit of anything legally justifiable under any circumstances, no matter how sententious you want to be.

The strange of strangers

That it could be a complete stranger’s business who a lady decides to go out with at any time of the day is bizarre on the face of it.

That the stranger will then act to not just challenge the lady but violate her as if they are acting in the office of society’s disciplinarian for moral infractions beggars belief in the extreme but we see this in too many places and society has been lethargic in rising up against these patently human rights violations.

Even in Nigeria

In the capital city of Nigeria, Abuja, the Abuja Environmental Protection Board has taken on the vile task of corralling any female found in town after a certain hour and branding them prostitutes.

A government organisation suddenly turned vice-squad and moral police that would shame even extreme religious fundamentalists with their egregious abuse of woman rights on the premise that they are keeping the city clean.

Even so

There is no doubt that we all want some standard of morals and modesty on our streets but it is not a licence to exact punitive measures outside the law and in violation of human rights because someone does not conform to our moral standards or prejudicial interpretations of religious texts to dehumanise, persecute, prosecute and censure others.

There is still a principle to abide by – Live and let live.

Remember this

In ending, I remember watching the news yesterday and two placards stood out in the Indian protests.

It’s a dress, not a Yes – This is probably the most succinct protest against rape under the excuse of supposedly indecent dressing.

Don’t teach our girls how to dress, teach our boys not to rape – I will rewrite that in a most categorical declaration – Teach our boys never to rape, whatever the circumstances.

805 Restaurant just improves on itself consistently

Meeting my uncle

It came on a whim; I was meeting up with my uncle who I had not seen for nigh on 7 years or thereabouts. It was interesting when we first spoke that he had been informed that I was ill but he thought it just a fever – well, I did have fevers amongst other things – to which I commented, “That is an understatement.”

He probably went half-numb into shock when I told him how ill I was, the story of the discovery, diagnosis, hospitalisation, treatments, recovery and return to life has become a somewhat flawless delivery with snippets of other things like my brother thinking my being able to blog from hospital meant I was fine – the little artistic bent I have allows for the a dead-pan delivery of the line – You have no idea.

805, it is

Anyway, we got stuck in traffic so I suggested we go off to 805, the Nigerian cuisine restaurant at 805 Old Kent Road. Whilst my uncle had his general bearings of where we were, he was unsure as we got to Old Kent Road whether we had to turn left or right.

Smartphones are so handy nowadays; I should write something about how smart my phone is when looking for directions, checking timetables for public transport and much else. Immediately, I keyed in the address and we found we were to turn right, having parked the car briefly to be sure – there was no rush.

On getting to 805, the car park behind the restaurant was full apart from watching the annoyance of someone parking and re-parking with such indecision you were ready to take a nail to their tyres just to stop them.

Between you and me, you can use the Toys ‘R Us car park on Old Kent Road some 100 yards from 805 on the other side of the road – Yes, I am back to imperial measures – but you must never have your car there for more than 2 hours, else, be a customer of Toys ‘R Us before you go to 805, the penalty is a £50 fine wending its way to your wallet.

Responsive service

We got to 805 as it began to get busy and we were ushered to a table in one of the even more sophisticated dining areas, all the décor looking formal and well laid out. I then noticed a good subtle organisational arrangement; waiters and waitresses were allocated sections to attend to and the floor manager being very observant would notice if the service was not as prompt as one would expect and ask questions of the staff as to why the delay.

As it does get busy, there could be a bit of a wait but the staff will come with assurances to handle your expectations, the wait will always be worth your while.

I had assorted meat pepper soup as my entrée and semolina pudding with edikang ikong with assorted meats for my plat principal, my uncle went for the fish pepper soup and amala pudding with corchorus (ewedu) vegetable stew and assorted meats. We had Malta Guinness for drinks but the capsicum rating of the pepper soups had us pleading for water too.

Quality and class

I first visited 805 in 2006 and since then, I have watched the restaurant expand and improve, in quality, in service, in choice, in clientele and it is a stand-out Nigerian-owned business that sets the standard for what one should expect of a decent restaurant that I find quite lacking in many other Nigerian cuisine restaurants I have visited around Europe.

805 easily caters to an international diverse and multicultural demographic, it is a place you can take anyone not familiar with Nigerian cuisine to experience the amazing smorgasbord of Nigerian cooking without being squeamish about setting, service or any other uncomfortable situation.

Easily the best

We had a lovely dinner, the facilities are also much improved too and as I made for that opportunity I acknowledged the owner who apparently also knows my uncle that when I was later introduced to him commended my appearance – he is a sharp dresser too, commanding an air of understated sophistication that most of my country-folk usually fail to carry for hedonistic ostentation that makes for expensive and vulgar expressions of wealth as one risks snobbery for noticing the difference between the one and the other.

If you are in London and looking for a bit of class mixed with nostalgia, 805 at 805 Old Kent Road cannot come better recommended.

How to get to 805 and the menu.

My first review of 805 in 2006.

Thought Picnic: The Importance of Being Distinguished

The element of dress

I was on a mission yesterday, a mission to appear and say very little, in what was a basic exercise in the importance of being distinguished.

Indeed, I have been called a dandy but there is really nothing to it, wear a shirt but don’t forget to don a day cravat, don’t wear jeans, chinos are the bare minimum otherwise wear a suit.

If you are not wearing a suit, at least have a jacket on, remember never to do up all your buttons, if you have more than one on the jacket, leave the lowest one undone.

Never forget the pocket square, have a good hat and if you are using a cane, I use one because of my back, it should have the bearing that belies your sophistication and footwear can never be trainers, good leather possibly black and side buckles than laces are more to my fancy.

The presence of presence

We were visiting an estate agent's whose reputation for unprofessionalism, rudeness and abuse was second to none as if the agency chain had trained their staff to frustrate tenants at every turn, making rules on the fly and always threatening to levy costs at the slightest opportunity.

What I had heard of them made my blood boil, what I had read of the agency chain on the Internet showed that they had form. I was ready to be present and present a presence of utter disapproval with all the gravitas I could muster – I know why I do not suffer fools gladly and I know why I can say to any customer service person I am not a vexatious customer, only one with a particular requirement that I expect to be met.

Demeanour matters, always

One does not need to raise one’s voice, slow measured tones delivered almost with a lockjaw buccal movement is as deliberate and effective as it comes – presence is an art, never a science.

We arrived at the estate agents, they shook hands, I had taken a seat before I stood up to be introduced and then observed the proceedings from a distance.

The estate agent was unusually nice, constantly seeking validation for which I would nod or sometimes interject, corroborate or elucidate.

My job was done and my friends left quite happy with the fact that they were offered the courtesies, dignity and respect a paying customer should expect. Obviously, by rights, it should be unnecessary to bring in a cavalry of dandies to impress and impress upon, but if needs must, then must one be offered on the pedestal of the importance of being distinguished – clothes, whether you like it or not do make a man and the way you wear them says a lot more than you will ever know.

Thought Picnic: Chronicling the sudden end of bicycle journeys

Bicycle accidents

In my first year in the Netherlands, I had 5 bicycle accidents. Some were avoidable but only two involved other parties. A tourist had just walked into a cycle path without looking, it was impossible to stop without hitting him.

As I got up, I was both apologetic and angry, though on realising his folly, he was more apologetic and thankfully, not too much damage was done to either of us. Last year, I had a similar accident, the lady coming out a shop just walked onto the cycle path without looking – there was just no way I could avoid her as I knocked her over, all her shopping splayed on the ground, I was not going at a high enough speed to be dismounted.

The worse accident I had wrote off my bicycle, the front forks holding the wheel were so bent backwards there wasn’t much that could be done to repair the bicycle. I was about to turn into a side-street and I did not see the cyclist coming towards me so we collided and that was the end of that journey.

In another case, this man on a scooter was definitely drunk coming round a curve and just came straight for me, that bicycle was completely written off too.

Not nice on ice

A few years ago, as I rode in winter, there was still some snow on the ground and one had to be careful to avoid the slippery icy parts. About 15 metres before my fall, I could already see myself having that accident, I do not know if it was prescience but I got to that bit of ice and probably did 5 metres of traction or lack of it after my bicycle and I were separated. Thankfully, the only thing that was bruised was my dignity and though there were onlookers none came to help.

Since then, I have avoided riding my bicycle in the snow just for the fear of falling and coming a cropper.

Yesterday looked fine enough, it was sunny, and though cold it did not appear to be freezing, so I got on my bicycle for a ride without much of a care about it.

I was just about 250 metres from home when I took a turn I usually take to on the long stretch of road that leads to my block, something I have done hundreds of times before but this time as I took the turn the tyres lost all traction and there I was on the ground, literally in the middle of the road.

They walked on by

I could not think of why I had an accident there as it took the best part of 10 minutes for me to get my bearings back, pick myself up and then get my bicycle. The two people who passed me must have thought I was drunk, but I don’t drink and none even cared to be concerned.

It bothers me because it is very unlikely I would see such a situation and never get involved, it is just not my nature to “Walk on by” but that is the community I live in and I have noticed that striking difference between Amsterdam and even Cologne to the South in Germany.

Having another look at the area, I saw the glistening reflection of what could only have been ice; innocuous and dangerous – it is what is known as black-ice, usually hardly visible on macadamised roads but treacherous at best, if I had fallen in front of a moving vehicle, their brakes would not have helped. That was close.

Fixing the damage

In any case, when I picked up my bicycle, I noticed the rear light had stopped working; probably the filament in the electric bulb had broken, then the handle bars were no more at 90 degrees to the front wheel – there wasn’t much I could do about that then and the carriage at the back of the bicycle had come off just below the back of the seat as if two bolts had been broken off.

As for the damage to my person, I was quite bruised in a couple of places around my legs but my left knee seemed to have bled through my trousers showing two big red patches.

I hobbled slowly to my home, chained up my bicycle and then inspected the bodily harm done. I did have methylated spirit but the big-baby in me could not contemplate the pain so I cleaned the wound with hydrogen peroxide instead.

Then I found myself riffling through my box of dressings, I learnt a lot about dressings a few years ago and now I was spoilt for choice. In the end I applied a silicone film to the wound, then an absorbent dressing and bandaged the knee. It is still a bit painful and I have a bit of a limp but I think I will be fine.

I should be back on my bicycle in a few days, I hope.

My bandaged knee.

Editorial: Religion and custom that savages humanity

The Customs of the Dark Ages

This just tore at my heart, the unconscionable evil that society allows in the name of religion, custom and tradition where men in their seemingly patriarchal superiority have the ability and sometimes that amazingly absurd but inalienable right to batter their spouses and project a sense of honour at their deeds.

Certain societies are so ensconced in the Dark Ages they almost have no prospect of arriving in the age of enlightenment, knowledge or development, they are so wedded to their customs for the purpose of serving selfish virtues in the name of misplaced honour.

The concept of shame is so warped and it never emanates from actions of the males and it is always considered the burden of the females who are then punished severely from actual bodily harm to heinous homicide by male relations who in their communities are automatically exculpated from guilt having restored honour to their clan through unspeakable violence.

Speaking up for against the unacceptable

As long as these communities generously called conservative but in reality are more savage than the wild uncivilised jungle of cannibal and fetish conclaves remain silent, women will continually be abused, forced to live inappropriately with domestic violence and made to take unreasonable rage from their spouses and male relations because that has always been acceptable, accepted and condoned with justice never intervening for the rights of the victims.

Rumana Monzur [1] of Bangladesh and her family have been convinced to go public and tell her story of the way a jealous husband with uncorroborated evidence attacked his professor wife, gouged out her eyes, bit off her nosed and launched into a character assassination of her trying to play victim.

These acts committed in the name of whatever belief system these nasty people adhere to must stop with the full force of criminal law visited on the perpetrators of this kind of violence – no human being’s existence is worthless enough to be sacrificed on the altar of this barbarity for the purpose of redeeming some virtue – my thoughts are with Rumana Monzur and my hope and wish is that she will find encouragement and all the support to pursue full happiness despite her tragedy.

Address men and dressing women

Which brings me to another matter of the Nigerian Minister of Aviation, Princess Stella Adaeze Ogiemwinyi who appears to have adopted a no-nonsense hands-on approach to her portfolio talking tough, eschewing unnecessary ceremony and getting down to the brass tacks.

As so she arrived in Kano, in the north of Nigeria and a one of those apparently conservative societies where her albeit practical and functional apparel [2] acceptable in so many places seems to have caught the displeasure of the keepers of community mores who have termed it “offensive to their cultural values.”

She was in a “smart dark long sleeve shirt and dark jeans trousers”, a picture would have spoken louder than words but I have none to display but if as the news story indicates, the governor of the state is a moderate Muslim, one would expect he would attend to the minister’s courtesy call without much fuss, as for the Emir of Kano, you have to wonder if the mountain would come to the 21^st Century or we all have to time travel to the origins of the world where cavemen modelled exotic underwear and well, the womenfolk probably never needed what we modern folk call a brassiere.

Men should take responsibility

There are people who might be concerned about conforming to certain customs and deigning to integrate to be tolerated but the real issue is the refusal of men to take responsibility for self-control in the presence of ladies who refuse to don dowdy apparel no matter how decent, cultured, fashionable and respectable they appear.

The extrapolation of this irresponsible adherence to so-called customs is exemplified in the unfortunate castigation of victims of rape where they are get blamed for the offenses committed against their person because of their appearance and rarely because of the uncontrolled and rampaging conduct of the perpetrator.

Set alight the embers of Islamic Banking

Then the Islamic Banking debate in Nigeria has escalated beyond the angst-ridden concerns of those who were opposed to it.

Now, Nigeria has always been a combustible cauldron of anxious religious uneasiness that does not need the introduction of even a pinch of peppery religious policy of any kind before the battlements are set up and the war of words accentuate the wedges of discord within that nation.

Islamic Banking thrives in many countries, however in Nigeria, the idea has failed to appreciate its community; my advocacy has always been that Nigeria is such a country that requires probably the strictest separation of religion and state just because of the way religion excites uncontrolled passions, intemperate utterances and unreasonable conflict leading to destruction of life of property – Nigeria is just a very volatile country when it comes to religion.

Nigeria’s Pandora’s Box

The smarter idea should have been to secularise the concept of Islamic Banking, define it as Participant Banking, lay out the rules of engagement in the most expansive terms and then offered that this banking concept was compatible, similar and analogous to Islamic Banking – it would be been a master-stroke of the genius of semantics – sometimes words use matter more than their deeper meanings.

However, as usual, Nigeria’s Pandora’s Box of various items of religious import has not been completely emptied and every time we find ways to slam it shut with objective discourse and reason someone kicks it open spilling it contents with some religiously-biased initiative that just heats up the polity.

The Supreme Council for Sharia in Nigeria (SCSN) is probably a matured, reasonable and objective organisation that has decided to abort the consideration of conciliation by allaying fears or educating the ignorant whilst dealing with sometimes unwarranted suspicion and suggested that Muslims are ready to go to war if Islamic Banking does not materialise as promoted by the Central Bank of Nigeria.

Jihad lines drawn

This Jihadist tone is at best unfortunate and bordering on incitement as they declare that they are ready to “defend the implementation of the Islamic banking system (also known as non-interest banking), with the last drop of their blood.”

Sadly, this would have certain Nigerians pushed forward to be sacrificed for this cause as the instigators stand back washing their hands in the blood of fellow countrymen in the name of religion the government now doubly blackmailed caught between the fears of non-Muslims and threat of war by the Muslims.

The core lesson that remains unlearnt after all these years is that Nigeria is in no way ripe for the easy accommodation of religiously-based systems be they legal, financial, economic, social or commercial as other less volatile nations may be where Islamic Banking thrives like the United Kingdom for instance apart from purely Islamic countries.

And …

Jaiz International Bank PLC with its website having exceeded its bandwidth which was incorporated in 2003 as the vehicle for Islamic Banking once had as its chairman and one cannot say if he remains so the father of the Christmas Day pants bomber Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, not that anything should be read into that connection at all.

This is going to be a problem that extends beyond the ructions that the introduction of Sharia Law in the North of Nigeria caused, it was avoidable and manageable, if the initiators were conscious and committed to peace and unity within Nigeria – one wonders if some are ready to break the back of Nigeria on the altar of religion with the SCSN already signifying the tyranny of the majority is ready to make insignificant the concerns of the minority.

Sources

[1] Muslim ‘Honor’ Crimes: Rumana Monzur Allegedly Mauled by Her Husband - The Daily Beast

[2] allAfrica.com: Nigeria: Minister's Dress Sets Tongues Wagging in Kano

[3] The Punch: Islamic banking: Muslims ready to go to war – Sharia Council