Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Boutonnière for beginners

The boutonnière - a fresh-cut flower worn on one's lapel - is one of the most outrageous style statements a traditiontal-minded male can make. As such, it is probably only a question of time before a certain droopy-eared Lord will make the plunge.

(John Steed sporting a boutonnière)

But when, like Lord Bassington-Bassington, one moves in circles where even a jacket can be seen as a bit excessive (and let's not even mention His Lordship's penchant for bow ties...) it can be a bit daunting to show up sporting a boutonnière. One needs some way to practice, to ease into it.

So thank Heavens for The Knottery, a Canadian company that produces beautiful felt flowers for one's lapel. The flowers are as beautiful as any boutonnière, but the discreet fabric and size makes them less ostentatious.

Being a sucker for the classics, Lord Bassington-Bassington went for the red rose version. A solid neofolk pick, we'd say. But with a price of just 8 US dollars for such a beautiful, hand-made item, there probably isn't really any excuse for getting other colours as well.

But this is when the challenges start. How do you match these flowers to your pocket hankies?

Lord Bassington-Bassington would like to tip his hat to some rather amazing French brothers for bringing these flowers to his attention.


  1. BB, this is a step too far!
    Fakery and facsimile are to be crushed at every opportunity. Felt flowers may be perfectly acceptable adorning ladies' half-hats but a real bloom in a chap's buttonhole is surely desirable because of it's very transience, it's fleeting feshness, its alluring scent. Its brief nature alerts others that one has communed with nature that very morning instead of rooting around in a dusty sock drawer looking for some old, matted wool. Sir, you have driven me to the gin a good 4 hours earlier than usual!

  2. My dear worker-dandy; surely, if that great movement known as "Punk" taught us anything, it is that one's attire should aim to annoy one's surroundings. And anarcho-dandyism, a philosophy I am very sympathetic towards, is surely partly derived from punk.

    So if the thought of a humble piece of felt that hasn't even been worn on my lapel yet has caused somebody in a foreign country to take to drink, I shall consider it a triumph of anarchy-dandyism!

    Now, let me tell you about the pre-tied polyester bow tie in Burberry check I just bought...

  3. Oh dear! I'll fetch the smelling salts.

    I felt sure that a rugged worker with a taste for Soviet motorbikes and Molotov cocktails could take a little tomfoolery...

  4. The mere mention of Burberry sends me into a delirium, fine upstanding emporium though it once was.
    No matter, for I am clad in dirty jeans and faded Noise Conspiracy T-shirt today for there is now a hound residing at WDI HQ. I need to find him a waiscoat.

  5. Burberry was, of course, chosen for its shock value. I like their trench coats, but any piece of clothing branded with their tartan is now surely an embarrassment to any wardrobe.

    I can relate to your outfit, as I am currently wearing a band shirt and shorts myself. As you correctly point out, hounds look best in waistcoats, but sometimes one just has to enjoy the short but glorious Nordic summer.

  6. Speaking of the (International?) Noise Conspiracy, I was never a big fan. But one of my more entertaining mornings in the 90s was when I waddled into the living room I shared with a couple of humans to find Refused sleeping there. I remember Dennis taking a keen interest in my bookshelf.