The Wooster Style

Any readers who zealously or otherwise follow the Belmont narrative shall doubtless be aware of my regard for Sir P G Wodehouse's fictional character Bertie Wooster, and his valet Jeeves.

The 1980s television series Jeeves & Wooster portrays Bertie as sartorially subtle and generally understated (when Jeeves lays his clothing out for him at the end of the bed).

In town Bertie invariably wears subtle grey or dark blue chalk-stripe, double-breasted, three-piece suits.

Although the shirts appear white, they are far more subtle than pure white.

On closer inspection, they have feint stripes of vague greys, or a colour that matches the suit.

The ties, too, are hard to describe, because they are usually patterned, though the pattern is quiet, unfussy, and complements the other clothing.

Breast pocket handkerchiefs or pocket squares are invariably white.

The hats and gloves, and the Albert Strap all make distinctive individual accessories.

In the country Bertie generally wears shades of brown or green: country tweed jackets, sleeveless, v-neck jumpers, cable-knit perhaps; woollen patterned ties; flat caps.

Apparel like this may well be unpopular today, though to my mind true Fashion is timeless.

So Bertie's apparel is generally never loud or bold; always quiet and unfussy.

Unless, of course, he chooses to disregard Jeeves's counsel.

Wooster Advice

From Right Ho, Jeeves, written in 1934 by Sir PG Wodehouse.

Bertie Wooster hailed the spiking of Gussie Fink-Nottle's orange-juice with gin:-

"...it just shows, what any member of Parliament will tell you, that if you want real oratory, the preliminary noggin is essential. Unless pie-eyed, you cannot hope to grip."

No Smoking, Bertie!

Here’s another sublime extract from that master of prose, Sir P G Wodehouse, in his novel, Very Good, Jeeves!:-

“These are deep waters, Jeeves.”

“Precisely, sir.”

“And the ghastly part of it all is that he seems to consider it necessary, in order to keep his job, to treat me like a long-lost leper. Thus killing my only chance of having anything approaching a decent time in this abode of desolation. For do you realize, Jeeves, that my aunt says I mustn’t smoke while I’m here?”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Nor drink.”

“Why is this, sir ?”

“Because she wants me - for some dark and furtive reason which she will not explain - to impress a fellow named [the Right Hon A B] Filmer [MP].”

“Too bad, sir. However, many doctors, I understand, advocate such abstinence as the secret of health. They say it promotes a freer circulation of the blood and insures the arteries against premature hardening.”

“Oh, do they? Well, you can tell them next time you see them that they are silly asses.”

“Very good, sir.”