The absence of ornaments on men's bodies and clothing for two centuries was a historical anomaly. Things are now getting back to normal
By P.W. | MAASTRICHT
TUTANKHAMUN went to his grave decked out in gold, and for millennia after, jewellery was for men as much as for women. For a short time, though, jewellery made a disappearance from men. It now seems to be making a welcome comeback. Pharrell Williams walked the red carpet at this year’s Oscars, where “Hidden Figures”—which he co-produced and co-wrote music for—was up for three awards. Had there been an award for Best Dressed, he could have won it. Black tails, white shirt, black tie and multiple strands of chains were all by Chanel, as was the large gold and diamond brooch that twinkled on his left lapel. Mixing relatively cheap costume-jewellery line (the chains) and couture (the diamonds), he looked just dandy bejewelled.
Glass, seed pods, gems, animal horn, precious metals, carved ivory, plastic and hair have all been used throughout history to dress up the male as well as the female figure. Whether dressed in togas, feathers, breeches or gowns, whether as poor as Joan of Arc or rich as a Rothschild, and regardless of geography or sexual identification, humans have long ornamented their bodies and clothes. Jewels have been pledges of love, mementos of the dead, means of seduction and tools for gaining prestige and power. Kings, queens, chiefs and maharajas have covered themselves in jewels to demonstrate and augment their might. Facing execution in the English Civil War, Charles I used a single jewel as a searing emblem of noblesse. He crossed the scaffold to his beheading wearing a splendid, pear-shaped pearl dangling from his ear.
So what happened to make a man in jewels exceptional? The 18th century saw many a strutting male peacock on the fashion scene, and this seems to have provoked a subsequent sharp reaction against the trend: a 19th and 20th century dominated by far more conservative male dress, with jewels limited to cufflinks and watches. (This under-studied topic would be a rich subject for a post-graduate thesis.)
The rebellion began in the 1960s, with hippies in beads. This was followed, in the 1980s, by hip-hoppers blinding fans with bling. Out-and-proud gay men followed: Elton John made no secret for his love of gem-set brooches, rings and drop earrings. and today one of the most delightful and longest standing, gender-neutral forms of human adornment is gaining traction. Bruce Springsteen wears earrings and necklaces, and his fans' hearts throb.
The fun has begun, and not only in Hollywood, on the catwalk or the stage. Not long ago, at a dinner in Paris hosted by Wallace Chan, a Hong Kong jewellery designer, one of his major collectors, a broad-chested Taiwanese industrialist wore a large Chan gem encrusted brooch of running horses on his lapel. (He and his wife swap it back and forth.) Two weeks ago in Maastricht, at the preview party for TEFAF, the world’s biggest art and antiques fair, dress ranged from informal to glamorous. Not only women but men wore jewellery, and many of the men who did were happy to talk about what they wore and why. On his beautifully cut dark suit, a Belgian aristocrat had pinned a Cartier art-deco brooch. Like his ring and watch, it was big and set with many white diamonds. Now middle aged, he says that this has been his thing since he was 17. A Dutch hair- and make-up artist also started in his teens. Today, he is an all-over, self-created ornament. Heavily tattooed, with a modified Mohawk, rings of stainless steel rimmed the circumference of the big holes in his ears. “It’s part of the tribal thing,” he explained. His black tie was covered in squares of bright red glass. “I have boxes of jewels, junk and real,” he says. He dips in and customises his look for the day. He enjoys it—and sees it as a kind of branding.
Visually more conservative by far, another Dutchman wore one of a pair of South Indian gold and ruby pierced earrings as a lapel brooch. Finely crafted, it was unusual yet discreet. He wears jewels too when at his human-resources job at a Dutch bank. Other men admire them, but say they are too scared to follow his lead. His reply: “Wear something. It will distinguish you from the average.” At a recent exhibition opening in London, a few fellows were following that advice, with brooches in their lapels. It looked so right and so natural that it was almost easy to overlook them.
As the Belgian aristocrat at Maastricht observed, where homosexuals led, metrosexuals are following. He’ll soon have more competition for the white-diamond jewels he prefers. Perhaps in ten years people will need to find a different way to distinguish themselves from the crowd, as jewels will be for everyone once more.
