Post by johnwatts05 on Oct 28, 2015 12:06:30 GMT
The predominance of Cardigan wear by men of particularly high ability is a marked current trend, but why that should be so is not always generally known. Most people know that Lord Cardigan popularised it at the gaming tables, but many are not aware of it's special significance in mediaeval times. Then, often known as a Hauberk., it was produced by blacksmiths in knitted steel form and was so effective in battle that, quite apart from the over praised long bow, it was the main reason for English fighting successes on the Continent. At around about this time, in an era before central heating and cellular undergarments, the easy regulation of body temperature possible with a multi-buttoned garment accounted for it's extension into civil fields. A popularity that has continued to this day providing both airy comfort at the end of day, and warmth in the garden, or between M & S's chilly aisles, but of course there is much more to it than this.
Mine is a special stalwart that has been in many adventures with me. Both in work and play we have achieved much, and indeed are rarely seen apart. This is not just a routine stout boot or handy hat association; here is communion of a much higher order, born over many years of close association. This seems to puzzle many, who will scoff at such an idea; but the bearer will be quite certain that there is a real element of symbiosis between him and his garment. To bring understanding to the unconvinced I draw a parallel with religion. We have absolute faith that there is more than knitted wool here, so of course, rational objections can carry no weight at all. This leads to persecution from sceptics but such has often been the fate of those who see beyond the mundane.
The lady I live with though is a professed unbeliever, and as such people often do, parades disapproval of anyone with real spiritual aspiration. I have caught her trying to hide the garment in the deepest recesses of our wardrobe and when shopping she consistently tries to get me to replace it with something untrammelled and new. There is no doubt she would dispose of it if she dared. A continual threat requiring constant vigilance.
Cardigan bearers, who invariably are of active mind and mien, often have adventures worth listening to; some aspiring, like the time I scaled their roof to rescue the neighbours hamster, or when I organised a human chain to haul my car from the Weston tide. Some have been exciting but less heroic, like occasional intellectual pipe musings of an incendiary termination.
It often intrigues me when I spot miss-buttoning, a clear indication of poor Cardigan-man-ship, by persons unaware that the incidence of such error arises from the incorrect choice of first button. Of course the chance of a perfect rig varies inversely with it's distance from either end. The perfectionist, perhaps an unnecessary qualification to apply here, will always start at the top. One can readily see the logic of this as attrition of the lower working areas by ordinary wear and tear becomes evident.
Cardigan man will never overload his pockets. He prefers to spread his artefacts around him, He may lose one, but this is the natural order of things. One can carry them in a container but this hazards a greater loss; and here hangs a cautionary tale. A good friend of mine recently made one of these with canvas loops and stout sacking, it took him a lot of time and effort; Cardigan men being often more proficient in intellectual activities than practical ones. It proved a salutary lesson on embarking on a troubled sea to meet insignificant problems; because he injured himself severely the first time he used it. This happened when hastily hoisting it to his shoulder he inadvertently trapped his left foot in a loop.
In summary Cardigan man is the buttress of a mature society, and quite a romantic one really.
A true man for all seasons, suitably and practically clad for all events. A veritable stalwart in a changing world. You can meet him in the heat of summer or on a cold winters day. He strides with confidence,his pockets are few but he has ready to hand, a small penknife, a free bus-card, a retractable tape measure, and above all a bounty of advice drawn from a full life of long experience. He is an icon missing from Hollywood epics; but then they have little interest in quiet competence; and he is too quintessentially English anyway. Thank goodness, you may well say.
Imagine, the scene is your home town. Can you see him, thumbs in pockets, swaggering ruggedly down the high street “How dee to y'all, folks” he drawls.
I think not !
John Watts 8 1 13 / 22 10. 15
Mine is a special stalwart that has been in many adventures with me. Both in work and play we have achieved much, and indeed are rarely seen apart. This is not just a routine stout boot or handy hat association; here is communion of a much higher order, born over many years of close association. This seems to puzzle many, who will scoff at such an idea; but the bearer will be quite certain that there is a real element of symbiosis between him and his garment. To bring understanding to the unconvinced I draw a parallel with religion. We have absolute faith that there is more than knitted wool here, so of course, rational objections can carry no weight at all. This leads to persecution from sceptics but such has often been the fate of those who see beyond the mundane.
The lady I live with though is a professed unbeliever, and as such people often do, parades disapproval of anyone with real spiritual aspiration. I have caught her trying to hide the garment in the deepest recesses of our wardrobe and when shopping she consistently tries to get me to replace it with something untrammelled and new. There is no doubt she would dispose of it if she dared. A continual threat requiring constant vigilance.
Cardigan bearers, who invariably are of active mind and mien, often have adventures worth listening to; some aspiring, like the time I scaled their roof to rescue the neighbours hamster, or when I organised a human chain to haul my car from the Weston tide. Some have been exciting but less heroic, like occasional intellectual pipe musings of an incendiary termination.
It often intrigues me when I spot miss-buttoning, a clear indication of poor Cardigan-man-ship, by persons unaware that the incidence of such error arises from the incorrect choice of first button. Of course the chance of a perfect rig varies inversely with it's distance from either end. The perfectionist, perhaps an unnecessary qualification to apply here, will always start at the top. One can readily see the logic of this as attrition of the lower working areas by ordinary wear and tear becomes evident.
Cardigan man will never overload his pockets. He prefers to spread his artefacts around him, He may lose one, but this is the natural order of things. One can carry them in a container but this hazards a greater loss; and here hangs a cautionary tale. A good friend of mine recently made one of these with canvas loops and stout sacking, it took him a lot of time and effort; Cardigan men being often more proficient in intellectual activities than practical ones. It proved a salutary lesson on embarking on a troubled sea to meet insignificant problems; because he injured himself severely the first time he used it. This happened when hastily hoisting it to his shoulder he inadvertently trapped his left foot in a loop.
In summary Cardigan man is the buttress of a mature society, and quite a romantic one really.
A true man for all seasons, suitably and practically clad for all events. A veritable stalwart in a changing world. You can meet him in the heat of summer or on a cold winters day. He strides with confidence,his pockets are few but he has ready to hand, a small penknife, a free bus-card, a retractable tape measure, and above all a bounty of advice drawn from a full life of long experience. He is an icon missing from Hollywood epics; but then they have little interest in quiet competence; and he is too quintessentially English anyway. Thank goodness, you may well say.
Imagine, the scene is your home town. Can you see him, thumbs in pockets, swaggering ruggedly down the high street “How dee to y'all, folks” he drawls.
I think not !
John Watts 8 1 13 / 22 10. 15