Spent all day looking at art (by Daumier) | Image: Wikimedia Commons

The author of the poem “Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker” got it all wrong: any self-respecting dandy would agree that liquor trumps candy when it comes to “dandiness.” So does sartorial elegance, quick-witted banter, and quoting “The Flowers of Evil”, probably.

But the elusive images of exclusive gentlemen clubs, smoky salons, and top hats hide, or at least disguise, the true definition of a dandy. Let us then embark on the noble quest of defining, identifying, and maybe seeking out the modern version of such a rare breed. Who were or even are dandies? On whose side are they?

Table of Contents

The Birth of a Myth

Finding out the origins of the heroes of our quest requires a brief time travel to London in the late 18th century. If we’re careful to avoid the horse carriages, we may be lucky enough to make Sir Beau Brummell’s acquaintance, and he will tell us everything he knows about the topic while smoking a cigar in his decorous apartment, probably.

Dandies, he’ll sure say, never come from upper classes. Those in the ups, lords and such, think their lifestyle ordinary and, so, pay little attention to the lavish beauty of art or exquisite mastery of their cooks. They need someone from the middle class, an intelligent loner, to show them the pleasures of a beautiful life.

Dandies appeared at the crossroads of the end of aristocracy and the birth of democracy. They came to define the “new” aristocracy: reminiscent of the English ideas about the perfect gentleman, yet with no blue blood to back it up. Dandyism is a cult of a person, not background. If you’re more amusing than the prince, who cares if your father is merely a politician, am I right? (Brummell is smirking, probably.)