TheARTS decorative The interior designer and socialite Nicky Haslam applies the same imagination to dressing himself as he does to the houses he revamps. Here, he explains his sartorial style PHOTOGRAPHS: MARK C O’FLAHERTY GROOMING CREDS TBC 23 Nicky Haslam, 76, at home, wearing a suit by XXXX to come I went to the last Chelsea ARTS BALL dressed as Rudolph Valentino in a white silk LOINCLOTH and ropes of PEARLS 24 artorial sounds an awfully sleek silhouette of continental playboys, the up, make sure it’s practical”. I was far more grand way of describing lumpen scowl of bovver boys, the glittered comfortable at Bunny’s infamous “fetish” what I wear. It somehow glamour of rock stars, the rule-breaking slouch party, in 1956, going with a friend who had an implies correctness and of hip-hop and — I’m afraid often laughably — absolute thing about police gear; he dressed rigid wardrobe control. If have adopted them. I’m a terrible actor, but me in full, authentic bobby-on-the-Beat only either were in my putting on some other motley gives me uniform, with, I might add, pleasing results. nature, let alone in what I confidence, which maybe is why I had a ranch Ever since then I’ve underplayed any theme. wear. My style, if so it can in Arizona in the 1960s (show me a guy who At a recent Raj White Night-themed birthday be called, is a far more hasn’t wanted to be a cowboy), have dyed my party in India, where all the guests were haphazard, day-to-day hair raven (who hasn’t yearned to be Elvis?) elaborately turbanned, I was more simply affair. Sartor, it seems, is and even attempted a pathetic imitation of that dressed in white britches and a bum-freezer an alternative word for acme of elegance, the Duke of Beaufort, whom jacket, hoping it had a Imperial mess-kit look. tailor, but for many periods everybody wants to be. I’m sure an important aspect of ones of my life, I’ve hardly been conscious of one. Oddly, now I don’t much enjoy actual fancy appearance being satisfying to oneself and While at Eton, the Regency dandy Beau dress — my heart leaps to my mouth when an others is clearing unwanted growth — no hairy Brummell created his original fashion dictum: invitation decrees circus or Star Wars. But it neck. For that, I’m reliant on Derek Hutchins, only wear sombre black, white and grey. It wasn’t always so. Shortly after leaving school, who has dealt with every phase of my hair at remained the uniform while I was at the school, I went to the last Chelsea Arts Ball at the Royal Me, his calm Kensington salon, since — as my but during the tweedy holidays I’d gaze Albert Hall dressed as Rudolph Valentino in The old friend the Italian jeweller Fulco di Verdura enviously at the teddy boys in their impudent Young Rajah, in a costume consisting solely of used to say — before the Anschluss. I never quite elegance. On leaving in the late 1950s, I met a white silk loincloth and ropes and ropes of know what moisturisers are meant to do, but David Bailey and instantly craved his mod look large (plastic) pearls; all well and good, until Sisley’s magic men’s skin stuff is a daily — the current street fashion — and was soon the mahogany stuff I’d used for an Indian-dark essential. And, of course, there’s the hygienist, wearing boxy, Italian-cut suits from Bilgorri’s tan leached treacherously onto the pristine and a regular pruning of all tufty nasal and aural in the East End, pointed shoes from Brixton whiteness, a lesson in “however exotic the get- excrescences. And there is a rigidly adhered to market, and — a treasured gift — a narrow, “don’t”: don’t ever wear evening studs, horizontally striped tie by Jacques Fath, no less. certainly not jewelled ones, with a soft-front A little later, Levi’s became available; we wore Haslam and Sybil Christopher, Richard shirt. They were — and should — only ever used their stiffness — which was barely relaxed by Burton’s ex-wife, in New York in 1964 with those board-stuff shirts you can’t button. bathing in them — with black windcheaters in The same goes for cuff links. I’m supposed to emulation of our young Hollywood gods. The have said they’re “common”, but I never did. I die was cast; I had a whole new way of dressing. maintain they are ageing, especially on young In an essay on dandies, Max Beerbohm guys, like cigars —if they knew how awful they insists dandyism is one of the decorative arts, look smoking them, they never would. that “to clothe the body that its fineness be Everyday-wise, while I’m not quite such a revealed and its meanness veiled” is a valid flibbertigibbet as Juliette Novembre in aesthetic aim. Looking pleasing or interesting Nancy Mitford’s The Blessing, who couldn’t to others is making the best of a bad — or even think of any occasion without seeing an exact good — job of the basic material, akin to picture of how she would be dressed at it, I do improving walls, designing harmonious like to work out what might interest/amuse/ surroundings or choosing beautiful accessories, delight those I’ll meet. Notice I don’t say and it is also, fundamentally, polite. I have impress. That’s not part of it, and I dread always hated my looks, longing instead to be a looking “distinguished”, rather I prefer chiselled, dark string bean rather than a “contemporary”, though that covers the dumpy mouse, and therefore have from contemporary in various periods. Spending At the Atlantic Bar in London in 2001 necessity applied a form of decoration on much time on building sites in overalls and a myself as imaginatively as I have for the many hard hat, I am greeted with “Mornin’, mate”, and varied interiors I’ve designed. rather than sniggers of “Wot’s that woofter I never had any inclination towards being a doin’ ’ere?” And elsewhere, jodhpurs aping dandy like that arch practitioner Alfred, Count Clark Gable’s early movies, chinos and loafers D’Orsay, though it must have been quite fun, like Robert Wagner in the 1950s, or the pre- for him, not least when “crowds gathered to war chic of Austrian tracht. And, of course, see him descend, insolent from his toilette”. As with age comes more formality. I’ve used for the handful of exquisitely turned-out men many Savile Row tailors; only one can cut, but in 1950s London, such as Peter Coats, Bill they all charge the earth — well, about 4,000 Ackroyd, Michael Cabron-Waterfield (who was chunks of it. Luckily now I’ve found an known as “Dandy Kim”) and the gloriously exceptional tailor in Hanish, whose deceptively outré Bunny Roger, however soigne their style, formal-sounding Bespoke Attire makes superb it smacked of the archaic. things, executed swiftly and smoothly by his I wanted to be up-to-date, aware of advances alert awareness of cut and style, and for in fashion whether street or designer. I’ve kept comparative peanuts to boot. So, I go forth my eyes peeled for changes, and admired the more soberly now, and though often not style of 1930s and 1940s movie stars, the adhering to Brummell’s strict axiom, I do see bowler hats and pinstripes of City gents, the he had a point. l Haslam in his work attire: a hard hat and overalls.