Archives For Clothing

Who doesn’t enjoy getting new clothing, especially when what we’re wearing is showing its age? C.S. Lewis could hardly be accused of a passion for keeping up with the latest fashions, but he was grateful to be adequately clothed when engaged in public endeavors.

A man of simple tastes, in 1953 he wrote an American correspondent about not attending Queen Elizabeth’s coronation. The reasons he offers are revealing.

You are quite right, I didn’t go to the Coronation. I approve of all that sort of thing immensely and I was deeply moved by all I heard of it; but I’m not a man for crowds and  Best Clothes.

I was surprised by a discovery in a long-stored box of clothing that contained five pairs of pants in near mint condition. They were none the worse for their lengthy preservation. And I would be wearing them right now if they still fit. (The length matches my current legs; the waist, not so much.)

Oh, there is one other problem. They are corduroy. Extremely popular, when they were purchased. Less so now, although I understand “the comfy fabric has made a comeback in recent years, especially with the rise of thrifting, since corduroy is an incredibly durable fabric that is a common find in vintage shops.”

Returning to C.S. Lewis, we see he didn’t possess the embarrassing surplus of clothing most of us take for granted. In fact during WWII (1939-45) and its aftermath, Europeans suffered great deprivation. Britain’s recovery from the Second World War took some time, and the Lewis’ weathered the hardships with the assistance of friends in the United States.

Because of C.S. Lewis’ generosity, the gifts Americans periodically sent to him were shared with many beyond his own household. Although clothes rationing had formally ended in 1949, food continued to be rationed five more years, until 1954.

Edward Allen was one of Lewis’ benefactors. He began sending personal support parcels in 1948. As the following letter from Lewis shows, these included clothes as well as food items.

That perfection of packing, parcel no. 184 has just arrived, and I have spent a pleasant ten minutes dismembering it. Normally we won’t open your parcels when we get them, but reserve them for that moment of domestic crisis which so constantly arrives—“We shall have to open one of Edward Allen’s parcels” we say. But I tackled this one at once on account of the clothes.

The suit is just the thing I want for the summer, if there should happen to be a summer, which at the moment looks unlikely. (My brother skillfully annexed the last one you sent, and is still wearing it: on the strength of which he had the impudence to recommend this one to me)!

Once normalcy had returned to Britain, Lewis went to great effort to discourage continued generosity of this type. In 1956 he wrote another regular American friend after receiving an unsolicited Christmas present.

A thousand thanks. But look: you must stop. We never send any one any presents, so why should we get any. Our real name is Scrooge.

In truth, C.S. Lewis’ generosity abounded. In Mere Christianity he discusses the question of how generous Christians should be. I most strongly commend this principle to everyone wondering how they should arrange their own finances.

I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc, is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little.

If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditure excludes them.

For more about Lewis’ personal generosity, read “The Generous Heart and Life of C.S. Lewis.” The author points out, “as Lewis’s books became popular, large royalties poured in. Rather than upgrade his lifestyle, Lewis decided to maintain his current standard of living and give the rest away.”

As I mentioned above, C.S. Lewis also shared the contents of the post-war parcels he received. Presumably this extended to elements of clothing, as well. No doubt though, if he had received a fine corduroy suit, even the “endlessly generosity” of C.S. Lewis would have been stretched to its limits.

C.S. Lewis and Garters

September 15, 2020 — 14 Comments

I don’t know whether or not C.S. Lewis wore garters. And, trust me, I have no interest in learning the answer to that trivia question. Nevertheless, a recent advertisement caught my eye in a 1925 issue of the American Legion Weekly.

Never having worn a garter, it struck me as interesting ad placement—in a veteran’s publication. I attributed the male use of hosiery to the lack of reliable elastic substitutes for stockings a century ago.

Even as I was reading the advertisement, I recalled the peculiar name of one of the United Kingdom’s most distinguished societies, the Most Noble Order of the Garter. Established a few years back, in 1348 it is one of Britain’s most revered orders of knighthood. And, like any lover of adventures, I know knights are pretty cool.

C.S. Lewis was once offered a royal title—albeit, not a knighthood in the prestigious Order of the Garter. Lewis declined the honor. He declined because he believed the politics involved would distract attention from his work as a Christian apologist.

Regular readers of Mere Inkling know that I am not wont to cite Wikipedia as a source, but the following description of their motto is enlightening.

Various legends account for the origin of the Order. The most popular involves the “Countess of Salisbury,” whose garter is said to have slipped from her leg while she was dancing at a court ball at Calais. When the surrounding courtiers sniggered, the king picked it up and returned it to her, exclaiming, Honi soit qui mal y pense! (“Shame on him who thinks ill of it!”), the phrase that has become the motto of the Order.

However, the earliest written version of this story dates from the 1460s, and it seems to have been conceived as a retrospective explanation for the adoption of what was then seen as an item of female underclothing as the symbol of a band of knights.

Times they were a-changin’ and garters had apparently become more associated with feminine wearers during the intervening century.

Fordham University has a delicate medieval “fringed garter” on display at this site.

Despite both sexes utilising the garter, the accessory was more associated with men because it was visible on their bodies. Women wore garters in the same location as men, but their long dresses concealed them, thus giving medieval Londoners the perception that it was more widely used by men. Since women’s garters were not visible to the eye, there is limited information in regards to women’s use of garters.

C.S. Lewis had better things to write about than garters. About knights, for example, he had much to say. He composed stories about them even during his childhood.

As an adult, Lewis’ focus rested on the quintessential attribute of true knighthood—chivalry.

Yes, the very word “chivalry” reeks of a bygone era that has been superseded and relegated to history books. But those who consider the concept outdated impoverish their lives and quite possibly contribute to the violent spirit of our age.

There does exist, however, a passing reference in one of C.S. Lewis’ letters to the fabled Order of the Garter. It was in 1952, and Lewis was illustrating the truth that Christianity is a faith based on grace. It cannot be earned. No one deserves divine forgiveness . . . yet it is freely offered through the miracle of the Atonement.

In his letter, Lewis quotes Lord Melbourne who held an irreverent opinion related to the Order. He considered its bestowal of honor to be arbitrary or political, rather than being based on a recipient’s worthiness.

Of course, none of us have “any right” at the altar. You might as well talk of a non-existent person “having a right” to be created. It is not our right but God’s free bounty. An English peer said, “I like the Order of the Garter because it has no dam’ nonsense about merit.” Nor has Grace. And we must keep on remembering that as a cure for Pride.

Apparently, Lord Melbourne did not take seriously the warning Honi soit qui mal y pense!

Sadly, it does not appear the George Frost Company currently sells garters, but you can find a number of their past products here, including the “Velvet Grip Rubber Button Hose Supporter for Boys and Girls.”

And all hope of garter-joy has not vanished. If you are in the market for medieval style garters—for reenacting, perhaps—you can purchase them here.

Whether you choose to emulate the Order of the Garter or not, please do not “think ill of it!”

Religious Kitsch

October 13, 2015 — 8 Comments

socksAre souvenir socks a good way of celebrating one of the move pivotal points in human history? That’s right, stockings. Socks emblazoned with one of the most famous statements of Christian faith made during the past millennium.

Hier stehe ich!” “Here I stand” (on the clear message of God’s word). This was Martin Luther’s steadfast defense where his salvation on the teaching that we are saved by God’s grace and mercy, not by our own efforts.

Ich kann nicht anders.” I can do no other, Luther continued. He invited his adversaries to correct him if they could show him in error, according to the Scriptures.

We are beginning a season when many people are celebrating the 500th anniversary of the Reformation of the Church. Some of the commemorations are quite noteworthy. Others . . . less so.

On the positive side, I rank near the top The Wittenberg Project, the restoration of the Old Latin School in the city where Luther preached the Gospel.

Near the other extreme, I have to place the “Here I Stand” socks. While I briefly considered purchasing a pair for one of my sons, my admittedly plebian sense of fashion saved me from doing so. (If you, on the other hand, find them tasteful or suitable for an acquaintance, you’ll find a link to the footwear below.)*

In his essay, “What Christmas Means to Me,” C.S. Lewis describes this sort of product. In his description of the “commercial racket” associated with the season, he writes:

I condemn it on the following grounds. . . . Things are given as presents which no mortal ever bought for himself – gaudy and useless gadgets, ‘novelties’ because no one was ever fool enough to make their like before.

Have we really no better use for materials and for human skill and time than to spend them on all this rubbish?

I understand that one person’s “rubbish,” though, can be another’s treasure. Still, as Edward Veith writes in The State of the Arts:

The problem with religious kitsch is that its cuteness and self-gratifying nature can domesticate and thereby distort Biblical faith. Christianity is not a sickly, sweet religion . . . The anemic figurines of Jesus Christ are poor testimony to His deity and His lordship.

Viewing It All in (a Humorous) Perspective

sockeWhile surfing the net researching this peculiar item, I encountered an entertaining website where we see how the Catholic—Reformer struggle lives on today.

A Roman Catholic website comments on the same sort of socks—tastefully offered in the original German. The author of The Ironic Catholic writes:

With all due apologies to my Lutheran brothers and sisters: while this catapults you into a real race with the Catholics for kitsch, we will crush you like grapes in this arena.

It’s all good-natured, of course. I haven’t bothered to research Catholic variations on the footings quotations front, but I imagine they are equally pithy.

I did, however, find one prolific Roman Catholic author whose following statement might be just as suitable for a hat as for stockings.

“It is because we are standing on our heads that Christ’s philosophy seems upside-down.” (G.K. Chesterton)

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* You can order your own pair of “Here I Stand” socks here.

** The Ironic Catholic post is here.