For the first five minutes I was absorbed in a witty critique of a society party at Claridge’s. A riposte at Samantha Cameron’s televised “estuarial” accent (which presumably is snob for ‘Essex’) kept my attention. I was further intrigued by a historical account of Jewish-American politics. But then there were complaints of pylons marring the green and pleasant land, and a feature on why gals won’t swoon at Martin Amis in the same way that guys do.
Then I got to the centrefold. Far from being photographs of scantily-clad ladies, here were articles about how to be fully-clad gentlemen. David Cameron’s penchant for having five buttons on his cuff, rather than two or three, is examined in a manner akin to investigative journalism, the writer approaching Saville Row tailors for expert accounts and referring to Cameron’s previous dress habits as if they were exhibits in a legal trial. In another piece, Celia Walden lists her style rules for sartorially-challenged men in an abrasive and imperative mode, breaking completely with the personable style that she employs in women’s magazines. According to Walden, “Mao-necked suits…[are] reserved for perverts, misfits and bisexual members of the fashion industry.” If a statement so revolting managed to bypass the editor, it would suggest that they a) had not read it, b) agreed with it heartily, or c) guilty and ashamed of that supposed error to ever bring it up lest the crime should be discovered. Had I not been distracted by an advert for a silver cigar-holder in the shape of an upturned tortoise balancing on an elephant, I might have thrown the whole magazine out of the window.
As I turned the pages, it slowly dawned on me that the eponymous Spectator was not the bewildered layperson looking up at the hullabaloo of politics and celebrity, but the ticket-holder for the upper galleries sneering down on the farce that is the shoddily-dressed British public. I asked myself whether I should be disappointed in my own lack of judgement. Surely my aptitude to tell the political agenda of a weekly magazine was better than that?
I decided eventually, after reading about designer stationary, £50,000 beds and custom-made pyjamas that I was worrying about this far more than it was necessary. After all, the writing itself was accessible and entertaining, and the reading of opinions that contrast with your own is vital for both reassessing and reaffirming your own position. The expression, ‘to take with a pinch of salt’ or, in other words, to reserve some scepticism seems especially relevant here, especially if the salt is from a silver shaker. On that note, and to dispel your disbelief of the existence of such luxury items, I will leave you with the aforementioned cigar-holder. It is a both a joy and an absurdity to behold.
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