RISE AND FALL OF THE MALE EARRING

Press, 8 July 1983, Page 14

RISE AND FALL OF THE MALE EARRING

DAVID THOMAS,

!, of the London “Observer/’ probes the lobes

of fashionable men.

Mr Elton John, “The Times” reported recently, sported a solitary diamond earring as he watched Watford Football Club, of which he is the chairman, defeat the Chinese national side 3-0 in Shanghai. Meanwhile in London, hardened sports journalists blanched as Charlie Nicholas (“the goalscoring wonderkid of Scottish soccer”) signed for Arsenal wearing his favourite leather suit and a similar diamond stud.

If the earring has succeeded the kipper tie as the favoured decoration of the football world, we can be sure that it has lost its standing as an item of male chic, and has become accepted as the sine qua non for the kind of macho man who wears Brut aftershave. These are the would-be warriors of society and it is no coincidence that one finds the most exuberant displays of male decoration among genuine fighting men. The ceremonial uniforms of our smarter regiments are a reminder of days when soldiers did not devote their efforts to camouflage but to maximum visibility — with their bearskin hats, plumed helmets, golden breastplates, and brightly coloured clothes. Then there are the tribal warriors of the world: the Zulu with their head-dresses of buffalo horns, beads, and feathers; the Masai, whose silver earrings hang from grossly distended, even knotted, ear-lobes.

In the days when our supposedly more civilised society was ruling the bone-wearing peoples of the world, no self-respecting Englishman would have dreamed of wearing any personal decoration more ostentatious then a discreetly jewelled pair of cufflinks. It was not always thus.

Henry VIII livened up his giant torso with a chain of magnificent rubies. None of your Costa de Sol baubles shyly peeking out between the chest hairs here; these were rocks with which none of the ladies of the court could compete, let alone the men.

Henry’s Stuart successors were equally flamboyant. James I sacrificed comfort for ostentation and covered his breeches in pearls, which may account for his inability to sit still throughout long regal functions. Similarly, the slovenly carriage of his head could be explained by the fact that his hats were weighed down by a further mass of jewels. Among them was The Mirror of Britain, a concoction of rubies and diamonds that symbolised the union of England and Scotland.

James’s favourite, George Villiers, later created Duke of Buckingham, went for the simple but elegant approach. One pear-shaped pearl dangled from his right ear. This is the first occasion on which we meet the “which ear means which” controversy. It has long been thought that one can tell a man’s sexual orientation by the ear in which he places his ring, stud, or chandelier, but the theory is handicapped by the fact that no-one can remember whether it is the right or left that best serves their purpose. Many’s the heterosexual, but fashion-conscious male who has agonised over the decision, but no conclusive answer has ever emerged. My informants were evenly split as to the location of the gay lobe, with one of them suggesting

that if a red handkerchief in the right trouser pocket signifies passivity, whilst one in the left suggests a more active temperament, the same might be true for earrings. The argument continues.

To return to the less controversial field of history, the Puritan ethic was not one which encouraged decoration, but with the Restoration and the Enlightenment a more relaxed attitude was taken towards a gentleman’s style of dress. Jewellery was less prominent, but gems were still to be seen on buttons and snuff boxes.

It was only with the advent of Beau Brummel, who — contrary to his dandyish reputation — advocated more, rather than less, sartorial restraint, that men reverted to a Puritan simplicity in their fashions. Queen Victoria, one need hardly add, was not a lady who liked to be surrounded by men with pierced ears. With the exception of the pearls sported by Errol Flynn in “The Adventures of Don Juan” (1949), it was not until the 1960 s that men began to wear jewellery again, and the late 1960 s at that. No flash Mod or Rocker would have been seen dead in an earring, but hippies were prepared to do almost anything in the cause of peace and love.

What difference did the odd piece of jewellery make to a man’s virility when he was already decked out in shoulder-length hair, a floppy hat, and psychedelic flower-power shirt? Thom O’Dwyer, the dapper fashion editor of “Menswear” magazine, can recall having his ears pierced in 1969.

now simply a phase; the urban equivalent to school-girls’ ponies. Parents should not therefore be alarmed by swollen ears and a Mohican haircut; the lobes will soon heal and all the smartest kids are now wearing short hair and suits and voting Conservative. Ageing trendies may find that the unkindest cut of all.

“I was,” he confesses, “totally hippy then.” By the 1970 s Real Men had moved on to the infamous chestwig and medallion look, many of them working on the principle that if you were losing your hair on top, you might as well show off what you still had left further down. With the arrival of Glam Rock, and the epicene appeal of stars such as David Bowie, Marc Bolan and Brian Eno, it became all the rage for the teenage heart-throbs of the Lower Sixth to deck themselves out in the gaudiest costume jewellery available. Confirming the law that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, the gay fashion scene, which had seen effeminacy adopted by straight young men, went to the other extreme: enter the lumberjack, cowboy, and military policeman — tall, dark, silent, and homosexual. The arrival of Punk Rock in 1976, and its discovery by adult journalists over the next couple of years, provoked a reversion by teenagers to tribal decorative rites that would have shocked the most battle-hardened New Guinea warrior. The skin of the average 17-year-old male is not a happy sight at the best of times. But its appearance following the insertion of a safety-pin through both nostrils and a cheek, and the piercing of both earl-lobes several times with an old needle out of Mum’s sewing-box, all of which incisions have promptly turned septic, is too ghastly to stand description. Punk has ceased to be any kind of creative youth movement. It is

For the up-to-date intelligence on the state of the male earring I turned to Mr O’Dwyer at “Menswear.” He told me that Adam Ant’s swashbuckling pirate look had inspired a brief vogue for dangling skulls and crossbones in 1981.

Was the earring acceptable in 1983, I asked? “It depends on what your definition of acceptable is,” he replied. “It’s not in, in — it’s just established. Currently the most important thing is the tie-bar, although collar-pins are out. They were hot last year.” He was scathing about the men’s jewellery on offer these days. “No young, trendy or fashionable man would wear the ostentatious or vulgar stuff being done now. It’s chi-chi and nouveau. You should haunt the antique markets for styles from the Twenties and Fifties.”

For a final word on the subject I spoke to Phillippa Gimlette at the Men In vogue department of “Vogue” magazine. She pointed out that when doing a menswear feature, “We never use a male model with pierced ears, and we never put any rings on him.” She was, however, prepared to accept the occasional jewel, though she had this to say about the modern man: “He never wears earrings, and he never wears anything around his neck. And he certainly doesn’t wear anything around his ankle.”