What constitutes a gentleman? I’ve been pondering the question ever since running across two friends of mine who announced they’d just become engaged. Upon offering congratulations to the would-be bride, I was firmly reprimanded by her partner. “Don’t you know?” he exclaimed. “It’s bad manners to congratulate the woman. It’s the groom who’s supposed to be considered the lucky one.”
Duly corrected, I made my apologies. But my solecism has stayed with me. What on earth is a man to do when there are so many traps awaiting the socially unwary?
Well help is at hand. The magazine Country Life, a publication established in 1897, has published a list of dos and don’ts for the prospective gentleman. No longer is it merely acceptable to open doors, hold your knife and fork correctly or offer your seat on the train. Instead, the magazine offers a thoroughly 21st century guide to good manners.
The list of dos, at least, is reassuringly straightforward. A true gentleman is always on time, dresses to suit the occasion, and is mindful of others’ financial circumstances.
The list of don’ts, however, is more baffling. The surest giveaway of bad breeding is anyone who wears a pre-tied bow tie. Other telltale signs include putting product in one’s hair, writing with a ballpoint pen, or, wearing fuchsia-coloured trousers.
One especially grave offence is tweeting. Sharing your own personal views with all and sundry over the internet without first obtaining a proper introduction is seen as the height of bad breeding. A true gent is always discreet. Though in a bizarre twist, the use of Facebook is encouraged, just as long as it’s solely in order to “keep in touch with one’s many God-children”.
The inventory was compiled only after consultation with several leading British celebrities, each of whom offered their own items for inclusion. The TV presenter Jeremy Paxman cited a gentleman as never offering unsolicited advice, while movie star Joan Collins insisted that a true gent “never wears brown shoes at night”.
When social mores are changing so rapidly, it’s difficult to avoid putting one’ s foot in it. One friend of mine admitted to me recently that whenever he puts on smart clothes for a special occasion, he invariably ends up feeling hopelessly overdressed. Even at the swankiest events, it seems, where once a suit and tie were considered de rigueur, now an open necked shirt, blue jeans and carelessly laced brogues are the order of the day. I myself have had several experiences of offering my seat to ladies (never women) on the tube, merely to receive mild admonishment for what are obviously regarded as misplaced chauvinist conventions.
The whole issue of what is nowadays considered acceptable social protocol has been highlighted with the daily news coverage of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s recent official trip to Australia and New Zealand.
The fortnight-long tour (together with their young baby Prince George) has generated huge media interest in the UK and down under. Australia, a country famous for its laid back attitude, both to life in general and to social niceties in particular, might have expected to have given the heir to the throne a rough old time. But the event has proved a huge public relations success for the royal family, not least because the happy couple have skilfully presented themselves as thoroughly modern. Gone is much of the ceremony that would have burdened their predecessors. Instead, they’ve appeared carefree, relaxed, and, above all, informal.
Consequently, while Prince William may not have resorted to wearing fuchsia-coloured trousers, his approachable demeanour has revivified affection for the British monarchy among a whole new generation of Antipodeans.
Perhaps the abiding lesson is simply that gentlemanly conduct is always ultimately in the eye of the beholder. Many years ago I recall attending a variety show at a theatre in the north of England, during which a middle-aged soprano of substantial girth suffered a volley of abuse from a boisterous (and largely male) audience the moment she began to sing.
At last the compère could take no more and stepped to the microphone to intervene. “Please everyone,” he announced, “Let’s not forget our manners. Let’s give the old boot a chance.”
“Thank you sir” said the soprano, turning to him. “At least there’s one gentleman in the building.”
Michael Simkins is an actor and writer based in London
On Twitter: @michael_simkins
