The Jaguar
We are here to look at the Jaguars: one created by God, and one created by man.
The jaguar in the jungle is a gorgeous creature that kills, with style. Get too close, and it will kill you. With grace and agility. That’s its style. The one created by man, is a gorgeous machine that will take us places. Its style is smoothness, beauty, enjoyment.
That is the theme of our little essay. Style.
Style means, in the manner of. When we ask, what is your style, we ask, how do you live? Can we see it, visually? Yes. Can we see it in your conduct? Yes.
An example of a specific lifestyle, is the homeless. They live a certain way, on the street, and they conduct themselves a certain way, addicted, and careless. The artistic lifestyle is one of a great deal of caring, for a unique expression, visually, or audibly. We can peg these individuals by the way they look at life.
Jaguars always have a great deal of style in the respect of grace and beauty. Both cat and car. For they are both sleek, sexy, and, elegant in their speed.
That kitty in the jungle will forever have its style. It is in their DNA. Well, come to think of it, cats of all sizes, tend to have style. Their style is grace and agility. The Jaguar is a bigger cat, and more muscular than its faster running cousin, the Cheetah. Here is the Jaguar’s details:
Length - 5-6 feet
Weight - 100-250 lbs
Diet - carnivore
Speed - 50 mph
Life span - 12-15 years
Native habitat - South America, up through Central America, Mexico, and the Southwestern area of the USA.
The Jaguar is the second fastest cat on the planet. The Cheetah, that slick, sleek beast, can get up to 70 mph, easily. That baby can keep up with traffic on a California freeway. The Jaguar, being more muscular, kills its pray with its jaws of death. The Jaguar was also thought of as a god when their kind were plentiful in South America. That their numbers dwindle is sad, and I am in favor of conservation measures. Argentina and Brazil would be excellent candidates for a wild animal preserve for these stylish killers.
The Jaguar automobile is also sleek, fast and fit transportation for a god. But we humans can have one as well. Some of you will prefer the newer models, like the I Pace, which is an EV. Jaguars also have the fuel injectable, a sedan, and a SUV. The sports model is the F type. It comes in both a coupe and convertible. The convertible will set you back $115,000.
Of course, it is the sporty version I dream of. But not for 2023. I’m looking backwards, to 1959.
I am a historian. I am always looking backwards. And, assuredly, there is stuff back there that is way superior to the stuff we have today. Like the Jaguar XK 150 roadster.
Be still my heart!
Being a girl who will only drive red cars, of course, I will want it in red. Like the one in the picture. Continuing on with my most self-centered rant today, I also want suits made my Chanel, Balmain, and Dior.
Okay, ask the question, are suits by Chanel, Balmain and Dior, circa 1959, better looking than the ones made today? Yes! Indeed, any suit made in 1959 is better than most suits made today. Both for women, and men.
I don’t complain about workmanship, mind you. I am speaking strictly of style. The classy stuff. As in elevating one’s game, overall, in life.
So, what is my evidence that things, style wise, are descending into a pit?
I offer up, exhibit A: Fetterman, from Pennsylvania, dressing in gym clothes to take his seat in the senate.
Fetterman’s lack of decorum, is simply the latest signal that our society is being swallowed by the muck and mire that have brought us to this place. Men who sing, not of sophisticated ladies, but of whores, well, consider that exhibit B. Exhibit C? The love affair of clothing that stretches to reveal every curve and profusion of the human body. And Exhibit D, is the morbid obesity we see, every day, on the streets. Where is either self respect or self love, when 30% of the population cram junk food into their mouth, every damn day?
BTW, Fetterman’s wife dresses much better than he does. Next time, vote her Mrs. Fetterman.
In the future, will the voters of Pennsylvania vote in a drag queen, as their mouth piece in the senate? Said drag queen will now be allowed all due rights and privileges of the United States Congress. He can wear his pretty dress, and wear way too much makeup, in the halls of our senate.
Come to think of it, drag queens dress better. They at least try for a little style.
Do any of you blame me in my longing for 1959?
New York City, Paris, London, Hong Kong, they were exciting cities back then. There were no gangs of thugs breaking into department stores, grabbing expensive items and then dashing out the door. No social media to waste one’s time in endless arguments. No worries about AI. No shit on the sidewalks. People were hustling for a better gig, and they wanted to look good while they were at it. They wore shark skin suits, and drove classy roadsters to go along with their quest. It was called dressing the part. Wanna be rich? Look rich. You would want the individual interviewing you for the step up, to think you belonged on that elite team.
Perhaps the voters of Fetterman do not think the US Senate is an elite team? Well, I would have to partly agree with that. Too many whores in parliament, as the saying goes.
What is gorgeous about women’s suits, back then, is the tight skirt, paired with a man’s suit coat, that was cut for a woman’s body. Tight skirts have been worn before. By the Egyptian women of old. The idea of a woman wearing a man’s garment is not new either. During the Renaissance, it was the highest fashion to wear a doublet cut to a woman’s body. She paired her doublet with a skirt full of volume.
The big mid century designers, like Balmain, created sophisticated clothing for sophisticated women. They proved the dress wasn’t the only feminine attire in a woman’s wardrobe. It was understood, and we need to review this truth, that it isn’t the clothing that brought gender to the wearer. It was the wearer that brought gender to the clothing.
Nowadays? Nowadays we have mass confusion about clothing. And people’s identity. Individuals try to play paper dolls with their “identity.” Today I’ll be a girl, by wearing this dress. Tomorrow, a boy, because I will put on pants. Except the wearing of a dress doesn’t make you a girl. And pants won’t make you a boy. The old saying that clothes make the man, is hogwash. The man makes the clothing. As Balzac once said, “A man becomes rich; he is born elegant.” The elegant man makes gym shorts look good.
Where’s the integrity we are supposed to be building, and holding on to, if we can’t figure out basic biology? Where is the cooperation with other human beings when we cannot present to them the real deal that is our self? Isn’t that what a standard is for? People with the same standards tend to be with people who are like them. They don’t have to like everyone in the group, but in such a group, even your enemy won’t embarrass you. Like the godfather, you are treated with respect, right up to the moment he kills you.
Why do moderns desire to demote themselves?
Speaking of moderns, there are individuals out there who love to dress up as much as I do. Many of the individuals are my friends and associates. Many of my associates are members of historical groups, like the Art Deco Society of Los Angeles, or they become docents on historical sites, like Princeton Battlefield in New Jersey. It isn’t our love of history alone that makes us active in such groups. It’s the opportunity to dress up, I mean really dress up. As in wear a corset, a floor length gown, and the men wearing hats. Which they doff as soon as a lady walks into the room.
I once asked myself, if I had more dress up opportunities, like fund raisers to attend, would I feel the need to dress up in a costume? Good question. I did attend grand evenings out at fund raisers. As a consultant! The organizers of many fundraisers look for themes, and a part of my business is producing historical themes for events.
But why not dress up as a matter of habit?
Done. Which means I stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. That is okay. Except when I am with my history friends, or monarchy friends. On those occasions, I don’t stick out, I stick in.
Like the Jaguars, are we a vanishing breed?
Certainly, the day of the beautiful roadster is gone.
Aside from the deep desire to have a Duesenberg, my other car of choice is the 1959 Jaguar FX 150. A gorgeous roadster if there ever was one. Especially in red.
The stats on the Jaguar FX 150, 1959 are as follows:
Length - 14.75 feet
Weight - 1,346 kg
Diet - Petrol
Speed - 132 mph
Life span - As long as you are on good terms with your mechanic, it will run.
Native habitat - United Kingdom, but will fit in a
t any location where there are roads.
I confess to loving red convertibles that will go fast. I had one, once before. A 1994 Mustang, a G5, that could cruise, easily, at 120 mph. Not that I ever went that fast, mind you. The wondrous thing about my experience with that automobile is that I never, ever, got a ticket. I guess there’s something about an attractive woman driving such a car, and, well, you know, male cops, and all, never wrote me up. Oh, I have stories about that car.
Give me a roadster, and a smart suit, along with a road that is wide open, and all is right with the world.
Now, about that big kitty cat. He, or she, is invited to go along for the ride.