Sartorial music
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I've heard suggested that good music and a good drink help increase the pleasure of putting on evening dress(white and black tie). Is there any music that people like to listen to when dressing in the morning or evening? I haven't yet, but I have wondered if music would help "set the mood." Does it or does it distract the the pleasure of dressing well?
Mozart's Trumpet Concerto in D Major sets a nice tone and pace for the day or the evening.
NJS
NJS
I'm conscious that it's not music but I always get dressed in the morning with Radio 4's Today program on the radio. As for dressing in the evening picking the right record to get dressed to used to be as important as picking the right clothes. Since the happy arrival of my children dressing in the evening is always done in such a rush that there's no time to worry about music. One day, however, when I have a dressing room, a good stereo will be a vital part of the whole experience.
I have never thought of it as sartorial music or music to dress to, but I often listen to Schubert's String Quintet in C Major D. 956, when dressing or shaving.
It is, obviously, great music. But, also, as desperate as elegant.
It is, obviously, great music. But, also, as desperate as elegant.
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"Zoot Suit" was the first single of the British rock and roll band The Who, when they were known as The High Numbers. Does that count as sartorial music?
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Song of the Shirt by Thomas Hood
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."
"Work! work! work!
While the cock is crowing aloof!
And work work work,
Till the stars shine through the roof!
It's Oh! to be a slave
Along with the barbarous Turk,
Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work!
"Work work work
Till the brain begins to swim;
Work work work
Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!
"Oh, Men, with Sisters dear!
Oh, Men, with Mothers and Wives!
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
Stitch stitch stitch,
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
Sewing at once with a double thread,
A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
But why do I talk of Death?
That Phantom of grisly bone,
I hardly fear its terrible shape,
It seems so like my own
It seems so like my own,
Because of the fasts I keep;
Oh, God! that bread should be so dear,
And flesh and blood so cheap!
"Work work work!
My Labour never flags;
And what are its wages? A bed of straw,
A crust of bread and rags.
That shatter'd roof and this naked floor
A table a broken chair
And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!
"Work work work!
From weary chime to chime,
Work work work!
As prisoners work for crime!
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb'd,
As well as the weary hand.
"Work work work,
In the dull December light,
And work work work,
When the weather is warm and bright
While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling
As if to show me their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.
Oh! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal!
Oh! but for one short hour!
A respite however brief!
No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,
But only time for Grief!
A little weeping would ease my heart,
But in their briny bed
My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread!"
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,
Would that its tone could reach the Rich!
She sang this "Song of the Shirt!"
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."
"Work! work! work!
While the cock is crowing aloof!
And work work work,
Till the stars shine through the roof!
It's Oh! to be a slave
Along with the barbarous Turk,
Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work!
"Work work work
Till the brain begins to swim;
Work work work
Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!
"Oh, Men, with Sisters dear!
Oh, Men, with Mothers and Wives!
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
Stitch stitch stitch,
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
Sewing at once with a double thread,
A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
But why do I talk of Death?
That Phantom of grisly bone,
I hardly fear its terrible shape,
It seems so like my own
It seems so like my own,
Because of the fasts I keep;
Oh, God! that bread should be so dear,
And flesh and blood so cheap!
"Work work work!
My Labour never flags;
And what are its wages? A bed of straw,
A crust of bread and rags.
That shatter'd roof and this naked floor
A table a broken chair
And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!
"Work work work!
From weary chime to chime,
Work work work!
As prisoners work for crime!
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb'd,
As well as the weary hand.
"Work work work,
In the dull December light,
And work work work,
When the weather is warm and bright
While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling
As if to show me their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.
Oh! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal!
Oh! but for one short hour!
A respite however brief!
No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,
But only time for Grief!
A little weeping would ease my heart,
But in their briny bed
My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread!"
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,
Would that its tone could reach the Rich!
She sang this "Song of the Shirt!"
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- Joined: Fri Sep 07, 2007 7:02 pm
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Let's liven it up with a modern shirt song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q75gREOjyFI.
I need a little electricity in the morning and there is nothing better than a solid dose of the Rolling Stones.
(Mick Jagger was an SR customer at one point so there is a logic to it all, right?)
I like to dress and groom to music that is strong on energy and light on reflection. I don't want to think. Dressing should be instinctive and fun.
Singing is the other fundamental for good dressing, preferably opera, preferably Italian. If you have loud neighbors or would simply like to have those you are stuck with move out, try belting out an ear splitting Nessun Dorma when you rise and shave.
Cheers
Michael Alden
(Mick Jagger was an SR customer at one point so there is a logic to it all, right?)
I like to dress and groom to music that is strong on energy and light on reflection. I don't want to think. Dressing should be instinctive and fun.
Singing is the other fundamental for good dressing, preferably opera, preferably Italian. If you have loud neighbors or would simply like to have those you are stuck with move out, try belting out an ear splitting Nessun Dorma when you rise and shave.
Cheers
Michael Alden
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- Posts: 337
- Joined: Fri Sep 07, 2007 7:02 pm
- Contact:
I would never have guessed that you are a Rolling Stones man. My "singing" is blacklisted under torture by the United Nations so I tend to dress to Italian opera and classical music, especially piano and cello concertos.alden wrote:I need a little electricity in the morning and there is nothing better than a solid dose of the Rolling Stones.
(Mick Jagger was an SR customer at one point so there is a logic to it all, right?)
I like to dress and groom to music that is strong on energy and light on reflection. I don't want to think. Dressing should be instinctive and fun.
Singing is the other fundamental for good dressing, preferably opera, preferably Italian. If you have loud neighbors or would simply like to have those you are stuck with move out, try belting out an ear splitting Nessun Dorma when you rise and shave.
Cheers
Michael Alden
Rolling Stones ? Ah yes, the knighted Old (Retired) Rocker - Sir Michael-I'm-Just-Joking-Really-See-My Lips-Jagger. The oldest rocker in the whole wide world lives in the Templo do Rock here in the Sleepy Hollow - Sergei - he's 75 - and I am sure that I heard him singing, the other day:
I'm Glad That I'm Not Young Anymore But he added a verse of his own lyrics about Old Rockers becoming so senile that they accept knighthoods from the systems that they used to disdain - mind you, the additional verse was in Portuguese - and rather dinned out by the guitar, so it's anyone's guess. After he had gone by I noticed my reflection in a car window - and mt cravat had gone askew... Fortunately, it was time to change back into my chuddies for the beach.
NJS
I'm Glad That I'm Not Young Anymore But he added a verse of his own lyrics about Old Rockers becoming so senile that they accept knighthoods from the systems that they used to disdain - mind you, the additional verse was in Portuguese - and rather dinned out by the guitar, so it's anyone's guess. After he had gone by I noticed my reflection in a car window - and mt cravat had gone askew... Fortunately, it was time to change back into my chuddies for the beach.
NJS
I can understand the Rolling Stones, altough I wouldn't take so much electricity in the morning...
Nessun Dorma is a good choice.
It's even more fun thinking of the outfits in which it is sang...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg-59NoES2o
Do you think prince Calaf was a SR customer?
Nessun Dorma is a good choice.
It's even more fun thinking of the outfits in which it is sang...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg-59NoES2o
Do you think prince Calaf was a SR customer?
Oh for the tranquility of music. My morning toilet is performed to the accompaniment of the wails of a hungry baby.
Gosh, yes ,the most disturbing sound of all.JRLT wrote:Oh for the tranquility of music. My morning toilet is performed to the accompaniment of the wails of a hungry baby.
NJS
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For the sake of waking a sleeping thread:
I love to dress in and create bespoke suits to Maria Callas. If you have not let her magical voice pleasure your ears then I suggest you begin with her version of "Oh Mio Babino Caro"
I love to dress in and create bespoke suits to Maria Callas. If you have not let her magical voice pleasure your ears then I suggest you begin with her version of "Oh Mio Babino Caro"
For cutting myself shaving..Donizetti's 9 high c's from La fille du régiment
For electric high energy Hey boy, Hey Girl, the Chemical Bros.
Get the Party Started, Pink
Raw early Beatles, or The Who
Rossini , The Barber Of Seville Overture
For relaxed evening dressing Mascagni - Cavalleria Rusticana - Intermezzo
For everything else, there's mastercard!
For electric high energy Hey boy, Hey Girl, the Chemical Bros.
Get the Party Started, Pink
Raw early Beatles, or The Who
Rossini , The Barber Of Seville Overture
For relaxed evening dressing Mascagni - Cavalleria Rusticana - Intermezzo
For everything else, there's mastercard!
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