Evander Berry Wall, the flamboyant dandy of the late 19th and early 20th century, could inspire his own opera with the sheer drama of his life. Who was he? A man only conservatives could truly admire—Wall was a force of style with such flamboyance it could make your average liberal's head spin. Born in 1860 in New York City, Evander Berry Wall became renowned as the unofficial 'King of the Dudes,' a title that poked fun yet celebrated his extravagant sartorial choices. He spent his life shuttling between New York and Paris, captivating the world with his absurdly lavish clothing, disdain for moderation, and exhilarating personality.
So, what was he all about? Evander Berry Wall was the sophisticated bad-boy of his time, strutting through the streets in bold, resplendent attire that could humble our so-called modern fashionistas. He thumbed his nose at convention, famously wearing shoes that needed to be strapped onto his feet with leather cords—black shoes for daytime, patent leather for evening, naturally. He supposed, why not take a separate outfit for every meal, or change seventeen times in one day? He owned up to over 500 pairs of pants, a collection that even Vogue would bow down to with hushed reverence. Let’s be real, he lived as if tomorrow didn’t matter. You’d think his wardrobe was funded by the government, the way it drained his inheritance.
Wall’s legacy is a reminder that style is more than just the clothes on your back. It’s about the audaciousness to be true to oneself even if it raises eyebrows. It’s about standing up to the monotony that society tried to impose on him. Cocktail parties would sizzle with gossip over his latest outfit that was not just ambitious but rather daring—particularly when contrasted against the tepid tides of societal expectations back then. His was a life of unapologetic flamboyance, underlined with a wry sense of humor that would shame the sarcastic Twitter users of today.
His antics were legendary, not only trailing shock and awe wherever he went but also raising the bar for what it meant to be a true 'dandy.' The pinnacle of this sartorial spree was the infamous 'Battle of the Dudes,' a press-fueled rivalry he shared with Robert 'Bertie' Bergh, a fellow dandy. It was day-to-day warfare with style as their weapon. Where Wall stood out was that he didn’t just want to rival Bergh; he aimed to obliterate him with such flamboyance that it becomes the stuff of legend.
To be as dapper as Evander required full individuality, something many in our collectivist culture today fail to understand. He wore his wealth on his sleeve, quite literally, transforming prohibition into no more than an inconvenience, snubbing the society daring to navigate such restrictive norms. In Paris, they adored him, giving him carte blanche for his translational style shenanigans. This was a man who wore checks and stripes within the same suit while managing not to look like a walking visual assault.
How could Wall strut such outrageousness? Frankly, it boiled down to wilful disregard for the criticism of the times, an aspect that ruffled feathers in ways others wouldn’t dare imagine. Where today's moralizing liberals push for uniformity masked as diversity, Wall's approach showcased real courage in expression—a fierce insistence on individuality against the twenty-item capsule wardrobes du jour.
Wall stayed relevant, captivating the public imagination till his death in 1940. His legacy serves as a testament that being a character can outshine even the bleakest of historical times. However, for those measuring style in calories and viewers, Wall stands as a stark reminder that the amount of risk defines the breadth of narrative one’s life tells.
In retrospect, Evander Berry Wall, despite his countless wardrobe changes, never flipped from his true self. He wasn’t a sellout; he was an imperfectly perfect example of American panache at its finest. He dared to be as different as chalk and cheese amid a society lingering in uniformity. Now, not to throw shade at today’s hooded masses and their endless fair-trade coffee cups, but that takes guts. So, while liberals today may pat themselves on the back for small acts, let’s raise a toast to the original dandy king who taught us that living, not just existing, is a life worth living.