Interview with Sir Basil Seal

The Belleview Tattle
Monday, March 26, 2007
by Brian Howard

Catching up with Sir Basil Seal

With the advent of Spring and Easter right around the corner, men everywhere, we are sure, are brushing off the white bucks and ensuring that the moths have not gotten to their linen suits or their seersucker. With this in mind, we caught up with Sir Basil Seal, to get this famously well-dressed and menacingly well-groomed mans advice on what we should be wearing this season. Mr. Seal, an Englishman, has lived among us for many years, sharing a home with his wife, the Countess von Knebel-Ezell, out on the Tanglebrook Estate in Hunter's Way. In his home country of England, Mr. Seal himself is a Baronet, the 14th Baronet of Beauchamp-Cholmondeley of St. Jennifer, to be exact, which he informs us is pronounced "Beechum-Chumley". Who would have thought it. He still has the ancestral home in Gloucestershire, which he says he visits regularly. In England, Mr. Seal was educated at The Oratory School, Oxfordshire and at St. Benet's Hall, Oxford. In the United States, Mr. Seal did graduate work at The University of Dallas. We caught up with Mr. Seal at his home, and sat down in his library, which seems to be quite a bit larger than the local public variety, to chat. As befitting his reputation, Mr. Seal was wearing a perfectly cut navy serge suit with white Sea Island cotton double-cuffed shirt and a yellow with sky blue dots seven-fold neck tie, and linen pocket square:

BT: Well, Mr. Seal, I'm...

BS: I'm going to smoke.

BT: Er, yes...What?

BS: I have a cigarette, I have lighted it, I am smoking.

BT: Well, yes, Okay...Well, I'm...

BS: Would you like a cigarette?

BT: What? Smoke? Oh, no, no don't smoke...Uh, but go ahead...

BS: Thank you.

BT: This is quite a room...Kind of almost like a Barnes and Noble...

BS: Yes, except mine actually has books in it...

BT: Well, yes, yes it does...

BS: Are you the young man who rang up to talk about how to dress? I take from your appearance and the absence of a proper crease on any article of your clothing that you are seeking some personal guidance?

BT: Well no, I mean yes, I'm here from the Tattler to interview you about fashion advice...

BS: Did you say fashion?

BT: Uh, yes...

BS: You obviously have me confused with someone else. I know nothing about fashion.

BT: Er, yes, but...I mean, I wanted to talk about what to wear, and that sort of thing, you know...

BS: That sort of thing? You mean you want me to dispense some sage advice on how the American male should dress this season? Something along the lines of fabric choices, cut, drape, shoes, hose...That sort of thing?

BT: Yes, yes, that's it exactly...I'd like to ask...

BS: Why?

BT: Ask you...What?...Why?...I don't...

BS: Why would you want me to dispense such advice to your readers when only four of them will understand the half of it and two of those will ignore it anyway.

BT: Well, Mr. Seal, I'm sure there are many men interested in what you...

BS: Will you take tea?

BT: What? Tea? Iced tea, now? I...

BS: My dear boy, I am having tea, you notice the tray here between us? It, of course is not iced by any means...I will pour you a cup, you look as if you could use it...A little demerara, a little cream...There you go, relax, take your time...Better? You were saying?

BT: Damn!

BS: I beg your pardon?

BT: I mean dang, sorry, it's hot...

BS: You amaze me...

BT: Well, dang...I was saying, that I'm sure our readers would love to hear what you have to say...I mean some men are still interested in how to dress in the proper way...

BS: Yes, yes, I'm sure that's why the nearest tailor is in London...

BT: London?

BS: Never mind...Let me give you the best possible advice for a gentleman who is serious about dressing properly and well in America...And to then be appreciated as a well dressed gentleman...

BT: Okay...What is it?

BS: Move.

BT: Move? You mean move your body? Shake a leg? Move?

BS: Move. Away.

BT: Meaning what exactly? Leave and move?

BS: Both. To a land without baseball caps, t-shirts or trousers worn about the knees. Move to a land without fashion designers or logos or gym shoes as the primary mode of footwear. Move to a land where young men are not given "Mr. T Starter Kits" on their birthday. Move to a land where "comfort" is not used as an excuse to be lazy and slovenly, where "to express oneself" is not used as an excuse to abandon self respect and respect for others. Move from a land where people tout "individualism" but are the biggest sheep on the planet, following every fad or whim that someone else tells them is "the thing". Where proper modes of male dress are not dictated by illiterate half-wits working for women's magazines. The rot is too deep my friend...The only thing left for it, is to move. Find a good tailor, it won't be in this country, outside of New York City anyway, and move close by.

BT: Uh...Well...

BS: More tea?

BT: No, no thanks, I think I've got it now, I'll be running along...

BS: You're not staying to dinner? You are quite welcome...

BT: No, no thanks, gotta go...Thanks for your time Mr. Seal...Very interesting...

BS: I am always happy to help out in any way I can...Let me show you out...