Monday, September 28, 2009

The NZ Series #1 - New Zealand Railways Magazine June 1, 1930




Yes, I have made the occasional sneery comment on the beret culture in New Zealand (or better, the absence of such culture), but the more people I speak to (and feedback I receive on this blog and articles in the media), the clearer it becomes that there has definitely been some tradition of berets here.
What's more, there has even been a major manufacturer of berets, right here in Wellington (but that's for a future post...).
Digging into NZ Beret History, I found some beautiful old photographs; immigrants mainly from the Mediterranean countries in the first half of the last century, Italian fishermen and whalers, in a time that it was still seen as acceptable to hunt whales (recently I heard an interview with a retired whaler who turned ecologist on National Radio - things do change).
While digging I found a number of -short- articles relating to the beret in the New Zealand Railways Magazine, dating back to the 1930's:

THE NEW ZEALAND RAILWAYS MAGAZINE, VOLUME 4, ISSUE 11 (JUNE 1, 1930)

"WEE MODERNS"

It is vain to squawk at theSQUAWKIES, air our objections to aeroplanes, or ostracise OXFORDS.

The world has always been modern; Jacob was considered slightly futuristic and a bit over the fence when he wore his coat-of-many-colours, and Henry the Eighth was a little before his time. Personally, it is my secret sorrow that I have never worn a beret. Of course you know what a beret is; it is a sort of bedspread for a deadhead, a counterpane to counter brain —a veritable vacuum-screener; but still, envious reader, who is there, here present, who would not amputate his chin-ware, have his face sifted, and throw in his old age pension, to wear a beret? There are few of we moderns who would not be wee moderns.

Make me a child again,
Just for to-night,
Give me a brain again,
Light as a kite,
Singe off my whiskers,
And give me some hair,
Fill up my skull,
With a pint of hot air.
Give me a motor-bike,
Make me a sheik,
Earning a quid and
A quarter a week,
Give me a pillion,
Give me a “Jane,”
Something that's modern,
And not very sane,
Bag me some Oxfords,
An over-size pair,
Give me—oh give me,
A BERET TO WEAR.

“Wore a beret.”

“Wore a beret.”

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