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“Once, sissies were mistaken for gentlemen; alas, now gentlemen are mistaken for sissies.”--W

“Authenticity is the most disingenuous form of narcissism, wearing a cape is the most honest form of narcissism, and wearing a boutonniere is the most fragrant form of narcissism.”--W

“It is unseemly for young men to utter maxims.”--Aristotle

“Oops.”--W

My given name is Victor Allen Crawford III, but I'm best known by my nom du fromage Lord Breaulove Swells Whimsy. I'm the author and designer of The Affected Provincial's Companion, Volume One, a collection of humorous essays, lyrical anecdotes, silly poetry, and satirical diagrams written during the twelve years I spent living in a rickety, plant-filled army barracks out in the Pine Barrens of rural Southern New Jersey. All the right people loved it, and all the right people hated it. London's Financial Times listed it as one of the best books of 2006. The book has amassed a small but robust following, which is to say that by publishing standards it is an unmitigated commercial failure. Nevertheless, I remain pleased with its frothy language, tight editing, satirical charts, audacious overstatement, and wry humor. Most of all, I'm proud of the flag it holds high, upon which the words THESE THINGS MATTER are boldly emblazoned. Perhaps the most noteworthy development related to the book is that Mr. Depp's production company, Infinitum Nihil, has bought the film rights to the Companion, a director and screenwriter have been tapped for the project, and a script is currently in the works.

I am by my own admission a deeply committed dilettante, a failed dandy, an overdressed naturalist, an affected provincial, and a middle-aged weirdo. I'm as gloriously indefensible as I am resolutely unemployable. I'm an enthusiast, not an expert. I like art, but I love aesthetics. I prefer manners and style, not etiquette and fashion. I enjoy refined vulgarity, not vulgar refinement. I favor thoughtful lightness over frivolity. I dabble in so-called rarefied pursuits for the sake of curiosity and pleasure, not for the sake of cheap snobbery.

I believe that life is short--an occasion, so one may as well dress for it. I believe that it's more important to charm than to impress. I believe Beau Brummell wasn't fit to shine the shoes of William Bartram. I believe that one can be both inauthentic and sincere. I believe that more people should assume a peculiar or presumptuous name for three reasons: 1) it adds interest and latitude to one's life, 2) it confers both preposterousness and dignity, and 3) it gives one something to both live up to and live down. I believe in the open, generous kind of narcissism that invites others to play--not the churlish, disingenuous kind of narcissism that takes itself too seriously to proclaim itself. I believe that etiquette is dead manners, and fashion is unearned style. I believe that a man shouldn't look as though his wife dresses him. I believe that mere deference to convention is not taste. I believe that being "dark," "radical," or "edgy" has become a lame, boring cop-out. I believe that being pointlessly loud and aggressive in a pointlessly loud and aggressive world is neither daring nor clever. I believe that cultivating lots of small ideas is more humane and sensible than groveling at the feet of a few big ideas. I believe good taste is nimble and eclectic. I believe there's nothing sophisticated about being an aesthetic bigot (not that athletic bigots are much better, mind you). I believe that if we are fortunate enough to encounter the beautiful, then we should share that beauty with others. And I believe that anything worthwhile is also groovy: if there's no drinking, dancing, or shameless flirting involved, you can keep your revolution.

I'm not trying to live in some idealized past: I'm interested in texture and form, not nostalgia. Anything that I find lively or nourishing will find itself in this journal. It's the qualities of the thing that are important to me, not the provenance: I'm an aesthete, not a connoisseur. The emblems I tack to the walls tend towards the small, improvised, humane, modest, open, quiet, light, poised, generous, delicate, introspective, humorous, elegant, and organic. I generally occupy myself with what a tipsy, pompous twit once called "aesthetic ecologies" (seemed clever at the time). I try to cultivate these little worlds wherever I can, be it this journal, a terrarium, my home, or my person.

I like to imagine that I'm continuing a tradition established by the likes of Lord Buckley. (Anyone who thinks I employ "lord" with a straight-faced arrogance must also wonder where all the little people go when the television is turned off.) There have been Whimsies before me, and I've seen other Whimsies here and there, and hopefully there will be more Whimsies after me. I say bully for them all--it's a fine thing to be. Being a Whimsy should be an occupation that one can list on a tax form. It's like being a time lord, but with a better haircut.

I haven't had a day job in almost a decade, and Google has all but burned my bridges to the civilian world (how I can ever repay them for ensuring that I will never again have to work in an office, I can't say--perhaps a fruit basket). I manage to support myself by writing nonsense and making nonsensical images. I've had some minor success as a designer and illustrator over the years: One of my typefaces was exhibited in The Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, and my wife and I made the 400 illustrations used for the species identification keys inside The American Museum of Natural History's Milstein Hall of Ocean Life, where they are on permanent display for the next thirty-odd years. I've just redesigned the new identity for Philadelphia's Rosenbach Museum and Library, home of the original manuscript of James Joyce's Ulysses (it is also the former home of Napoleon's penis, but that is another story).

I'm a miniaturist at heart, given to small impeccables. Like Mr. Beerbohm, I feel I possess a few casually-endowed gifts, none of which lend themselves to widespread appeal or towering stature. I try to curate these little trifles of mine wisely, polishing and displaying them in ways for which they are well-suited. This has allowed me to enjoy a minour reputation (minor but showy) and a modest but unfettered life, for which I am very grateful. For those of you who have bought my books or presented me with projects and assignments, I offer you my sincerest gratitude.

This journal is a kind of notebook, into which I make entries in the hopes of amassing enough raw material for a new heartbreaking project--upon which I might obsess and squander four or five years of my life, with the ultimate aim of producing something of great personal value with which to offer an indifferent public. It's heaven, I tell you.

In any case, I hope the nonsense found in my journal might lead you to your own life-enriching explorations, as others have so generously done for me in theirs. Welcome!

Common topics in this journal include:

Aesthetics
Style & Clothes
Curiosities
Ill-considered notions
Natural History
Organicism
The Pine Barrens
Plants & Gardening
Whimsy Adventures
and Domestic Bird Videos.

Things of interest at LordWhimsy.com:

The Whimsy FAQs page
The Whimsy Video Arcade
The Whimsy Tie Knot, Moustache Care and Pocket Square Fold Page
More on The Affected Provincial's Companion

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I apologize in advance to those of you who take the time to post comments, email me etc. only not to get a response from yours truly. Try as I might, there simply isn't enough hours in the day. I can only hope that it is not taken personally.

FRIENDING POLICY: Those who wish to 'friend' this journal need not ask to do so. Welcome.

PLEASE READ JOURNAL POLICY BEFORE POSTING COMMENTS: Unfortunately, we (or at least I) live in a world in which such caveats are necessary, so please excuse the nannyish bluster below...

This journal is a safe haven for civility; and as such, it's maintained first and foremost for those who value such things. Posting here is a privilege, not a right: Anyone who feels this journal is fit for public abuse simply because it is open to public view should look elsewhere. A baseline standard of mature, civilized behavior is expected; please spare me the burden of holding you to it myself.

I ask that anonymous posters identify themselves; any unsigned anonymous posts will not be posted. Crude, rude or abusive posts that undermine the journal's tone or serve no purpose other than to insult or annoy will be deleted. You are on your honor in my virtual parlor. Please challenge, disagree, or debate if you like--but I humbly ask that everyone mind their manners. Or I won't mind mine.

Don't like my conditions? Well, I probably wouldn't like your tie.

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