March, 2024
BY BRETT F. BRAELY-PALKO
The Well-Dressed Escape Plan
In a sense, it’s comforting to know that history, as they say, has a way of repeating itself. As we celebrate the centennial of the Boulevardier cocktail, now may be the time to look back at the drink’s namesake and see that these men-about-town were, perhaps, not so dissimilar to today’s Parisian Bobos—bourgeois-bohemians—or Brooklyn’s hipsters.
Looking at a boulevardier on the street, one wouldn’t have ever guessed that France had lost nearly 1.3 million lives during the Great War or that the economy was reeling from financial crises. Instead, you’d see a well-dressed man who was, in the case of Robert de Montesquiou, composing a poem or perhaps on his way to a salon. Decadence, you see, was the name of the game.
To first understand these similarities, we must look back a century ago to Europe. The 1920s were an especially devastating time for the European psyche. The First World War had ended in 1918, leaving a continent reeling politically, economically, and spiritually. Having never faced that level of devastation on a global scale, Europeans began to rebuild a world they hoped would have made the war worth all the suffering.
But, either in spite of or because of this pathos-laden time, a new species of men emerged in the rubble of war as well: the boulevardier. The name, borne from the pejorative idea that these men were simple peacocks looking to show off as they strolled down the boulevards of Paris, soon grew to encompass an entire lifestyle that seemed wholly unaffected by the psychological and economic damage facing most of the global West during this time.
Of course, the boulevardier set knew what was going on around them. But instead of building a life in response to the chaos, they chose to dissociate from it entirely.
The reason for this seems, in a way, twofold. On the one hand, you had an entire generation of intellectuals who understood that death and destruction were so easy to come by and so swift to act, that it made sense to live life to its fullest. Who could be stuck in a boring office job when there was a park to stroll through just outside the bureau’s window? And who would squirrel away their savings when an economic crash—or postwar inflation—could so easily wipe it away? Instead, it seems, the boulevardier set and their cohorts thought only of the moment and sought to eke every last bit of pleasure out of the twenty-four hours we are given.
Of course, the boulevardier set knew what was going on around them. But instead of building a life in response to the chaos, they chose to dissociate from it entirely.
The manicured moustaches, the fur-trimmed coats, and the endless cigarette butts undoubtedly smashed into plates after multi-course meals were, in a way, the psychological armor needed to get through these times. Dissociating from the chaos allowed boulevardiers to build a life for themselves and not merely react to the challenges their fellow countrymen faced. The entrance fee to this lifestyle was a bit of wit, some literary talent, and maybe a few francs to get you started—until you could begin freeloading on your richer and famous friends.
And if you’re thinking this all sounds a bit familiar—well, you’re not alone. The genus Boulevardier of the 1920s seems to have split into two contemporary subspecies: Bobos and hipsters. It is no wonder, then, that much of the criticism facing the boulevardiers of the past still exists today, even if the dress and mannerisms of this new set of dissociating literates may look a bit different.
Consider the global landscape of today. Are we that different from where we were a century ago? Another world war looms in the background of news cycles, a pandemic has hit our economy and psyche, and economic and social inequality still affects millions. And still, there is a subset of men—and women!—who are more focused on their single-source espresso beans or whether their blue checkmark on social media has been approved. In these cases, we see another form of dissociating from the realities of our world through lifestyle choices that seem almost incongruous to the rest of the world.
The most prominent ways in which the boulevardiers, Bobos, and hipsters have been able to distance themselves from societal chaos is through almost total control of the space and style that surrounds them. For the boulevardiers of the past, this meant turning the cafés that dotted Paris’s streets into a sort of city-wide lyceum to discuss art, social issues, and literature. On the other hand, Bobos and hipsters gravitate toward retail spaces that align with their own beliefs. Think of how a coffee shop today is described as a “hipster joint”—or how Brooklyn has been almost terraformed into a hipster-exclusive suburb over the past two decades.
In either case, insulation from reality is built upon a shared hallucination of a lifestyle. In a sense, one could bastardize the old adage: “Build an echo chamber, and they will come.”
The entrance fee to this lifestyle was a bit of wit, some literary talent, and maybe a few francs to get you started.
Privilege, undoubtedly, plays a large role in the criticism of our latter-day boulevardiers. How else can one remain so unaffected by today’s chaotic political and social climate without it? Having the means to afford the social signifiers of one’s class, interests, and status is, in itself, a luxury. Privilege means being able to build a life predicated on leisure and pleasure, with your main concern being whether the oysters are fresh enough to order a dozen. Or, if you’re a Bobo, privilege might just be that you can afford to live in Paris with a job title as vague as “creative director” on your CV.
In any case, it’s hard not to see boulevardiers, hipsters, and Bobos as a response to society rather than a complete detachment from it. As the saying goes, with enough pressure, a lump of coal can turn into a diamond; and what we see here is, time and again, a generation of young men and women under so much psychological pressure that they come out as shiny, frivolous objects, so perfectly suited for luxury.
So while the trappings may have changed over a century, one thing remains the same: it is a fundamental human drive to seek pleasure in a time of chaos. But only a few have ever been able to afford all of life’s indulgences in times like these.