"DANDY ENERGY, COSTUME OR CHARACTER?" THE DANDY ACCORDING TO...

AUGUST 20, 2025

A dandy—to me—is someone who dresses with rebellious elegance. They dress not just for the sake of fashion, but also to make a statement. A man or woman who goes against the grain—not loudly, but sharply and stylishly. They express their rebellion through refinement, showcasing their uniqueness akin to a well-fitted suit. Picture a mechanic, not in greasy overalls, but in a perfectly cut denim jumpsuit. Imagine a schoolteacher, dressed in a crisp three-piece suit, delivering lessons to a class of children. That’s dandyism—rebellion in silk gloves. Dandyism, as a philosophy, is about elevating the self—putting extreme care into one’s appearance, but not out of vanity. It’s an art form.

A posture. A stance. This stance serves as a means of resisting conformity and asserting one’s individuality. Historical sources tell us that dandyism emerged as a form of resistance during the French Revolution around 1790. A true dandy doesn’t take himself too seriously—that’s what separates dandyism from snobbery. It’s always been a paradox: the dandy aims to please but often pleases by offending. The concept of elegance served as a provocation. This style exudes charm and defiance. From my perspective, she embodies rebellious chic. A rebel, yes—but one with polish and grace. Sharply dressed. Always deliberate. Think Peaky Blinders—power stitched into every seam.

A perfect example of a political dandy? Pim Fortuyn was a Dutch politician known for his flamboyant style and controversial statements. His bold fashion choices and unapologetic attitude challenged societal norms and expectations, making him a true embodiment of rebel chic. He was openly gay, distinctively dressed, and unwavering in his political vision. Now — Fortuyn may not be everyone’s cup of tea (he’s certainly not mine), but that’s beside the point. What matters here is how style, in his case, became a weapon, a brand, a disruption. Like it or not, he understood the power of tailoring identity — and that makes him a political dandy worth studying, if not celebrating. He named his home Palazzo di Pietro, carried himself like a Roman senator, and spoke like a man ahead of his time. Fortuyn, clad in a tailored suit, was a revolutionary. He was born in 1948 and tragically assassinated on May 6, 2002. Fortuyn’s death was, in part, because his dandy-like views clashed with the rigid expectations of political discourse. His bold ideas didn’t fit the mold—and that was precisely the point. A professor. A provocateur. He was a well-dressed outsider who firmly believed in the principles of freedom of thought and expression. That was precisely why he was assassinated. So yes—the dandy, as I see it, is the well-dressed rebel.  Like the punk or the rock ‘n’ roller—both fight the system, but where one wears leather and studs, the other chooses silk and pocket squares. Both stand firmly against the standard—refusing to blend in, determined to express who they truly are.