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| King Kalakaua - Early Hawaiian "Dude" |
The word "dude" has long been associated with surf culture - and
Hawaii is the home of surf culture. It should not be surprising then,
that there have been "dudes" in Hawaii for nearly as long as there
have been "dudes."
In January of 1883, the word "Dude" debuted - and no corner
of the globe was safe from Dudedom. By mid-1883, there were no fewer than
two "Dudes" in Hawaii:
Honolulu progresses
with the rest of the civilized world and now possesses two real live dudes who
disport themselves languidly through our streets. The following conversation, overheard on
Saturday evening, will at once show the high intellectual faculties of this new
genus of the human race:
First dude, with an
embarrassed smile – “Say, Augustus, I really believe I’ve broken a corset
lacing. Have you an extra one with you?”
Second dude, with an
expression of horror – “Really! Why, Algernon, where could you fix it if you
had one? The gyurls are all looking at us, you know.”
The Pacific Commercial Advertiser (Honolulu), August 11, 1883, page 5.
But as in
most things, all good things must come to an end:
The dudes have
departed and once more life in Honolulu is hollow. . . .
When last seen the
dude was sheltering his lovely complexion with a bright red parasol, his hat
being off to allow the balmy breeze to cool his burning brain. . . .
Honolulu has lost its
dude but still retains its dandy, who, rejoicing at the departure of his
opponent, appeared on Tuesday afternoon in town and on the wharf most
aesthetically attired in a green silk coat, dark silk skin tight
unmentionables, and a stove pipe hat. If
to gain notoriety is the man’s object he certainly succeeds in his endeavors.
The Pacific Commercial Advertiser (Honolulu), August 11, 1883, page 5.
King
Kalakaua even saw the dude off when it departed:
Departure
of the Mariposa.
The largest crowd
that has ever witnessed the departure or arrival of a steamer at Honolulu,
except when His Majesty arrived from his tour round the world, assembled
Tuesday at the Oceanic Steamship Co.’s wharf at the time the Mariposa sailed. .
. . Among those present were his Majesty
the King . . . [and] H. R. H. Princess Likelike . . . .
The band has gone,
the dude has gone and many kind and dear friends have gone and here endeth the
first trip of the Mariposa.
The Pacific Commercial Advertiser (Honolulu), August 11, 1883, page 3.
Although those two dudes may have been the first reported sightings of "Dudes" in the Kingdom of Hawaii, they had been on the look-out for them for some months. In early June, one local newspaper sent a reporter out to survey local “experts” to learn what to look out for:
The Dude.
There has been a
great deal written and printed of late concerning the “dude.” This animal is
very different from the well-known “dodo,” and needs a fuller description than
has yet been given to the readers of these islands, as there is some danger of
confounding him with the better known animal above mentioned.
In order to add to a
somewhat meager fund of information on the important subject assigned him, the
writer interviewed several authoritative gentlemen of the city, with the
following results:
Mr. Henry Farquhr
Hebbard said: “The dude is an American caricature of the English swell. The New
York dude is the best variety of the American species, the San Francisco
variety is the worst; for the latter nearly always ingrafts a few hoodlum
shoots on the imported stock. When a
Honolulu boy goes to Frisco and comes back a dude, there is probably no help
for him. He ought to be drowned, at
least eleven miles from shore.”
This was
comprehensive but not specific. Mr. G.
Carson Kenyon said: “The dude is an exotic in these islands. He does not encourage street improvement,
except by wearing out the sidewalks; but he does help to hold up the lamp
posts, and is therefore not to be discouraged.
In my capacity as editor of the Bulletin I have been compelled to prod
him with my powerful pen; but as an instructor in the educational department of
my friend Mr. Gibson’s government, I am compelled to desire to get a chance to
educate him.”
This was even less
specific. The president of the Society
for the Total Supression of Puns said: “Why, a dude’s a dude. You can’t catch me on any snap like that.”
This was
discouraging. Knowing the vast fund of
knowledge possessed by the late Cactus McCrakem, the writer called upon that
lamented writer’s relict and inquired if there were anything in his posthumous
papers on the momentous topic of the dude.
The writer was kindly received.
The old lady rummaged through a voluminous pile of papers and at last
ond a yellow tinted and musk scented sheet of note paper. It was written in the well-known hand of the
dear departed Mrs. Negus, and was headed “My Boy Cactus – A Valentine.” It was
cast in the form of a parody, as follows:
What is that, mother?
The dude, my boy;
A thing of beauty, a
thing of joy.
List, oh list, to his
musical croak
And note the age of his
latest joke.
What is that, mother?
The dude, my child.
His eyes are liquid,
his speech is mild.
Neat and natty and
new is he
And his trousers are wonderful
to see.
What is that, mother?
The dude, my dear.
There never was any
one half so queer,
His arms are lithe
and his hands are slim
And very genteel the
knees of him.
What is that, mother?
The dude, my sweet.
They fitted him out
on some Frisco street.
Go thou, my son, go
likewise, do,
And you shall be
called a dudu, too.
The Saturday Press (Honolulu), June 2, 1883, page 1.
Although the
people were generally critical of “Dudes,” King Kalakaua was more tolerant– in 1888,
the King was a dude himself:
King Kalakaua has the
reputation of being a “dude.” A prominent London tailor makes all his clothes.
The Abbeville Press and Banner (Abbeville, SC), August 29, 1888, page
2.
