The Pocket-Handerkerchief

E

mbarking on his perilous journey to the Lonely Mountain with thirteen dwarves and a wizard with a big beard called Gandalf the Grey, Bilbo Baggins was struck by the terrible realisation that he had left his “pocket-handkerchief behind”. Although I have never undertaken such a quest myself, I can entirely empathise with dear Bilbo's predicament. On occasions I too have committed this act of gross absent-mindedness, leaving me with the unpleasant sensation of exposure and, for want of a better word, nakedness throughout the day.

In truth I have 'sexed up' my feelings of exposure and nakedness somewhat, but I do, nevertheless, regard a pocket-handkerchief as an essential part of day-to-day regalia* which has unfortunately been lost. It was an essential item for my grandparents’ generation, with multiple functions, but is now mocked and ridiculed marking its owner as – dare I say it – 'behind the times' and lacking in personal hygiene. Admittedly, my introduction to the pocket-handkerchief was my grandfather blowing his nose in a not particularly edifying manner into an unattractive brown raggedy garment, so I suppose that this widely held perception is not wholly unjustifiable. However, don't let my grandfather put you off. A pocket-handkerchief confers multiple benefits upon its user and environs.

For a start pocket-handkerchiefs are far more aesthetic than a crumpled up piece of bog roll or Kleenex tissue, coming in a variety of attractive colours, patterns and sizes. Whilst the act of blowing one's nose is not a pleasant spectacle to behold, a colourful pocket-handkerchief can deflect attention away from the spectacle itself onto the pocket-handkerchief provoking the possible response “what a spiffy pocket-handkerchief: I fancy that”. Not only is the pocket-handkerchief pleasing to the eye, but, depending on its style, accords the owner with two differing positive images. A particularly colourful pocket-handkerchief some might say marks the owner as a person of refinement with slightly raffish tendencies and devilment; possibly a bottom pincher. Conversely, others could argue that a plain sober pocket-handkerchief gives its owner an image of earthy solidity, a no-nonsense fellow, someone whom you want alongside you in the trenches.

  

On a practical level the pocket-handkerchief beats the Kleenex/toilet tissue hands down. In the winter it tackles the common cold far more effectively giving its owner around fifty 'trumpets' (a more pleasant term than 'blows') compared to a miserly one or two with the Kleenex/toilet tissue. In the summer it mops up many sweaty brows and, if it is large enough, can be used as a natty knapsack as Dick Whittington will testify. In emergencies I have even used the pocket-handkerchief to absorb sizeable tea and coffee spillages (not after I had trumpeted into it I might add) and waved it as an indication of surrender.  Perhaps the most charming aspect of the pocket-handkerchief is that it endures. It can be put in the wash and used again and again and again staying with you like an old friend.

Of course, there are also the obvious environmental benefits to consider: tissues are cast asunder into landfill sites, pocket-handkerchiefs are not. I find this quite ironic, as the main proponents of 'saving the environment' that I have encountered have not possessed a pocket-handkerchief. Somehow the pocket-handkerchief does not quite fit in with the image of an eco-warrior along with other environmentally-friendly items like the fountain pen and blackboards.

So there you have it: the pocket-handkerchief in all its wonder and majesty.  Hopefully, one day, the morning mental check of items before the daily grind will not be restricted to the triumvirate of phone, keys, wallet, but will progress to the quadrumvirate of phone, keys, wallet and…....... pocket-handkerchief.

* I use the word 'regalia' rather than 'accoutrement' because the latter connotes a sense of frippery and triviality which cannot be said of the pocket-handkerchief.