One of the things that we get to do here is recognize the unsung heroes of our world, the ones who by all rights should have a holiday of their own but have somehow been missed. And today, on the 75th anniversary of the first time he was laughed at in public, we review the contribution of Bumfester Chugtrollop, the inventor of the photographer’s vest.
First, we need a little history of the vest in the first place, which can not be credited to Chugtrollop; in fact, the originator is lost to time, probably because his wife threw out the initial sketches when she was ‘cleaning up.’ But we are certain that it was a man at least, because in the years before the first recorded evidence of a vest, there was a distinct fashion trend towards white shirts with ruffles and other silly-ass things that were certainly not the idea of any male. The function of the vest, or ‘waistcoat,’ was to have a dark-colored covering over the chest and stomach of the male wearer, because we all know how men eat, and getting stains out of white shirts was the bane of their existence.
[Fun fact: Any stains are actually quite easy to remove, with the proper chemicals, but the insistence on favoring cloth too delicate for these as the base material for white shirts is what causes all the problems in the first place. “Ooh, look at how great you look in silk!” Right. But even easy stuff to clean up gives women the opportunity to scold, and dry cleaners soon discovered the concept of extra fees for stain removal, meaning they could charge up front based solely on appearance, regardless of how little extra effort was involved in cleaning.]
Thus, the vest was born, masquerading as a fashion accessory while functionally easing the lives of men, hiding the drips from the mutton and serving as napkins when needed. You have not failed to notice that many vests use colorful and delicate material only for the backs, we assume? Had to be a man. The creator of the white vest was obviously some poncy bastard that was trying to show off and probably ate mostly dry salads.
Soon, it was discovered that by sewing a small square of extra fabric onto the vest, men had someplace to put their pocket watches, which before then had merely been held in one hand or dangled from an ear. These extra squares were quickly called “pockets” after the watches – many, many people assume that it was the other way around, but the Pocket Watch was a particular model created by Smedley Pocket with an extra compartment to hide nude engravings within; this also gave rise to the term, “pocket pool.” Soon afterward, pockets migrated to the trousers (surprise,) jackets, and billiard tables, which until that time had merely had ramps in the corners to launch the balls from.
[Fun fact: Both podiatrists and floor refinishers protested this change to billiards, but the pockets proved too popular, so they joined forces to invent the treacherous raised threshold and maintain their respective incomes.]
It was probably about a century later that Chugtrollop came up with his ‘brilliant’ idea; he was a working cinematographer and constantly fumbling around with lens caps, light meters, cable releases, gaffers’ tape, and model prods (which impressed cattlemen enough that they adapted a version for their own use, though at a lower voltage.) The Production Assistant had yet to come along, so Chugtrollop added numerous pockets to an old vest that he hadn’t used since the divorce, and began wearing this during his duties. This had the added benefit of making people assume the distended belly of the vest was burdened with tools of the trade and not simply a distended belly; every little bit helps. Other photographers took note that Chugtrollop could actually shake hands with prospective clients (or slap a Best Boy behind the ear) without needing a bench to pile stuff on, and the trend was soon on its way.
Chugtrollop’s real genius, however, was in marketing the accessory as a photographer’s vest, as if this meant it was specially designed or constructed or something, and thus was able to charge a premium price for a square meter of old canvas that didn’t even need to be measured for fit, a trend that continues to this day. He was inadvertently aided by the fact that anyone seeing him wearing it, having never seen one before, assumed that it was a specific tool of photographers and thus had to obtain one for themselves the moment they purchased a Kodak Brownie; the high price simply convinced them that they were correct.
[Fun fact: Chugtrollop had nothing to do with the trend of wearing a beret, or even of using a long cigarette holder – those both can be credited to others. Beret is in truth a French term that means, “incompetent hatmaker,” and they were originally rejects only sold to the impoverished, i.e., mimes. How they came to be used by filmmakers is another story and not germane to the holiday we’re celebrating.]
Today, vests with an inordinate amount of pockets automatically spell out, “photographer” to anyone that sees them, even though somehow you don’t hear people saying, “Wow, that’s a great photo – you must have a really good vest!” Yeah, we’re puzzled too. And they can be handy at times, though far more often, photographers waste time trying to determine which pocket holds the damn thing they’re trying to find at the moment. Admittedly, it would also be a hassle emptying out all the pockets before putting it in the wash, if indeed they were ever put in the wash. Their most important function, however, is announcing to one and all that here is a professional photographer, justifying the arrogant attitude that invariably goes along with wearing one. Without this, they would just be another asshole.