Louis Vuitton fan photo courtesy of www.ilvoelv.com
As I sat in the stands at Barcelona’s Camp Nou stadium last week, gazing out at the huge crowd (it seats almost 99,000 and is a truly impressive venue when full of fervent Barça supporters), a strange but constant flickering caught my eye. It took me a moment to realise that it was the fluttering of thousands of fans in the hands of the female spectators, all moving at more or less the same time in an attempt to conjure up some much-needed cool air in the otherwise still arena.
It was a sight that I would have expected to see at a midsummer bullfight rather than at a city football game (that’s soccer for you antipodeans out there, but only you). But, unlike an archaic and usually gory bullfight, it is one enduring tradition in Spain that makes perfect sense and which has no reason to be frowned upon for any reason at all, humanitarian or otherwise.
The folding fan was first seen in Japan just over a thousand years ago, and brought to Portugal in the 15th century where it spread to southern Europe and eventually England.
It was used for decorative, ceremonial and, most famously, seductive purposes – the latter elevated to an art form by our sexy friends the French – but somewhere along the way it went back to being simply functional or relegated to the domain of the performance arts, the province of flamenco or burlesque dancers. Perhaps that’s why they seem to retain some of their old-world, seductive allure when you use one in public, which, it has to be said, also makes them a lot of fun to use!
I originally learnt to use a fan in the course of my flamenco dance studies, but I’ve never used my fans so much as I have this summer in Spain. Right now I am rarely without one, even on the beach, but especially in the bars. The fact that at night the temperature really doesn’t drop that much and the breeze regularly does, means having one of these tucked handily into your handbag is a must-have accessory.
I often get looks from people when I use one, but not usually from the locals, who are already in on the secret of stylish ventilation. And now that I think back on it, my mother has always used a fan in church or the theatre, well before my sister and I lived in Japan and starting adding Oriental pieces to her collection. To her delight it is now expanding with Spanish versions in, it has to be said, somewhat brighter and sexier colours and patterns.
They come, of course, in all sizes and varying degrees of elaborateness and price. I naturally covet the ones Rossy de Palma designed with Louis Vuitton earlier in the year, but so far have confined myself to ones picked up in little stores and markets in Granada and Seville. I have larger ones for dancing and medium-sized ones for cultural events, plus a small one for nightclubs or when I know I will be in a space where I may cause some grief to others if I go about waving a gigantic pink fan in everyone’s faces.
You may think it a hassle to carry one around with you all night but, believe me, when you see the envious looks of the girls (and quite a few of the guys) who realise that they either don’t own one or have forgotten to bring theirs along, you feel it was all worth it. That and the fact that you are keeping cool whilst looking fabulous at the same time of course.
And so I shall be continuing the tradition with gusto this coming summer in Sydney, hoping to add more converts to the art than my already-fanning flamenco friends. After all, how can you go wrong with an attractive and environmentally friendly accessory that keeps your makeup from running and your hair from frizzing? And perhaps, as a bonus, even lets you indulge in some harmless flirtation as well. To that I can only say, olé!!
Happy fanning!
Rubi
