The day I met Oscar Wilde.

At a house-warming party – Cammie looked at me…I looked at her – to our surprise Oscar Wilde had just walked in. I complimented his scarf and he didn’t seem too pleased. A little stuffy and unapproachable, you could tell he didn’t want to be friends with us. Maybe it’s because we insisted on seeing his apartment? Wandered around his bedroom? Or complimented his dandy-esk appearance?

In our defence we were only admiring his likeness to the author, his style, and his old world, yet modernized decor. We had turned into Wilde groupies.

I can’t imagine sharing this experience with anyone else. If I had they wouldn’t have understood. Cammie – who majored in english literature at Carleton – understood the reference as it immediately entered my mind and before it left my lips.

Let me explain…

In brief, Oscar Wilde was an author. Controversially, his work was used against him in exposing his homosexuality while on trial during a time when being gay was against the law. Cammie and I weren’t being forward. We had been socializing with Hilary – the hosts – neighbours when their friend arrived. This Wilde look-a-like was also a neighbour, and his silk scarf paired with a purplish jacket caught our attention. Our chat led to a tour of their apartments, which were the most beautifully decorated spaces we’ve ever seen.

While in this man’s apartment we were mesmerized. His living room looked as though everything was imported, and set in 19th century England. With a trunk, and bookshelves from floor to ceiling we were in awe. Big, chunky leather couches, and bay windows looking out onto the street. A trunk – just like mine but more expensive looking – against the wall. A coffee table with artistic, and political magazines sprawled across it. His hallway was covered in black and white photos of his famous friends, and family. We ventured into his bedroom where we saw this leather dentistry-surgery-like chair, and more ceiling to floor book shelves. His bed had faux-leather drapes hanging from the banisters…this threw us off a little. Now apprehensive to go any further – but we couldn’t stop ourselves – we went into the bathroom where black leather pants were hanging over the shower-curtain rail. We inquired about the size of his closet – because we had seen the walk in at Hilary’s other neighbours place – but Wilde’s twin refused to let us see. We thought…bondage? And scurried out of the bedroom.

What an experience. In our haze of enthusiasm, and excitement we couldn’t stop ourselves from exploring the man and his apartment. It was unlike anything either of us have ever seen. I doubt we will ever return.


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6 Responses to The day I met Oscar Wilde.

  1. Oscar Wilde inspired me to live a life of hedonism. (almost) true story. Nice blog! 🙂

    • Dee says:

      Hahaha, well I wouldn’t say he inspired me too, but it seemed appealing at the start. Not so much the murdering…but I could live without aging. Thanks!

  2. Stulang Laut says:

    I love this post and sharing
    thank you

  3. As a fellow English Literature scholar heading towards a MA in Journalism (Arts&Culture) this is a very well written post. Oscar Wilde is one of my favorite authors because he infused a lot of themes and intricately included fashion or the dandy is most of his works. He was truly a innovator, and the look-a -like seemed very reclusive just as I thought Wilde would be in person.

    • Dee says:

      I’m happy that you enjoyed it. I love The Picture of Dorian Gray…to the point where I’m writing papers on it in anything subject/class I can. It’s very unique, and is still relevant to our generations (even more so than one would think). Thanks for stopping by!

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