In 1931, Beaton Asked a Question; In 2020, Fate Gave an Answer

“Where do the weeks go? They seem to hurry by even quicker than the days or the hours. It is the immediate future that holds such store, and that keeps our enthusiasms so active. If we had time to realise how quickly the unknown becomes the known, the future the present, and the present the past—should we then perhaps take a calmer view of the weeks and minimize our activity? Then maybe one would have time to consider the real significance of all those meetings, those jobs, those pleasures.”
 
Cecil Beaton, February 1931, The Wandering Years, Diaries: 1922-39

A Young (and Idealistic) Cecil Beaton (Center) with His Family on the English Seaside

Cecil Beaton's diaries commence in 1922, nearly one hundred years ago. The first entry found him a student St. John's College in Cambridge—where he enjoyed some success, but just enough to give him a hint of what might (or might fail to) await him in the wider world. That knowledge became torture when he left school and quickly floundered. Beaton struggled in a one-pound-per-week office job for which he was ill-suited. He did not understand that his failure was the result of too much talent, not too little. Typical of his tenure there was when a supervisor reprimanded for adding ornamental flourishes to a business letter he had typed.
 
The young Beaton was all but ready to give up when a deus machina in the form of Edith Sitwell arrived. She and her brothers not only removed him from his office job, they launched him into the stratosphere. His life became a whirlwind of conquests and achievements, as he made a name for himself in London, Paris, New York City, and Hollywood. In a matter of days, Beaton went from moping in his bedroom to photographing London society in a makeshift photography studio. He became the aesthete of the hour, with nary a moment to stop and smell the roses (though he did paint and photograph them).

Edith Sitwell; Photograph by Cecil Beaton

"The Wandering Years, Diaries: 1922-39"

​The years and decades flew by, and ultimately Cecil Beaton became one of the most accomplished and socially connected men of his era. He won wrote over a dozen books, contributed to fashion magazines (as writer, artist, and photographer), won Oscars and Tonys for his film and stage designs, and juggled a dazzling social life. As evidenced in the many volumes of his diaries, Beaton found some time for reflection. Yet, perhaps he spent too much time savoring his accomplishments and not enough simply enjoying the life he had created?
 
As Cecil Beaton noted back in 1931, how easy it is to be catapulted into the future via the means of a busy calendar. And, with improvements in travel and communication, life has only sped up in the subsequent decades. Well, at least it had until March 2020, when the world slammed on its brakes.
 
The Covid-19 pandemic has had tragic consequences, and it is incumbent on us all to do what we can to offer whatever aid and comfort to those adversely affected. However, fate seldom takes away without offering something back in return (one of life’s most challenging lessons to accept). The fortunate among us now have the luxury of time (of which Cecil Beaton wrote back in 1931). Maybe it is not best spent binge-watching Tiger King on Netflix? Instead, why not take in the scent of those roses that Cecil Beaton painted and photographed but was too far busy to savor?

Image Credit: The Wandering Years, Diaries: 1922-39 ​