Never Mind the Swankers, Here's ...

(dir. Jeppe Rønde, 2004) [1]

 

'A silk necktie reflected in a shard of broken mirror, a picture 

of Elvis taped to a rusty locker ... What working stiff doesn't 

itch to become a peacock on Saturday night?' [2]

 

 

I. 

 

It's interesting how the three words sway, swagger, and swank share a common Proto-Germanic root and all suggest physical movement (a way of walking, for example, with an air of confidence and a certain defiance). 

 

It's the evolution of the latter term, however, that particularly interests me, and how it functions as a verb, adjective, and noun, and took on meanings to do with being stylish, fashionable, or flamboyant. 

 

That is to say, how it semantically shifted from physical swaying to a more figurative swaggering and eventually came to mean being a bit flash or possessing a rather showy form of elegance. [3]   

 

 

II. 

 

There was a time - before they became the Sex Pistols, but after they were known as The Strand - when the group formed by schoolfriends Steve Jones and Paul Cook were briefly known as The Swankers. (I suspect this was a crude joke on their part that quickly grew tiresome - particularly when the laugh was on them.)   

 

Today, in South Africa, working-class Zulu men who display their sharp sense of style and attitude in amateur competitions involving expensive designer clothes and catwalk choreography are known as swenkas - not so much a corruption of the English term as an accented pronunciation.   

 

While it is popular with younger generations today, the practice of swenking actually originated with older, migrant workers in Johannesburg in the 1960s and '70s. They dressed up on a Saturday night not simply to mess up, but to reclaim their dignity, display a sense of comradeship, and preserve something of Zulu culture. 

 

As one commentator notes: 

 

"The swenkas favoured a formal dress code inspired by jazz-age refinement. Their tailored suits came with brimmed hats and leather shoes, as well as a variety of accessories, including eyewear, gloves, braces and straw hats ..." [4] 

 

Swenking, then, is a genuine revolt into style. And like earlier (European) forms of dandyism, it also involves a certain asceticism; swenkas pride themselves not only on their sartorial appearance, but on their sobriety, cleanliness, and self-discipline [5]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] A 10 min clip from The Swenkas (2004) can be viewed on YouTube by clicking on the link. 

      

[2] Lines quoted from a review of Rønde's film in The New York Times by Jeannette Catsoulis (9 Sept 2005).

 

[3] The shared history of these three words reflects a fascinating phonetic and semantic kinship and their evolution demonstrates a shift from physical kinetics (movement and posture) to social aesthetics (style and status).     

      Sway enters English around the 1200s (likely from Old Norse), referring entirely to the physical motion of moving from side to side.  

      Swagger emerged in the late 1500s (popularised by Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night's Dream). It serves as a frequentative form of swag (which meant to sway heavily), morphing the physical, swinging movement of the body into a walk that projects a defiant form of confidence bordering on arrogance. 

      Swank traces its etymological lineage to the Proto-Germanic root meaning to swing one's hips or toss one's head with a heightened degree of expressiveness. It is also closely aligned with the Middle High German swanken (meaning to sway or totter). 

 

[4] I'm quoting from an interesting short piece by Enrica Picarelli titled 'Problematic Black Iconicity: the Swenkas' (13 April, 2026) and posted on her research blog Afrosartorialism. 

 

[5] We need to exercise a degree of caution here. Dr Picarelli is right to remind us that "this universalist reading is accurate but also problematic", as it implies that all experiences of - and sartorial responses to - poverty and exploitation are the same. 

      It's important to keep in mind that the swenkas are real individuals in a real time and place; that their revolt into style is not the same as that of a dozen Lawrentians cruising along Piccadilly wearing tight red trousers, or that of the young punks who assembled at 430 King's Road.

Dangerously Close to Love: Hommage à Steve Jones (Sex Pistol and Style Icon)

 

Steve Jones wearing an Anarchy shirt and pair of 

Seditionaries boots and looking like the coolest man alive

Photo by Wolfgang Heilemann (August 1976)

 

 

I. 

 

If Johnny Rotten was the face of punk - and Malcolm McLaren the brains - then Steve Jones was the genitalia; the one who supplied a lot of the stylish swagger and foul-mouthed humour to the Sex Pistols; the one who called Bill Grundy a fucking rotter ...

 

Perhaps that's why I always had a lot of affection for Jones, who, in 1972, co-founded The Strand [1] with former schoolmates Paul Cook and Wally Nightingale [2]. They were the band from out of which the Sex Pistols would eventually evolve, sans Wally, but with the crucial addition of Glen Matlock on bass and, later, John Lydon, as lead vocalist and frontman; a role that Jones was never comfortable in. 

 

In fact, Jones was probably much happier nicking musical equipment from wealthy rock stars and clothes from the King's Road store owned by McLaren and Vivienne Westwood. We might discuss whether Vicious is fairly labelled as The Gimmick - or Rotten as The Collaborator - in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980), but Jones certainly loved to steal and so his being cast as The Crook is hardly unjust.    

Fortunately for Jones, Malcolm seemed extremely fond of him and in mid-1975, after years of constant pestering from Jones on the matter, McLaren reluctantly agreed to become the group's manager - but only on the condition that Cook and Jones agree to fire Nightingale (which they did). 

 

Mclaren was also keen that the band change their name and, after suggesting various alternatives, it was agreed that they would be known as Kutie Jones and his Sex Pistols ...

 

For McLaren, the latter part of the name not only referenced his and Vivienne's store, then called SEX, but it also hinted at the idea of young assassins for whom everything was permitted and to whom it was reasonable to demand the impossible. 

 

As for the first part of the name ... well, Kutie was a word much favoured by pornographers to describe a young female model; thus it was, for example, that a vintage fetish magazine published in the late 1950s and early 1960s was entitled QT, punning on this term, as well as the idea of it being something that those in the know kept quiet about [3].

 

 

II. 

 

Why did Wally have to go? 

 

Partly it was because he was, at heart, more pub rock than punk rock and he and Jones found themselves constantly at odds over the band's musical direction; the former favouring a traditional R&B sound, whereas the latter was very much into Bowie, Roxy Music, and the New York Dolls.  

 

But it was also a question of style, not just music; Nightingale didn't look the part, whereas the rest of the band - Cook, Matlock, and especially Jones - were as obsessed with fashion as they were with music; particularly the unique designs sold at 430 King's Road, created by McLaren and Westwood.  

 

This is evidenced by the above photo, taken in August 1976, in which Jones can be seen wearing a pink striped Anarchy shirt, accurately described by Paul Gorman as "the visual equivalent of the music made by McLaren's charges the Sex Pistols; jarring, violently expressive and an act of collage representing an exciting and scrambled manifesto of desires" [4]. 

 

This variant of the shirt contains several of the (now) familiar elements, including the Karl Marx silk patch, the chaos armband, and a stencilled slogan that greatly amused McLaren: Dangerously Close to Love.  

 

Jones is also wearing a pair of Seditionaries boots; if hippies liked their Birkenstock sandals - and skinheads loved their Doc Martens - then the footwear of choice for those punks who could afford to buy a pair was this refashioned suede and leather jodhpur boot, commisioned from the famous English shoemakers George Cox, that came complete with bondage-style straps and buckles.  

I'm not sure about the blue denim jeans - or the slightly dodgy-looking barnet - but Jones looks the business in this picture - as indeed do the rest of the band (before punk became just another uniform):

 

The Sex Pistols: Rotten, Matlock, Cook, and Jones

Photo by Wolfgang Heilemann (August 1976)

 

 

Notes

 

[1] The band took their original name - later changed to the Swankers, at Wally Nightingale's suggestion - from the Roxy Music song 'Do the Strand', written by Bryan Ferry and found on the album For Your Pleasure (Island Records, 1973). Steve Jones has often spoken of his love for Roxy Music during the glam rock period. 

      Those who don't know the song - as well as those who never tire of hearing it - can click here, or here to watch a live performance on The Old Grey Whistle Test (BBC2, 3 April 1973). Surprisingly, 'Do the Strand' wasn't released in the UK as a single until 1978, when it failed to chart.  

 

[2] The guitarist Wally Nightingale is arguably the Pete Best of the Sex Pistols story; it was he who suggested to Cook and Jones that they form a band and he would happily assist the latter in stealing instruments and equipment. He is also credited with writing the music for 'Did You No Wrong', a song which featured as the B-side of the Sex Pistols' single 'God Save the Queen' (1977) - a song that I hated then and still hate now; but which can be played by clicking here.  

      Unfortunately, McLaren didn't think he fitted the image for the band that he had in mind. And so he was fired and Jones became the guitarist. Within six months of Nightingale leaving, they had found a new singer and played their first gig as the Sex Pistols (6 November, 1975) - and the rest, as they say, is history. Sadly, Nightingale died, aged 40, in 1996; still somewhat bitter about his expulsion.    

 

[3] Published monthly by the London-based company Concord Publications, QT ran for 94 issues between late 1956 and the summer of 1964. Click here for more details. In 1974, the magazine was revived under the title New QT, again featuring the work of Britain's top glamour photographer Russell Gay and published by Concord.  

 

[4] Paul Gorman, 'The Anarchy Shirt', Dazed (1 May, 2013): click here.  

 

 

Musical bonus: 'Silly Thing' is a song written by Paul Cook and Steve Jones and which features the latter on vocals. It was released as the third single from the The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (Virgin Records, 1979), reached number 6 in the UK charts, and is a fresh and crisp example of punk popcorn: click here.