THE LAST STRAW/Frank McNally: This column yields to none in its admiration for France. So when traditionalists were wringing their hands last year at the "rebranding" of Dublin's Shelbourne Hotel by its French owners, we reacted with a Gallic-style shrug. Anyway, with 175 years behind it, the old name was secure, we knew. The chances of any Dublin taxi driver using the new one - Le Meridian Shelbourne - in the next 175 years were remote.
But when, passing the hotel this week, we saw for the first time the doorman's new uniform, we were stopped in our tracks. "Sacre Bleu!" I said (shocked back into the first person singular). For a moment, I thought I was on holidays. But no, that was definitely St Stephen's Green across the street. So I looked again at the flat-topped kepi the doorman was wearing, and the cape, as he paced back and forth. And I swear, it was like seeing General de Gaulle in his wartime exile.
Now, as I say, I'm not one to criticise the French. Especially at the moment, with bitterness lingering in certain quarters from a recent European rugby match, when a French player apparently took a big bite out of Munster veteran Peter Clohessy. No. This column will not resort to jingoism or anti-French sloganeering at this time (although, having said that, "you'll never eat the Irish" would be a good one).
The fact is, many of our best restaurants rebranded themselves long ago, adopting French design and using French for everything on the menu (except "service not included"), and we didn't complain. In fashion, the influence has been even greater. Among the recent tributes to Yves Saint Laurent, one expert said he "wrote the grammar for the contemporary wardrobe". And while I had to reflect that my own wardrobe was barely literate, apart from the indefinite articles I bought on holiday a few years ago and never had the courage to wear, I knew what she meant.
It should also be said that wearing unusual clothes is part of the job of the hotel doorman. If you're self-conscious, this is not a career for you. Especially in the more expensive hotels, the doorman's uniform reassures arriving guests that they are not overdressed - obviously a common fear among wealthy tourists. But extravagant as they may be, the designs do usually have local historical relevance. And this is where the Shelbourne's new uniform falls down like a circus clown's trousers.
THE hotel has been part of Dublin's history since just after the Napoleonic wars. When the shooting began in the Green in 1916, afternoon tea was transferred, famously, to the hotel's reading room. The hotel was then synonymous with the "Irish Raj," the old ruling class. But independence came, first to Ireland and, several decades later, to the Shelbourne. Sean Lemass began frequenting it in the 1950s, and the majority community followed. And now, barely half a century after it was liberated, the Shelbourne has fallen again, to France. It's like Alsace-Lorraine over there.
Ironically, the corporate uniform has been introduced here at a time when France is more concerned than ever about Anglo-American globalisation at home. The latest threat is the publication in French of English cookery writer Delia Smith, a provocation which in the 19th century would have led to war. While the advance of Delia Smith cannot now be stopped, however, France does protect its cultural values, and by law where it can.
The law aside, France treasures its traditions. Writing recently about a ceremony marking the 209th anniversary of Louis XVI's execution, our Paris correspondent was cautioned: "Don't be too hard on them. It still means a lot to a great many people." And indeed, as she wrote, there remained two pretenders to the vacant throne: Henri d'Orleans, who "calls himself Duc de France", and Prince Louis de Bourbon, Duc d'Anjou. The latter is more credible, apparently. (I agree - if he walks like a Duc, and talks like a Duc, etc.)
But to get back to my point, whatever it was. Oh yes, the Shelbourne. I know that a hotel is primarily a business rather than a cultural value. Nevertheless, the doorman's role is to welcome guests. And if the traditional welcome is not an Irish cultural value, what is? Granted, the new uniform might not even be noticeable except for the unique French taste in headgear. For all its greatness in fashion, France has never convinced the world with its approach to formal hat design. Maybe if Napoleon had sent us a bigger army in 1798, the gardaí would be wearing kepis now. But history is history. And unfortunately, nothing says "France" quite like a flat-topped cap. Consequently, the Shelbourne's uniform says "bienvenu" rather than "céad míle fáilte". Out of respect for tradition, I would ask the management to - as we say in Ireland - show it the door.
fmcnally@irish-times.ie