Read this fascinating post, with photos, by Debi Bender of Monkey Sox, who, if I’m not mistaken, entered at least one drawing into the Eustace Tilley contest. Bender’s discovered a monocle-wearing, dandy-channeling performer named Vesta Tilley from early in the last century (but when, precisely? This obviously calls for further Eustace Googling, perhaps a little later since I’m going outside). Rea Irvin was an actor, so he may have run across V.T. in his theatrical circles, or perhaps he happened on one of the terrific photos that Bender shares in this entry. She writes:

Coincidental surname? Vesta Tilley, a famous and very popular (and happily married) English male impersonator, often played a dandy, singing and acting in theaters in New York.

Chorus on the playbill in which Vesta Tilley sang this ‘dandy’ number:

“He has the latest thing in collars, the latest thing in ties,
The latest specimen of girly girls with the latest blue blue eyes,
He knows the latest bit of scandal, in fact he gave it birth,
But when it comes to getting up of mornings, he’s the latest chap on earth.”

Think it’s all a saucy hoax? No indeed—she’s real (I couldn’t help it). Thanks to Bender for bringing it to light! And V.T., née Matilda Powles (1864-1952)—who reportedly began performing at age 4 as “The Great Little Tilley”—gives a whole new twist to gender-bending contest entries like this one (“Eustace Revealed”).

Meanwhile, happy Tilley winner Peter Emmerich (who, says his bio, “worked as a Character Artist for the Walt Disney Co. for a little over six years”) writes:

My Frankenstein Eustace Tilley was selected as one of the winners of The New Yorker contest. The image will appear on The New Yorker website for a year and (supposedly) will be printed in their 83rd anniversary issue. From what I understand they will not be able to print them all. Either way I was glad I did it and it was a lot of fun whether I was a winner or not. I am grateful to have been selected.

I’ve been enjoying seeing how each artist takes on Irvin’s typeface on the cover, and in some cases, how they rearrange, deconstruct, or replace it altogether. Here’s a Tilley made entirely of Edwardian script. Clever!