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William Powell’s Chalkstripe Suit in Manhattan Melodrama

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William Powell as Jim Wade in Manhattan Melodrama (1934)

William Powell as Jim Wade in Manhattan Melodrama (1934)

Vitals

William Powell as Jim Wade, crusading assistant district attorney

New York City, Spring 1934

Film: Manhattan Melodrama
Release Date: May 4, 1934
Director: W.S. Van Dyke
Costume Designer: Dolly Tree

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

Happy birthday, William Powell! The suave actor was born July 29, 1892, in my hometown of Pittsburgh, though he moved to Kansas City as a teenager. He only stayed there three years before moving to New York at the age of 18 to pursue a career as an actor, eventually becoming one of the best known actors of Hollywood’s “golden era” with three Academy Award nominations for Best Actor recognizing his performances in The Thin Man (1934), My Man Godfrey (1936), and Life with Father (1947).

Powell’s chemistry with Myrna Loy, most famously showcased as detective couple Nick and Nora Charles in the “Thin Man” series, made them one of the most iconic on-screen duos, though their first of 14 cinematic collaborations was Manhattan Melodrama in 1934. This pre-Code crime drama co-starred Clark Gable as “Blackie” Gallagher, a smooth gangster and childhood friend of Powell’s Jim Wade, an honest lawyer who is forced to choose between his duty and his friendship as he rises the ranks from assistant district attorney to governor of New York.

Manhattan Melodrama was still in theaters on July 22, 1934, when infamous bank robber John Dillinger strolled into Chicago’s Biograph Theater with his new girlfriend, Polly Hamilton, and local brothel madam Anna Sage. Little did Dillinger know that Sage had tipped off federal agent Melvin Purvis to the outlaw’s whereabouts that evening. After Dillinger took in an hour and a half of watching the charismatic Gable pay the ultimate toll for his character’s crimes, he left the theater with Hamilton and Sage. Signaled by Sage’s conspicuous orange skirt, Purvis and his agents moved in with guns drawn, cornering Public Enemy Number One, as Special Agent Charles Winstead fired the fatal shots into Dillinger with his .45. More than 85 years later, the killing remains shrouded in controversy and mystery: Was Dillinger actually reaching for a pistol in his trouser pocket, or was he unarmed when he was killed? Was it even the real John Dillinger or a stand-in who was shot that evening?

Much as Dillinger’s ultimate fate was brought about by someone he believed to be his friend, so too was Blackie Gallagher’s execution sealed by his former friend Jim’s decision to prosecute him. Wracked by guilt, Jim sent a note to his erstwhile pal, apologizing but explaining that “I had to do it.” Blackie’s response? “Okay kid, I can take it. P.S. and can you dish it out.”

What’d He Wear?

After my weeklong beach vacation, it’s another Monday back at work for me and a return to the world of three-piece suits and ties. One of the most elegant actors of his time, William Powell was characteristically dressed in a sharp suit fashionable for the early 1930s as Jim Wade. One of my particular favorites was the briefly seen chalk-striped flannel three-piece suit he wears during the climactic courtroom scene for his successful prosecution of his former friend Blackie Gallagher. Given the staid setting of a courtroom, we can expect that Wade’s suiting is a conservative business color like blue or gray, most likely a medium-dark shade of the latter.

Peak lapels are typically associated with double-breasted jackets—to the extent that they’re also known as “double-breasted lapels”—but the cyclical nature of men’s fashion sees a return of single-breasted, peak-lapel suit jackets every 40 years or so, beginning with the late 1920s and early 1930s.

Additional character to Powell’s suit jacket comes from the shape of his peak lapels with slanted gorges and a full, rounded belly. The lapel shape emphasizes the shoulders, with their roped sleeveheads, and they roll to a single-button closure that fastens at the natural waist, suppressed for a more athletic silhouette.

The ventless suit jacket has a welted breast pocket (where Wade wears a white linen pocket square), straight flapped hip pockets and a jetted ticket pocket with no flap, and four-button cuffs at the end of each sleeve.

Jim Wade makes his impassioned case for the jury.

Jim Wade makes his impassioned case for the jury.

Jim Wade opts for a classic white cotton shirt, a simple and elegant choice that lends the appropriate gravitas to his suit. The shirt is appointed with the textbook definition of a point collar, though it could be argued that a collar with greater spread could be more complementary to William Powell’s lean frame and head shape. Wade’s white shirt also has squared double (French) cuffs, dressed with unobtrusive cuff links.

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA

Wade wears a woven silk tie in a neat micro grid check, similar to a Macclesfield, tied in a tight four-in-hand.

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA

The suit’s matching waistcoat (vest) has five buttons down the single-breasted front to the notched bottom. Powell wears all five fastened though standard practice for waistcoats is to leave the lowest button undone like a suit jacket. The waistcoat has two welted pockets, in line with the center of the five buttons, and Powell wears his character’s pocket watch in one of them.

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA

Little is seen of the trousers, but they have an appropriately high rise that conceals the top under the waistcoat and are detailed consistent with ’30s trends with pleats and turn-ups (cuffs) on the bottoms. His shoes are dark oxfords, the most appropriate footwear for the suit and occasion.

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA

Particularly in the cooler months, hats and coats were still a de facto requirement for gents in the early ’30s. Jim Wade wears a light felt fedora with a black ribbed grosgrain silk band.

His long, heavy tweed overcoat is made from a light-colored birdseye wool cloth with a 6×3-buttoning double-breasted front for an extra layer of warmth against the chill of a Manhattan spring, reinforced by a self-belt. The coat also has peak lapels and large patch pockets on the hips with rectangular flaps and rounded bottoms.

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA

Wade completes his outerwear with a light-colored scarf with dark stripes spaced just under an inch apart.

How to Get the Look

William Powell as Jim Wade in Manhattan Melodrama (1934)

William Powell as Jim Wade in Manhattan Melodrama (1934)

While Jim Wade’s three-piece suit may sacrifice formality for its unique and fashionable detailing such as a single-button jacket with full-bellied peak lapels and flapped ticket pocket, the debonair William Powell wears it with his characteristically smooth panache that never fails to command the courtroom.

  • Dark chalk-stripe flannel suit:
    • Single-breasted 1-button jacket with full-bellied peak lapels (with slanted gorges), welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, flapped ticket pocket, 4-button cuffs, and ventless back
    • Single-breasted 5-button waistcoat with welted pockets and notched bottom
    • Pleated trousers with turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with point collar and double/French cuffs
  • Mini grid-check silk tie
  • Dark oxford shoes
  • Pocket watch
  • Light-colored birdseye woolen tweed double-breasted overcoat with peak lapels, 6×3-button front, self-belt, and rounded-bottom patch pockets (with rectangular flaps)
  • Light-colored felt fedora with black ribbed grosgrain silk band
  • Light-colored scarf with dark stripes

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie, just be more careful than John Dillinger was after you’re finished watching it.


Bruno’s Hitch-Designed Lobster Tie in Strangers on a Train

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Robert Walker as Bruno Antony in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Robert Walker as Bruno Antony in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Vitals

Robert Walker as Bruno Antony, obsessive psychopath who “never seemed to do anything”

On the train from Washington, D.C., to New York, Late Summer 1950

Film: Strangers on a Train
Release Date: June 30, 1951
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Costume Designer: Leah Rhodes

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

This week, BAMF Style commemorates the birthday of Alfred Hitchcock, showcasing some notable men’s style across the oeuvre of the “Master of Suspense” who was born 120 years ago today on August 13, 1899.

Alfred Hitchcock's trademark cameo in Strangers on a Train was directed by his daughter Patricia, who would also star in the film as Barbara Morton, younger sister of Guy Haines' sophisticated love interest Anne Morton (Ruth Roman).

Alfred Hitchcock’s trademark cameo in Strangers on a Train was directed by his daughter Patricia, who would also star in the film as Barbara Morton, younger sister of Guy Haines’ sophisticated love interest Anne Morton (Ruth Roman).

Strangers on a Train kicked off what is often considered Hitch’s renaissance following the director’s lack of box office success in the late 1940s. By concealing his identity, he was able to obtain the rights to Patricia Highsmith’s first novel for a paltry $7,500, frustrating the author when she learned that it was the famous director who had so cheaply purchased the rights. Highsmith’s opinion of the adaptation would waver over the years, but she remained steadfast in her praise for Robert Walker’s electrifying performance as Bruno Antony, the almost childlike psychopath “who held the movie together as he did the book.”

Robert Walker was pleased to learn during the production that he had been Hitchcock’s only choice for the role of Bruno, though the movie would sadly prove to be the last released during his lifetime; the talented actor died eight months after filming wrapped at the young age of 32 when he suffered an allergic reaction to the effects of amobarbital administered by his psychiatrist, Frederick Hacker, and its reaction to the alcohol already in his blood stream.

Farley Granger and Robert Walker on the set of Strangers on a Train, getting along far more affably than their characters.

Farley Granger and Robert Walker on the set of Strangers on a Train, getting along far more affably than their characters.

While Walker may have been Hitchcock’s first choice, the director was less than pleased with the first screenwriter who agreed to take on the project. Armed with a compelling treatment by Whitfield Cook that softened the Bruno character and drizzled in a homoerotic subtext, Hitch approached numerous “name” writers for what would be his comeback project to kick off his peak decade. Neither Dashiell Hammett, John Steinbeck, nor Thornton Wilder would take the project, and the Strangers on a Train screenplay was eventually assigned to pulp writer Raymond Chandler who had found success with his series of detective novels featuring Philip Marlowe and his Oscar-nominated screenplay for Double Indemnity. The two auteurs got along like oil and water and Chandler in particular grew impatient and combative with Hitchcock, leading to his dismissal from the project in September 1950, shortly before production would begin.

Unavailable to help on the project himself, Ben Hecht offered his assistant, Czenzi Ormonde, whose well-received short story collection and striking good looks both appealed to Hitchcock. Ormonde, Hitchcock’s associate producer Barbara Keon, and Hitchcock’s wife Alma Reville proved to be a fruitful collaboration as the three women completed the working script by early November, incorporating such iconic elements as Guy Haines’s “A to G” monogrammed Ronson cigarette lighter, Miriam’s thick glasses, and the runaway merry-go-round during the climax. Despite the trio’s hard work and Chandler’s early dismissal, Warner Brothers insisted that the latter be credited to capitalize on his prestige so the final screenplay was credited to Raymond Chandler and Czenzi Ormonde. The movie remains one of Ormonde’s only six screenwriting credits, two of which include televised adaptations of Strangers on a Train.

The movie begins with Hitchcock’s frequently visited motif of the “perfect murder”. Guy Haines (Farley Granger), an affable tennis star in a loveless marriage to the promiscuous music store clerk Miriam (Kasey Rogers, credited as Laura Elliott), takes his seat across from the charismatic Bruno on his train ride to New York, via his fictional hometown of Metcalf, New Jersey. This crucial opening scene is an instance of Hitchcock’s detail-oriented involvement in all aspects of the production, right down to determining Bruno’s lunch order on the train in accordance with the director’s belief that “preferences in food characterize people,” explaining that:

Bruno orders with gusto and with an interest in what he is going to eat — lamb chops, French fries, and chocolate ice cream. A very good choice for train food. And the chocolate ice cream is probably what he thought about first. Bruno is rather a child. He is also something of a hedonist. Guy, on the other hand, shows little interest in eating the lunch, apparently having given it no advance thought, in contrast to Bruno, and he merely orders what seems his routine choice, a hamburger and coffee.

Despite his charm, Bruno is perhaps not well-versed in the art of small talk and the polite conversation soon shifts to his much-considered murder scheme of two perfect strangers agreeing to “swap murders,” with Bruno killing the vulgar Miriam in exchange for Guy eliminating Bruno’s despised father:

You do my murder, I’ll do yours.

What do you say to a thing like that? Guy feigns amusement for the sake of politeness, but the psychopathic Bruno mistakes this as an endorsement of the deadly scheme.

What’d He Wear?

With Bruno’s multi-striped suiting, pinned shirt collar and cuff links, lobster-printed tie and personalized (aka mommy-made) clip, and the boldly contrasting two-toned shoes, Leah Rhodes’ expert costume design and Hitchcock’s involved direction effectively establish the fussy chaos that defines the deranged Mr. Antony, particularly when compared to the humbler Guy Haines and his more subdued sartorial approach of a woolen tweed sack-style sports coat and flannel slacks, white button-down collar shirt, classic checked tie, dark sweater vest, and—of course—dark brogues.

Production photo of Farley Granger and Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train.

Production photo of Farley Granger and Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train.

Bruno Antony spends this memorable first scene in a medium-dark flannel suit that is alternately striped in a single pinstripe and a triple track-stripe. The style is consistent with fashions of the late 1940s and early 1950s with a full fit through the drape-cut jacket and pleated trousers. Regarding color, a contemporary colorized lobby card suggests that the suit is an olive shade of brown, but that may have been the subjective choice of the illustrator rather than influenced by the suit’s actual appearance.

The single-breasted suit jacket has notch lapels that roll to a two-button front. The shoulders are padded and roped at the sleeveheads, and each sleeve is finished with a three-button cuff. The nature of his appearance in these scenes—often seated behind a table—conceals much of his lower half, but we see that the jacket has a flapped ticket pocket on the right side in addition to the straight, flapped hip pockets. Bruno wears his usual white linen pocket square folded and on display in his welted breast pocket.

Bruno turns on the charm when making Guy's acquaintance on the train.

Bruno turns on the charm when making Guy’s acquaintance on the train.

As mentioned, Bruno doesn’t show off much of his suit below the lapels as he spends most of his time on the train either hunched or reclined behind a table, but his trousers appear to have reverse pleats and are most assuredly finished at the bottoms with turn-ups (cuffs). Despite the “overdone” lamb chops, Bruno’s fulfilling lunch results in him unhooking his trouser fly and loosening his belt, a strap of dark leather that fastens through a single-prong buckle.

The detail of Bruno's undone belt is subtle but effective. Our attention is never drawn to it, but it reflects his deep lack of decorum despite overly polite mannerisms while also being suggestive in itself by having Bruno loosening his trouser fly while entertaining Guy in his private room.

The detail of Bruno’s undone belt is subtle but effective. Our attention is never drawn to it, but it reflects his deep lack of decorum despite overly polite mannerisms while also being suggestive in itself by having Bruno loosening his trouser fly while entertaining Guy in his private room.

Bruno balances his striped suit and boldly patterned tie with a plain white broadcloth cotton shirt. With the exception of a thinly striped shirt that appears later in the film, he exclusively wears these white shirts with his lounge suits. The shirt has a front placket, double (French) cuffs worn with dark round links, and a spread collar pinned under the tie knot. The pinned collar has recently come back en vogue thanks to Roger Sterling’s style on Mad Men and Daniel Craig’s most recent adventures as James Bond in Spectre.

For someone with obsessive tendencies like Bruno Antony, a pinned collar ensures that one’s appearance stays fastidious whether leaning back after a large lunch or hanging on for life on an out-of-control merry-go-round.

STRANGERS ON A TRAIN

Alfred Hitchcock personally designed the distinctive lobster-printed tie that Bruno wears, the menacing claws of the many lobsters communicating how Bruno already has his “claws” into Guy from their first fateful meeting on the train. The lobsters on his tie are likely red like the actual crustacean, printed on a dark ground. Novelty ties like this are now available on Amazon without requiring the design of the Master of Suspense himself, with large red lobsters on black or navy, depending on your preference; if you prefer a more subtle approach, Alynn offers a silk tie with a neater, organized pattern of smaller lobsters against a mixed navy ground.

Note Guy's signature "A to G" lighter, having essentially already shifted into Bruno's possession. The Ronson lighter is undeniably present throughout the scene, foreshadowing its significance to follow.

Note Guy’s signature “A to G” lighter, having essentially already shifted into Bruno’s possession. The Ronson lighter is undeniably present throughout the scene, foreshadowing its significance to follow.

“By the way, my name is Bruno… Bruno Antony,” he introduces himself before offering his gold personalized tie clip of his cursive-scripted first name as evidence: “See?”

"Well, I suppose you think it's corny, but my mother gave it to me, so I have to wear it to please her," Bruno overshares, establishing his twist on the classic Oedipal complex within seconds of making Guy's acquaintance.

“Well, I suppose you think it’s corny, but my mother gave it to me, so I have to wear it to please her,” Bruno overshares, establishing his twist on the classic Oedipal complex within seconds of making Guy’s acquaintance.

FADE IN:

EXT. UNION STATION, WASHINGTON, D.C. DAY LONG SHOT THE CAPITOL DOME IN THE B.G. AND THE AUTOMOBILE ENTRANCE TO THE STATION IN THE F.G. LOW CAMERA

Activity of cars and taxis arriving and discharging passengers with luggage, busy redcaps, etcetera.

We FOCUS on a taxi pulling up and stopping, The driver hands out modest looking luggage, including a bunch of tennis rackets in cases to a redcap. CAMERA PANS DOWN as the passenger gets out of the taxi so that we see only his shoes and the lower part of his trousers. He is wearing dark colored brogues and a conservative suit apparently. The feet move toward, the entrance to the station and out of scene. Immediately a chauffeur-driven limousine drives up and an expensive place of airplane luggage is handed out of this, and the passenger alighting from the back is seen to be wearing black and white sport shoes which, as before, are all we see of him. The sport shoes start off in the wake of the brogues.

As intended by the original screenplay, Bruno’s and Guy’s shoes are the first we see of the characters, and their respective footwear does wonders to establish their personalities. Guy’s plain dark brogues communicate that he is our Hitchcockian “everyman” while the gaudier two-tone spectator shoes evoke the questionable characters of the early 20th century that led to the shoe’s moniker as the “correspondent shoe” in reference to the caddish “correspondents” often cited as the offending party in the era’s divorce proceedings.

Bruno’s medallion oxfords have black leather on the cap toe, over the bal-type closed lacing, and on the rear quarters, while the rest of the shoes are a stark white leather. The shine suggests patent leather, a flashier choice for an already flashy style of shoe. Bruno wears them with dark ribbed socks.

The contrast of Bruno's bolder suit trousers and two-tone shoes communicate that he will be the agent of chaos for the more soberly dressed gentleman with whom he collides on the train.

The contrast of Bruno’s bolder suit trousers and two-tone shoes communicate that he will be the agent of chaos for the more soberly dressed gentleman with whom he collides on the train.

We get a glimpse of Bruno’s wristwatch on its dark leather strap as he first settles in beside Guy on the train, but the audience’s best look at Bruno’s watch comes in a later scene, minutes after he has strangled Miriam at Magic Isle and is checking the time during his getaway. The chronograph’s dial fills the screen, displaying the gold Arabic number markers around the dial, three hands (including a second hand), sub-dial registers at 11:00 and 7:00, and the words “SWISS MADE” flanking the 6:00 marker. Three red rings circle the center of the watch dial;  The watchmaker’s logo has been removed from the middle ring, but the word “SPORT” is visible in the bottom of the center ring.

I suggest following the discussion at Watches in Movies, where horological detectives have narrowed down the possible manufacturers to Endura and Rego, two watchmakers from the era who made very similar-looking watches that could both be contenders for Bruno’s particular timepiece.

Note where the watchmaker's name was "scrubbed" from the dial. Both Endura and Rego watches placed their brand name here.

Note where the watchmaker’s name was “scrubbed” from the dial. Both Endura and Rego watches placed their brand name here.

Bruno wears a medium-colored felt fedora throughout Strangers on a Train, though it’s only seen in this early sequence from behind during the opening montage of both men boarding the train.

STRANGERS ON A TRAIN

The striped suit appears once more during Strangers on a Train when Guy spots Bruno among the audience at one of his tennis matches. Bruno makes his presence apparent by not moving his head to follow the match like his fellow spectators, instead keeping his eyes trained directly on Guy.

One of many masterful shots by cinematographer Robert Burks in Strangers on a Train.

One of many masterful shots by cinematographer Robert Burks in Strangers on a Train.

Following the match, Guy encounters Bruno speaking French with the Darvilles, friends of the Morton family, and charms his way into an invitation to a party at the Mortons’ house that Thursday. Anne is alarmed when she recognizes Bruno’s distinctive tie clip, worn here with a dark knitted silk tie, a subdued alternative to the lobster-print tie from the opening scene.

Anne catches sight of Bruno's unusual tie clip, here worn on a much more conventional knitted silk tie, and recognizes that something is amiss with their mysterious interloper.

Anne catches sight of Bruno’s unusual tie clip, here worn on a much more conventional knitted silk tie, and recognizes that something is amiss with their mysterious interloper.

While the soigné Bruno is well-tailored throughout Strangers on a Train from his dapper suits to formal white tie and tails, one of his most notable costumes is the satin silk printed dressing gown that he wears with dark silk pajamas and scarf while lounging around the family estate in Arlington. The dark robe’s pattern is a series of light saucers and swirls, the latter resembling a Deco-inspired take on smoking cigarettes, a particularly suitable motif as Bruno lights one of his tiny cigars with Guy’s trademark lighter while explaining to Anne that Guy must have left said lighter on Magic Isle after he killed Miriam there. (Which, of course, he did not.)

Bruno strides through his living room after hearing Anne's chat with his mother.

Bruno strides through his living room after hearing Anne’s chat with his mother.

The dressing gown has been identified as one of the same robes that Monty Woolley wore in The Man Who Came to Dinner, one of several notable pieces of leisurewear that Woolley’s character Sheridan Whiteside sports in that 1942 comedy. Orry-Kelly designed the gowns and costumes for The Man Who Came to Dinner, and it was likely passed down to his one-time chief assistant Leah Rhodes who took over his duties as Warner Brothers’ chief costume designer when Orry-Kelly joined the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II.

What to Imbibe

“I guess I’m a little jittery,” Guy offers as his apology for rightly dismissing Bruno’s prodding into his personal life. “Oh, there’s a new cure for that,” Bruno slyly responds, calling over a waiter to order:

Scotch and plain water, please, a pair. Doubles.

He turns to his tennis-playing acquaintance and charmingly adds, “the only kind of doubles I play.” Guy initially refuses the drink but, once it’s served, he realizes it could help steady his nerves about seeing his wife in Metcalf and joins Bruno, a sign that he’s already somewhat corrupted by the charming psychopath.

"Here's to the next Mrs. Haines!"

“Here’s to the next Mrs. Haines!”

How to Get the Look

Robert Walker as Bruno Antony in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Robert Walker as Bruno Antony in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Bruno Antony’s personality can be summed up by his tie and tie clip; a potentially dangerous, menacing animal once he gets his claws into you, kept in place only by his sense of decorum, his devotion to his mother, and the impression he initially gives off of a harmless eccentric. Eccentric touches aside, Robert Walker dresses very well throughout Strangers on a Train.

  • Medium-colored suit with alternating pinstripe and triple track-striped flannel:
    • Single-breasted 2-button drape-cut suit jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, 3-button cuffs, and single vent
    • Single reverse-pleated trousers with belt loops and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White broadcloth cotton shirt with pinned collar, front placket, and double/French cuffs
    • Dark round cuff links
  • Lobster-printed tie
    • Personalized gold tie clip with cursive “Bruno”
  • Dark leather belt with rectangular single-prong buckle
  • Black-and-white patent leather medallion cap-toe spectator oxfords
  • Dark ribbed socks
  • Dark fedora
  • Vintage sport chronograph watch with sub-dials at 11:00 and 7:00 on a dark leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie and learn more about Strangers on a Train in this Mental Floss article. You should also read Patricia Highsmith’s 1950 novel, the first of a prolific career that would include The Price of Salt and The Talented Mr. Ripley.

The Quote

Oh, I certainly admire people who do things.

Jimmy Stewart’s Brown Tweed Sports Coat in Vertigo

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James Stewart and Kim Novak in Vertigo (1958)

James Stewart and Kim Novak in Vertigo (1958)

Vitals

James Stewart as John “Scottie” Ferguson, former San Francisco detective

San Juan Bautista, California, Fall 1957

Film: Vertigo
Release Date: May 9, 1958
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Costume Designer: Edith Head

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

Let’s wrap up this week’s commemoration of Alfred Hitchcock’s 120th birthday with another exploration of the style in Vertigo, now considered one of the Master of Suspense’s masterpieces though it may have been overlooked during his lifetime and resulted in the end of his successful collaborations with James Stewart.

One of the movie’s most famous and shocking scenes finds detective Scottie Ferguson (James Stewart) and the woman he was hired to follow, Madeleine Elster (Kim Novak), driving together to Mission San Juan Bautista, which Scottie had identified as the location of Madeleine’s recent nightmares. After the two express their feelings for the other, Madeleine suddenly dashes up the mission’s bell tower as Scottie—impeded by his agoraphobia from pursuing her—seemingly leaps to her death.

The Spanish mission, founded in June 1797 by Fermín Lasuén of the Franciscan order, was suggested to Hitchcock as a filming location by Judy Lanini, the daughter of associate producer Herbert Coleman. Though the mission’s steeple had been demolished in a fire, Hitchcock developed his own vision of the mission’s bell tower that was executed with scale models, matte paintings, and trick photography to create an effective setting for Madeleine Elster’s death.

What’d He Wear?

Like Steve McQueen a decade later in Bullitt, James Stewart dresses for the Bay Area’s transitional season climate in a brown tweed sports coat, though Jimmy’s Scottie Ferguson approaches the look with considerably more formality with his white pinned-collar shirt and striped tie as he drives “Madeleine” (Kim Novak) south to Mission San Juan Bautista outside of Monterey.

Scottie wears a brown birdseye tweed jacket with a single-breasted, three-button front that balances Stewart’s tall, lanky frame. The sporty jacket is detailed with swelled edges on the notch lapels and the three patch pockets. The sleeves are roped at the shoulders and finished with three buttons at the cuffs. The jacket’s short single vent makes it one of only two vented jackets that he wears on screen.

VERTIGO

Scottie’s charcoal trousers provide a somber, low-contrast bottom half to the suit, but opting for a dark gray rather than brown provides enough of a visual contrast that it doesn’t look like an attempt to combine mismatched pieces into a suit.

The buttoned jacket conceals the trouser waistband and top, but roomy fit through the trousers and the consistency of Scottie’s style tells us that these likely have single reverse pleats like this others and are worn with a belt. We don’t know what color belt and Scottie’s unorthodox practice of wearing colorful belts to match his suits (consider the blue belt) widens the array of options, though it’s likely that he wears a slim burgundy belt that would coordinate with his shoes as well as his jacket. The trouser bottoms are finished with turn-ups (cuffs).

Scottie and "Madeleine" make the rounds of Mission San Juan Bautista.

Scottie and “Madeleine” make the rounds of Mission San Juan Bautista.

Scottie wears his usual burgundy wingtip oxford brogues with five lace eyes, worn with his also standard dark navy socks.

Kim Novak and James Stewart on the set of Vertigo at San Juan Bautista.

Kim Novak and James Stewart on the set of Vertigo at San Juan Bautista.

The white cotton poplin shirt is another Scottie standard with its pinned point collar, held together with a white gold or silver pin under the tie knot, front placket, breast pocket, and two-button barrel cuffs that balance Stewart’s long arms.

Scottie’s striped tie for his drive to the mission with Madeleine was also worn earlier with his brown serge suit. It is striped in multiple shades of blue, including a periwinkle, royal blue, and dark navy, all split with hairline stripes and following the “uphill” direction of British regimental ties, and it is held in place with a silver-toned tie clip.

VERTIGO

The tweed sports coat makes a brief appearance later in Vertigo during Scottie’s date with Judy, this time worn with a bright red foulard tie patterned in a crimson geometric grid with a yellow dot at the center of each grid cell. The tie is held in place with a gold tie bar just above the jacket’s buttoning point.

Scottie strolls on a sunny afternoon date with Judy.

Scottie strolls on a sunny afternoon date with Judy.

Scottie also wears a chocolate brown felt fedora during this date, suggested to be James Stewart’s personal hat that appeared in many of his movies throughout the ’50s and well into the ’70s. Discussion at the online forum The Fedora Lounge has suggested that the hat is a product of Churchill Ltd., though the forum also suggests Borsalino, Cavanagh, Dobbs Fifth Avenue, and Stetson among the possible brands that the actor preferred.

He sports his usual gold wristwatch, strapped high on his left wrist with a black leather band.

How to Get the Look

James Stewart as John "Scottie" Ferguson in Vertigo (1958)

James Stewart as John “Scottie” Ferguson in Vertigo (1958)

Unlike he’s spending a quiet evening at home (or in a sanitarium, as this scene would drive him toward), Scottie Ferguson never dresses in any less than a tailored jacket, white shirt, and tie and never more casually than this smart dark tweed sports coat and slacks.

  • Brown birdseye tweed single-breasted 3-button sport jacket with notch lapels, patch breast pocket, patch hip pockets, 3-button cuffs, and single vent
  • Charcoal wool single reverse-pleated trousers with belt loops, side pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White poplin dress shirt with long point collar, front placket, breast pocket, and 2-button rounded cuffs
    • White gold collar pin
  • Blue “uphill” multi-striped tie
    • Silver tie clip
  • Burgundy slim leather belt with rectangular single-prong buckle
  • Burgundy cordovan leather 5-eyelet wingtip oxford brogues
  • Dark navy socks
  • Gold wristwatch with round case, black-ringed white dial, and black leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

I won’t lose you.

Sidney Poitier’s Navy Jacket in To Sir, with Love

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Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray in To Sir, with Love (1967)

Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray in To Sir, with Love (1967)

Vitals

Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray, novice high school teacher

London, June 1966

Film: To Sir, with Love
Release Date: June 14, 1967
Director: James Clavell
Wardrobe Supervisor: John Wilson Apperson

Background

As many students are returning back to school at the end of August, BAMF Style takes a look at Sidney Poitier’s scholarly style as the patient teacher in To Sir, with Love, based on E.R. Braithwaite’s autobiographical novel from 1959. The film was produced, directed, and adapted for the screen by James Clavell, the prolific writer whose works include “the Asian Saga” (including Shōgun) and the screenplay for The Great Escape.

Sidney Poitier stars as Mark Thackeray, the determined teacher who takes his first appointment (or “job,” as he is politely corrected) instructing a senior class of troubled—and often troubling—high school students at the North Quay Secondary School in London’s East End just a few weeks before the students were scheduled to graduate.

“I can’t guide you, but don’t take any nonsense from these little tykes,” encourages his friendly fellow teacher “Clinty” Clintridge (Patricia Routledge). “They’re good kids, Mark… most of them. If you don’t solve ’em, they’ll break you and damn quickly.” “That’s been tried… by experts,” Mark assures her. “They’re very expert,” Clinty half-jokingly responds.

Another colleague, the fellow newbie Gillian Blanchard (Suzy Kendall), asks Mark why he took up teaching in the first place, to which he laughs: “Oh, it’s good to have some kind of job!”

While he’s still circling classified ads for engineering positions, the former communications engineer with British Guiana tries to find some inspiration to teach within himself, despite naysayers like the cheeky and cynical Theo Weston (Geoffrey Bayldon), a longtime veteran of North Quay who had long given up on trying to get through to the kids.

Mark’s patience is further tested through a series of immature pranks such as a loosened desk leg and a sheet of ice dropped from a window above him, but the disciplined Mark remains patient… until the prank of a used sanitary pad burning in his classroom stove pushes him over the edge. After losing his temper (“the one thing I swore I would never, never do”), Mark resolves to treat the students as adults, ceremoniously throwing their books into the trash and eschewing the prescribed curriculum in favor of reasonable discussions “about life, survival, love, death, sex, marriage, rebellion…”

The class’s lessons from “Sir” range from practical advice and in-class discussion to museum field trips and even learning how to make salad, steadily gaining him the respect of even the most obstinate and uninspired of his students as he guides them into shaping themselves into mature adults with a chance to succeed.

What’d He Wear?

North Quay has no uniforms for its students or teachers, but Mark Thackeray dresses for each day in the class room in a navy sports coat, white OCBD shirt, striped repp tie, and gray flannel slacks that, while a timeless trad ensemble in its own right, could also be argued as the grown-up version of the classic school uniform.

"It's encouraging that you have a sense of humor. It seems you know so little and are so easily amused, I can look forward to a very happy time," Mark quickly observes of his class.

“It’s encouraging that you have a sense of humor. It seems you know so little and are so easily amused, I can look forward to a very happy time,” Mark quickly observes of his class.

Mark’s  single-breasted jacket appears to be made from navy blue softly napped doeskin wool, a popular and classic cloth for blazers, though the softness and sheen in some shots suggests cashmere. The short fit is contemporary to the mid-to-late 1960s, and there is a long single vent. There is a patch pocket on the left breast and two patch pockets on the lower quarters.

TO SIR WITH LOVE

Despite being styled in the traditional blazer cloth and color, it wouldn’t be completely accurate to refer to Mark’s jacket as a blazer as it lacks the contrasting buttons—often metal shank buttons to reflect its naval heritage—that most visually differentiate the blazer from its cousins in the odd jacket realm. Referring to Mark’s jacket as such may lead to additional confusion in the modern world of marketing shortcuts where every tailored jacket—whether part of a suit or just an odd jacket with lapels—is referred to as a “blazer”.

Instead of metal blazer buttons, Mark’s jacket has three dark blue plastic buttons on the front and on the cuffs, though a closer look at the sleeves suggests that more than one jacket may have been worn by Sidney Poitier on screen. The sleeves alternate between having one and two buttons on the cuff, though the buttons are always placed close to the edge of each sleeve. (Click here to see Mark’s jacket with one-button cuffs rather than the two-button cuff example below.)

Note the two-button cuffs of Mark's jacket. Both buttons are placed very close to the edges of the sleeve.

Note the two-button cuffs of Mark’s jacket. Both buttons are placed very close to the edges of the sleeve.

Each day, Mark wears the same tie, patterned with slim crimson red satin stripes crossing diagonally “uphill” against a navy ground with imperfect slubbing consistent with navy shantung silk. While the pattern shares similarities to the Kings Regiment Liverpool stripe, Mark’s tie is almost certainly unaffiliated with the regiment.

TO SIR WITH LOVE

Mark wears a plain white oxford cotton shirt with a button-down collar, plain front, and squared cuffs that close with a single button. By the late 1960s, it was still a typically American practice to wear a button-down shirt with a jacket and tie in a professional setting, indicative of Mark having “spent some years in the States.” That said, Mark only wears his OCBD shirt with his navy sport jacket, opting for a white French-cuff shirt with a classic point collar when he wears his gray worsted suit on screen.

Mark takes a much-needed break and absorbs some much-needed advice on his first day in the classroom.

Mark takes a much-needed break and absorbs some much-needed advice on his first day in the classroom.

The lightweight white fabric of Mark’s OCBD shirt reveals the outline of his short-sleeved undershirt, a white cotton T-shirt with a low-opening crew neck. The undershirt is never seen on screen, though he wears a white mesh short-sleeved T-shirt with a wide boat neck with his slacks (as well as light gray sneakers) when he has to fill in as P.T. teacher after an altercation between student “Pots” Potter (Christopher Chittell) and the bullying instructor Mr. Bell (Dervis Ward).

Mark’s dark gray flannel trousers are hardly ideal for physical education, but they’re otherwise classic and a perfect complement to his navy sports coat. The trousers appear to have a flat front but are, in fact, darted to comfortably curve over Poitier’s hips without requiring pleats, which were falling out of fashion by the late 1960s. They have slanted side pockets and jetted back pockets with a single button to close the back right pocket. The fit is straight through the legs to the plain-hemmed bottoms. The trousers have three-button “Daks top” side adjusters and an extended waistband tab with a hidden hook closure.

With their darted front, extended hidden hook waistband tab, and "Daks top" three-button side adjusters, Mark's trousers resemble the suit trousers that Anthony Sinclair tailored for Sean Connery to wear four years later in his final [official] adventure as James Bond, Diamonds are Forever.

With their darted front, extended hidden hook waistband tab, and “Daks top” three-button side adjusters, Mark’s trousers resemble the suit trousers that Anthony Sinclair tailored for Sean Connery to wear four years later in his final [official] adventure as James Bond, Diamonds are Forever.

Mark wears black calf derby shoes with dark navy socks.

TO SIR WITH LOVE

When the day appears to be threatening rain, Mark dons a khaki gabardine knee-length raincoat with a short Prussian collar. He wears the coat open, though it has four widely spaced buttons made from mixed taupe plastic. Each set-in sleeve has a semi-strap that closes with a single button over the cuff. The coat also has flapped hip pockets and two short side vents.

Mark looks up at his students after finding himself the target of yet another of many pranks.

Mark looks up at his students after finding himself the target of yet another of many pranks.

To Sir, at Home

After Mark’s long and difficult first day, we observe him at home that evening, attending to his clothing his characteristically patient care as he irons his white shirt, folds over the collar, and hangs it beside his gray trousers, preparing to dress in the same to do it all over again the following day.

TO SIR WITH LOVE

For these evenings filled of laundry, sleeplessness, and studying how to teach “the slow learner,” Mark dresses for classy comfort in a blue cotton bathrobe with white piping, tied over his light blue cotton navy-piped pajamas.

Mark in much-needed repose.

Mark in much-needed repose.

How to Get the Look

Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray in To Sir, with Love (1967)

Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray in To Sir, with Love (1967)

Sidney Poiter puts a mature twist on the classic school uniform aesthetic with his scholarly ensemble of a navy jacket, striped repp tie, and gray flannel trousers in To Sir, with Love.

  • Navy doeskin wool single-breasted 3-button jacket with slim notch lapels, patch breast pocket, patch hip pockets, 1- or 2-button cuffs, and long single vent
  • White oxford cotton shirt with button-down collar, plain front, and 1-button squared barrel cuffs
  • Navy shantung silk tie with crimson red “uphill” satin stripes
  • Dark gray flannel darted-front trousers with “Daks top” three-button side adjuster tabs, extended hidden-hook waistband, slanted side pockets, jetted back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • Black calf leather derby shoes
  • Dark navy socks
  • Khaki gabardine raincoat with short Prussian collar, four-button front, set-in sleeves with single-button semi-strap cuffs, straight flapped hip pockets, and short double vents

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

Toughness is a quality of the mind, like bravery, honesty, and ambition.

The Lady Eve: Henry Fonda’s White Sports Coat

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Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve (1941)

Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve (1941)

Vitals

Henry Fonda as Charles “Hopsie” Pike, brewery heir and ophidiologist

SS Southern Queen, sailing north from South America,
August 1940

Film: The Lady Eve
Release Date: February 25, 1941
Director: Preston Sturges
Costume Designer: Edith Head
Men’s Wardrobe: Richard Bachler

Background

Last year on my girlfriend’s birthday, my commemorative BAMF Style post explored Henry Fonda’s summer-friendly formal wear in The Lady Eve, the romantic screwball comedy that I first discovered with her family. I’ve thus chosen to dive back into this classic directed by Preston Sturges (who would have turned 121 years old yesterday!) with another look at Fonda’s attire, this time a more casual ensemble as his character Charles “Hopsie” Pike romances Barbara Stanwyck at sea: “You have the darndest way of bumping a fellow down and bouncing him up again.”

Waiter: Breakfast, sir?
Hopsie: (a beat) Two Scotch and sodas with plain water. (to Jean) You take it plain, don’t ya?
Jean: Don’t you take cream and sugar in it?
Hopsie: No, I always drink it black. (realizes) Say, what am I talking about?
Waiter: How about a nice bicarbonate of soda with egg in it. It does wonders.

Context clues in the checks signed over by Jean Harrington (Barbara Stanwyck) to Fonda’s Hopsie actually indicate that these scenes on the SS Southern Queen were set exactly 79 years ago today, with Hopsie and Jean’s shared breakfast on August 29, 1940, while he receives the heartbreaking news about her and her father’s con artistry is set the next day, August 30, 1940.

What’d He Wear?

The Lady Eve‘s black-and-white cinematography leaves some obvious doubt about the exact colors that the characters wear on screen, but a stark light-colored sports coat like Hopsie wears for his afternoons at sea can be safely deduced to be either a white or a creamy off-white softly napped summer-weight flannel. The jacket’s sporty details include three patch pockets: one on each hip and one on the left breast, which he dresses with a white pocket square. The ventless jacket is single-breasted with a three-button front and four-button cuffs.

On the second morning, Hopsie adds a dash of romance to his look with a flower pinned to the left of his notch lapels, though his heart wilts before the flower does upon learning that his new romantic interest is, in fact, a con artist.

On the second morning, Hopsie adds a dash of romance to his look with a flower pinned to the left of his notch lapels, though his heart wilts before the flower does upon learning that his new romantic interest is, in fact, a con artist.

Hopsie’s jacket may look white, but its contrast with the crisp white oxford-cloth cotton shirt he wears beneath it hints that the jacket’s material is likely a creamy shade away from white. The shirt has a button-down collar and rounded, single-button barrel cuffs.

The first time that he wears this outfit, it’s accented with a fun tie patterned with Deco-style swirls against a dark ground, reflective of the love he’s found with the playful Jean.

Production photo of Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve.

Production photo of Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve.

The next morning, Hopsie dresses in the same outfit but with a more conservative tie patterned with a neat pattern of small C-shaped curves organized against a dark ground.

A heartbroken Hopsie has no time for Jean's explanations... unaware that his formalwear will ultimately be paying the price for his stubbornness.

A heartbroken Hopsie has no time for Jean’s explanations… unaware that his formalwear will ultimately be paying the price for his stubbornness.

Hopsie contrasts the brightness of his upper half with a darker pair of flannel trousers with pleats that contribute to the flatteringly full cut. The trousers are finished at the bottoms with turn-ups (cuffs) that break well above his white bucks.

Lifelong friends Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck share a smile on the set of The Lady Eve.

Lifelong friends Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck share a smile on the set of The Lady Eve.

Bucks, so named for the napped nubuck leather used to make the uppers, grew in popularity during the 1920s and 1930s for gents seeking a dressed-down summer shoe, and they swiftly found acceptance as an Ivy standard. The Handbook of Style by Esquire still lists white bucks among the top five essential shoes a man should own, placing them in the more contemporary context as “a semi-dress-up alternative to sneakers” and as “ideal partners for dark jeans and khakis.”

True bucks should be purchased from a trusted shoemaker, made from genuine napped nubuck leather—sanded on the grain side for a napped finish as opposed to the softer suede underside—and ideally soled in the distinctive “red brick” rubber that became standard. You can pick up white bucks from manufacturers like Allen Edmonds, Brooks Brothers, Florsheim, and Peter Huber.

White bucks would be a very fitting choice for the affluent and stylish Hopsie to wear for a summer day at sea, harmonizing with the bright whiteness of his jacket and shirt for a unified look. Hopsie’s bucks appear to have five-eyelet “bal-type” closed lacing and are worn with light-colored socks a few shades dimmer than his shoes.

While waiting for Jean on deck, Hopsie frequently consults his wristwatch, encased in a long rectangular case and strapped to his left wrist on a subtle dark brown leather band. The watch is very typical of men’s timepieces from the era and was likely Henry Fonda’s own.

As Hopsie enjoys a smoke at sea, we get a glimpse of the watch strapped to his left wrist.

As Hopsie enjoys a smoke at sea, we get a glimpse of the watch strapped to his left wrist.

How to Get the Look

The last weekend before Labor Day is the last opportunity for many men to wear their summer whites without subjecting themselves to snobbish commentary from sartorial elitists! Hopsie’s seaboard example in The Lady Eve balances the attractiveness of white menswear without the risky excess of an all-white suit.

Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve (1941)

Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve (1941)

  • Off-white summer-weight flannel single-breasted 3-button sport jacket with notch lapels, patch breast pocket, patch hip pockets, 4-button cuffs, and ventless back
  • White cotton shirt with button-down collar and 1-button rounded cuffs
  • Dark Deco-swirled silk tie
  • Medium-dark flannel pleated trousers with side pockets and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White nubuck leather oxford bucks with five-eyelet bal-type lacing and “red brick” rubber outsoles
  • Light-colored socks
  • Rectangular wristwatch on brown leather strap

One important consideration when wearing a white lounge jacket is to avoid looking like you’re wearing a lab coat or a waiter’s uniform. Consider an off-white shade like cream or ivory and invest in a quality material, particularly a summer-weight fabric like linen, cotton, tropical worsted, or a light silk. Polyester is a no-no, not just for this reason but also as the warm-wearing synthetic fabric defeats the purpose of wearing white in the first place.

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie!

The Quote

You ought to put handles on that skull, maybe you can grow geraniums in it!

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow: Mastroianni’s Beige Summer Suit

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Marcello Mastroianni with Sophia Loren in the third and final segment of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (Ieri, oggi, domani) (1963)

Marcello Mastroianni with Sophia Loren in the third and final segment of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (Ieri, oggi, domani) (1963)

Vitals

Marcello Mastroianni as Augusto Rusconi, bombastic Bolognese businessman and bon vivant

Rome, Summer 1963

Film: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
(Italian title: Ieri, oggi, domani)
Release Date:
 December 19, 1963
Director: Vittorio De Sica
Costume Designer: Piero Tosi

Background

“It is sometimes said that the French spend their money on their food, the English on their gardens, and the Italians on their clothes,” wrote Sir Hardy Amies for his seminal ABCs of Men’s Fashion in 1964. “Certainly the Italians give the impression of taking great pains with their appearance, especially in summer when we see most of them.”

As summer comes to a close, let’s heed Sir Hardy’s words by focusing on the warm-weather menswear worn by Marcello Mastroianni in Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow, which marked the fifth of his 13 collaborations with his frequent screen partner and real-life friend Sophia Loren, who celebrates her 85th birthday today.

Released in Italy as Ieri, oggi, domani, the three-part anthology starred the duo as three different sets of couples: poverty-stricken Neapolitan parents who continue having children to prevent her from going to prison, an adulterous fashionista who puts her husband’s prized Rolls-Royce before her relationship with her lover Renzo, and—in the final sequence—a comedy set across a few days in Rome as big-hearted prostitute Mara and her most frequent client, the privileged and neurotically frantic Augusto Rusconi.

Rusconi dotes on Mara as his “garden of loveliness” in between running errands for his powerful, demanding father, the Italian minister of labor, culminating in an immortalized striptease to Henry Weight’s “Abat-jour” as the eager Rusconi literally howls in anticipation for their long-awaited assignation.

YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW

The expert summoned by De Sica to help me was Jacques Ruet, choreographer at the legendary Crazy Horse cabaret in Paris. After a few “training” sessions, during which he taught me about the gestures, the rhythms, the moves, I was ready to do a striptease my own way.

Before doing the scene, I didn’t sleep for a week. I must not have been completely at ease the morning of the shoot, either, because I made a request of De Sica that was unusual for me. “Vittorio, listen, how about clearing the set for this scene?”

So Marcello and I were left alone, with just the cameraman and De Sica’s wife, who was often on the set. Marcello, lying on the bed completely dressed, was ready to enjoy the show. “Go, Sofi, full steam ahead!” he said with an encouraging smile. His sweet, amused attitude paved the way for me. As I disrobed to the notes of “Abat-jour,” the original soundtrack for the movie, Marcello was curled up with his chin in his hands, watching me like a greedy child. Every once in a while, he’d mop his brow with a handkerchief. When I removed my garter belt, he let out a coyote howl of love, which summed up all the happiness a human being is capable of. This touch of genius won Vittorio an Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1965.

— Sophia Loren, Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW

…though the unfortunate Rusconi’s heart—and, er, spirit—is broken when Mara remembers her vow of weeklong chastity that she promised to her elderly neighbor.

While Sophia Loren turns 85 today, next Saturday would have been the 95th birthday for Marcello Mastroianni, born September 28, 1924, in the small Italian village of Fontana Liri.

What’d He Wear?

“It would be largely academic to discuss traditional Italian styling of suits with their short jackets and tight trousers. Only the latter remain in the picture, the whole silhouette having now become Anglicized,” observed Sir Hardy Amies of Italian tailoring in the volume cited above. “We owe a further debt to the tailors of Rome and Florence for showing us how to make suits in lightweight cloths, which by skillful use of thin canvases expertly cut and sewn as linings, keep the suit uncrumpled in the hottest weather.”

In Dressing the Man, Alan Flusser expands on Sir Hardy’s praise for the Italian mastery of lighter-weight suitings, writing that “while not as sumptuous as its wool confrere, the cotton gabardine two-piece offers a soothing alternative to the typically dry, firm-feeling tropical worsted. The fine Italian cotton gabardine suit will wrinkle, but its satiny freshness and cool suppleness offer the humidified epidermis a princely measure of comfort.”

To illustrate this, we present Marcello Mastroianni as Augusto Rusconi, respondent in his bespoke summer suit made from a lightweight beige gabardine that keeps the Bolognese bon vivant looking cool and collected despite his increasingly frantic desperation. Despite Flusser lauding the comfortable cotton alternative employed by the Italians for this, “the ultimate in light-colored suit fare,” the way that Mastroianni’s cloth falls and the lack of lingering wrinkles suggests that he is, indeed, wearing a two-piece suit made of the venerated tropical worsted gabardine.

Rusconi finds a kindred spirit in Mara's cat.

Rusconi finds a kindred spirit in Mara’s cat.

The bright and colorful Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow presents Mastroianni in a marked contrast from the iconic black-and-white cinematography of his earlier works for Fellini, though La Dolce Vita (1960) and (1963) are both much-deserving of future BAMF Style treatment. Mastroianni’s fashionable characters paraded through both earlier films wearing suits by Brioni, the influential couture house credited with the mid-20th century development of Roman tailoring, which, as Andrew Craig wrote for Grailed in 2018, “drew heavily on British tailoring,” though the Italian way of life influenced the fit to develop a style “made more voluminous, body conscious, and free-flowing without losing too much of the signature Saville Row shape.”

Rusconi’s beige summer suit appears to have been tailored in the semi-structured Roman tradition that was influenced by the Brits and pioneered by Brioni, evident by the padded “Roman shoulders”, roped sleeveheads, and a lean fit that looks flattering on the 5’9″ Mastroianni, with the three-button, closely fitting jacket elongating his frame. The single-breasted suit jacket has lapels of moderate width—but large notches—that roll just slightly over the top of the three buttons. The jacket also has a welted breast pocket which Rusconi dresses with a pocket square to match his tie, straight jetted hip pockets, and long double vents.

Mara proudly introduces her favorite client to "Granny" Ferrario.

Mara proudly introduces her favorite client to “Granny” Ferrario.

The sleeves on Rusconi’s suit jacket are finished with functioning “surgeon’s cuff” buttons, so named for the apocryphal theory that they were developed after battlefield doctors without time to remove their jackets were staining their coat sleeves when treating soldiers wounded in battle, though there’s a more credible theory that links the history of working buttonholes to surgeons practicing in London looking to avoid the same issue, though working under considerably less time constraints than military doctors. (Alternatively, Alan Flusser dates the origins a few centuries earlier in Dressing the Man, suggesting that “they were employed on jacket cuffs so the wearer could unfasten his sleeve to permit his ruffled cuffs to be pushed through without wrinkling them.”)

The rakish Rusconi wears the lowest of the three buttons on each cuff undone, a practice famously continued by Daniel Craig’s James Bond on his Tom Ford suit jackets that hearkens to this era when surgeon cuffs were more a hallmark of custom tailoring. As having working buttonholes makes sleeve length alterations much more difficult, surgeon cuffs were once considered an indicator of higher quality tailoring.

The relative ease of obtaining surgeon cuffs today from even online suit manufacturers, coupled with the fact that a gent really should not be rolling up his suit jacket sleeves, makes them much more a cosmetic detail—albeit a fun one—than one reflective of quality.

Wearing his surgeon cuffs with a button undone is the perfect sartorial detail for a man like Augusto Rusconi, who would want to take any opportunity to show the world that his clothing was made just for him.

Wearing his surgeon cuffs with a button undone is the perfect sartorial detail for a man like Augusto Rusconi, who would want to take any opportunity to show the world that his clothing was made just for him.

Rusconi wears a simple and classic white cotton shirt with point collar, plain front, and squared double (French) cuffs that he wears with a set of round gold cuff links with a small ornamental stone shining from the center of each link.

As Rusconi disrobes, he seeks to help Mara get undressed as well. Note that he evidently keeps his shirt's gauntlets unbuttoned.

As Rusconi disrobes, he seeks to help Mara get undressed as well. Note that he evidently keeps his shirt’s gauntlets unbuttoned.

In the scenes where Rusconi has his jacket removed, the thin cotton of his shirt reveals the outline of his sleeveless undershirt, which also appears to be white cotton.

Production photo of Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni dancing on the set of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.

Production photo of Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni dancing on the set of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.

While Rusconi would also appropriate the Royal Artillery’s distinctive “zigzag” regimental tie pattern with his navy blazer, he wears more subdued neckwear with this beige suit. His navy silk tie is covered in a field of small, neatly arranged polka dots in yellow, purple, and fuchsia. After Rusconi abandons his tie on Mara’s bed after she abandons her striptease, she uses it like a sash to tie around the waist of her dress.

Rusconi’s pocket square was clearly made from the same silk as his tie. In recent years, having a matching tie and pocket square is often considered gauche, dangerously suggestive that its wearer picked up a $12.99 matching “silk-like” polyester tie and pocket square from Marshalls or TJ Maxx (not that I have any snobbish opposition to shopping on a budget…) Finding a tie, let alone a matching set with a pocket square, in Mastroianni’s specific multicolor-dotted navy silk would be very difficult, but there does seem to be a dominance of red dots on a navy ground, including this 100% silk set from David Van Hagen for $89.95 as well as the inescapable but ultimately more affordable woven polyester alternative, this one from HISDERN for only $9.99.

The safest bets for a pocket square is to go classic—with white linen or silk folded into the breast pocket—or the more challenging but interesting effect of selecting colors to highlight or directly oppose the tie for a sense of coordination that avoids directly matching it.

Be warned against following the otherwise fashionable Marcello's lead when matching cravat and hank, as Alan Flusser advises that "wearing a matching handkerchief and necktie is a sure sign of an unsophisticated dresser," while the Esquire editors who penned their handbook of style suggest that "match the material exactly to your tie and you'll be taken outside, a bucket will be placed over your head, and you'll be beaten with sticks." No wonder our hero looks so glum.

Be warned against following the otherwise fashionable Marcello’s lead when matching cravat and hank, as Alan Flusser advises that “wearing a matching handkerchief and necktie is a sure sign of an unsophisticated dresser,” while the Esquire editors who penned their handbook of style suggest that “match the material exactly to your tie and you’ll be taken outside, a bucket will be placed over your head, and you’ll be beaten with sticks.” No wonder our hero looks so glum.

Dancing is a dangerous activity for a gent who is wearing trousers with no belt, braces, or adjusters... suggesting that Rusconi's trousers have been perfectly tailored to fit.

Dancing is a dangerous activity for a gent who is wearing trousers with no belt, braces, or adjusters… suggesting that Rusconi’s trousers have been perfectly tailored to fit.

The matching trousers of Rusconi’s suit have double forward pleats, still a fashionable style by the early 1960s—if Sean Connery’s James Bond is any indication—with on-seam side pockets and jetted button-through back pockets. The trousers have belt loops, though Mastroianni wears no belt; like the semi-buttoned surgeon cuffs, this could be an other example of the character subtly communicating that he wears clothing made just for him as the tailored trousers are evidently in no danger of falling down when worn sans belt. I believe that he also wears these trousers with his navy blazer and zigzag-patterned tie when visiting Mara’s apartment in another scene.

The Handbook of Style by Esquire calls the brown monk-strap shoe “a true chameleon”, ideal for work and play, making it the ideal footwear for the hedonist Rusconi who, his career all but guaranteed by his powerful father, can spend most of his business time at leisure… particularly the sort of leisure that finds him kicking off his monks in Mara’s bedroom.

Rusconi’s plain-toe monks are of the single-strap variety, almost certainly made of Italian calf leather with a brass single-prong saddle buckle fastening the broad strap into place on the side of each shoe. Though double monks are also popular, single-strap monk loafers remain a popular style and can be purchased from shoemakers like Allen Edmonds, Clarks, and Florsheim in the same dark tan leather as Mastroianni wore in Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow with beige socks to match his suit trouser legs.

Rusconi makes himself at home in Mara's home. The one drawback of monk shoes is that they are harder to easily kick off than slip-on loafers or even some lace-ups... though he seems more preoccupied with what Mara isn't wearing than what he is wearing.

Rusconi makes himself at home in Mara’s home. The one drawback of monk shoes is that they are harder to easily kick off than slip-on loafers or even some lace-ups… though Rusconi seems more preoccupied with what Mara isn’t wearing than what he is wearing.

On his left wrist, Rusconi wears a gold watch with a white dial fastened to a wide black leather strap. By the next decade, both Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve—his partner during the early 1970s—were both known to be Rolex wearers, though it’s doubtful that the actor is wearing a Rolex in Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.

YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW

What to Imbibe

While the increasingly hapless Rusconi doesn’t imbibe himself, Mara insists that he pour some of her Fernet-Branca for she and “Granny” Ferrario (Tina Pica) to drink while bonding over their shared desire to encourage Mara’s young, lovestruck neighbor Umberto (Gianna Ridolfi) to return to his path to priesthood.

Developed in Milan, the bitter amaro is often enjoyed neat, as illustrated by Mara and Granny during their conversation, though it has found an increasing place in mixed drinks during the recent cocktail renaissance. Since its inception in 1845, Fernet-Branca has been noted for its unusually strong bitterness, a result of its secret ingredients that include myrrh, saffron, chamomile and gentian among its 27 herbs according to Liquor.com, which also reports that the digestif’s popularity among mixologists has led to the moniker “bartender’s handshake” being applied to a shot of Fernet.

In some cases, it may also be known as the "granny's handshake"... though that would be one tough granny!

In some cases, it may also be known as the “granny’s handshake”… though that would be one tough granny!

If you’re new to Fernet-Branca and not trying to impress a bartender, cure a hangover, or “[lift] yourself off the floor when you’ve mixed oysters and bananas” (according to a 1962 article in Suburbia Today, cited by Wayne Curtis for The Atlantic), then you can ease into enjoying this herbal liqueur by mixing up a Hanky-Panky.

Savoy bartender Ada Coleman developed the Hanky-Panky in the early 20th century for one of her customers, actor Sir Charles Hawtrey, by adding two dashes of Fernet-Branca into a concoction of half-gin, half-sweet Italian vermouth, and ice. After stirring the mixture together, it is stirred* into a chilled cocktail glass and may be garnished with an orange peel squeezed over the top to a customer who would ideally exclaim “By Jove! That is the real hanky-panky!” in the spirit of the cocktail’s original customer.

* Coley herself had evidently preferred shaking, but the Savoy has since chosen to champion stirring the drink.

How to Get the Look

Marcello Mastroianni as Augusto Rusconi in the third and final segment of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (Ieri, oggi, domani) (1963)

Marcello Mastroianni as Augusto Rusconi in the third and final segment of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (Ieri, oggi, domani) (1963)

The ever-fashionable Marcello Mastroianni portrays a Bolognese playboy making some rakish sartorial decisions such as his semi-button surgeon cuffs, matching silk tie and pocket square, and going beltless despite the loops on his trousers that add character to his timeless beige summer suit and brown monks.

  • Beige lightweight gabardine worsted Brioni-style summer suit:
    • Single-breasted 3-button suit jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight jetted hip pockets, functional 3-button “surgeon’s cuffs”, long double vents
    • Double forward-pleated trousers with belt loops, on-seam side pockets, jetted button-through back pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with point collar, plain front, and double/French cuffs
    • Round gold cuff links with small center stone
  • Navy multi-color dotted silk tie
  • Navy multi-color dotted silk pocket square
  • Brown Italian calf leather plain-toe monk-strap shoes
  • Beige socks
  • White ribbed cotton sleeveless undershirt
  • Gold square-cased wristwatch with square white dial on dark leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie. I also recommend reading Jeremy Carr’s fantastic feature, “De Sica and His Dynamic Duo Do What They Do Best”, published in Mubi in January 2017.

Versions of varying quality have been released for home video and streaming since the film fell into public domain, but consensus among reviewers seems to agree that the best version has been released by Kino Lorber Films, both on its own as well as in the Sophia Loren “Award Collection” box set that also includes Marriage Italian Style and Sunflower, two more of her 13 collaborations with co-star Marcello Mastroianni.

The Quote

When I’m in love, I sweat.

Mad Men, 1969 Style – Don Draper’s Brown Suit

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Jon Hamm as Don Draper on Mad Men (Episode 7.05: "The Runaways")

Jon Hamm as Don Draper on Mad Men (Episode 7.05: “The Runaways”)

Vitals

Jon Hamm as Don Draper, displaced ad man seeking to salvage his professional and personal lives

New York City, Spring 1969

Series: Mad Men
Episodes:
– “Time Zones” (Episode 7.01), dir. Scott Hornbacher, aired 4/13/2014
– “A Day’s Work” (Episode 7.02), dir. Michael Uppendahl, aired 4/20/2014
– “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03), dir. Christopher Manley, aired 4/27/2014
– “The Runaways” (Episode 7.05), dir. Christopher Manley, aired 5/11/2014
Creator: Matthew Weiner
Costume Designer: Janie Bryant

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

On #MadMenMonday, we turn again to Don Draper’s style for the office with a chocolate brown suit that clothed our ad man through many episodes of the show’s penultimate season, set in the early months of 1969 as he flounders in virtual unemployment after his unpredictable behavior made the one-time advertising hotshot a liability for Sterling Cooper & Partners.

Two months after his failed pitch to Hershey executives in the sixth season finale, Don is flying across the episode’s titular time zones from Los Angeles back to New York on a TWA flight that lands him next to the recently widowed Lee (Neve Campbell!), who falls asleep on his shoulder mid-flight and offers to “make [him] feel better.” Don turns down Lee’s offer in favor of returning home to coverage of Richard Nixon’s inauguration and providing pitches to Fred Rumsen (Joel Murray), who’s been reduced to freelancing after his own unpredictable behavior—drunkenly pissing himself at work—had led to his own dismissal nearly seven years earlier.

“Field Trip” (Episode 7.03) finds Don humbly returning to SC&P in spring 1969 after nearly six months out of the office… interestingly, the same duration that Roger Sterling had suggested for Freddy’s own forced leave in the second season. Despite the resentment and the tough stipulations he must accept as the terms of his re-employment, Don accepts with just one word before cutting to the end credits, scored by Jimi Hendrix’s “If 6 Was 9”:

"Okay."

“Okay.”

“Field Trip” may have been a technical turning point for Don Draper’s career, but “The Runaways” (Episode 7.05) proves what makes the character so compelling. Having gotten his mojo back after “The Monolith” (Episode 7.04) and Freddy’s concise advise to “do the work, Don,” the erstwhile creative director surprises Jim Cutler (Harry Hamlin) and Lou Avery (Allan Havey) during their secret Commander cigarettes pitch meeting at the Algonquin Hotel to try to win over Philip Morris. Cutler and Avery are quietly fuming, all but assuring Don that his recently regained tenure at the agency will be short-lived, but Don is unfazed, coolly sending the two execs off in a cab as he lights his Old Gold and ushers a taxi for himself to the opening notes of Waylon Jennings’ “Only Daddy That’ll Walk the Line”.

Few could analyze the use of this music cue better than The A.V. Club‘s stalwart reviewer, Emily VanDerWerff, who noted in her contemporary recap:

Okay, let’s work backwards. Waylon Jennings. “You Got The Only Daddy That’ll Walk The Line.” Don trying to take power from Cutler and Lou. Stephanie as a daughter figure Don never sees. Sally as the daughter he actually has whose nose is broken (except not really) but he never finds out about it. Henry as the surrogate father. Henry as the surrogate Richard Nixon. Richard Nixon.

Richard Nixon! Waylon Jennings is Richard Nixon! The rise of the Republican right largely piggybacked off the desire to see moral order and certainty arise, the desire to have “daddy” come back in and make everything right again. But that’s not how it works! You can’t just have Don Draper walk in and change the fact that everything is falling apart and the apocalypse is coming through his mere presence. Nothing can ever go back to the way it was, because that’s not how life works.

The only ad man that'll walk the line.

The only ad man that’ll walk the line.

VanDerWerff’s summary of the episode is particularly interesting, capturing the show’s prominent themes as Mad Men entered its final stretch:

We want to see Don stride into that room and convince Phillip Morris that he’s the guy who can get them what they want. We want to see him put Cutler and Lou in their places. We want to see him whistle for a taxi and have the car come right to him. More than anything, I think, we want him to get the old band together, to team up with Peggy and Pete and Joan and Roger and Bert and kick some ass, take back the company that’s supposed to be theirs. But it’s not really theirs anymore, just as the America that was unquestionably Don Draper’s in the pilot has crumbled out from under his feet, both through acts he’s undertaken himself and acts that have taken place around him. The world around Don Draper has become a different place, but he’s stayed the same. It’s not the computer that drives you mad; it’s everything the computer represents. You will be replaced. Maybe not today. Maybe not even a year from now. But you will be. And you can’t stop it. Maybe that’s the ultimate tragedy of Mad Men: The more you long for stasis, the more the universe starts readying a new version.

What’d He Wear?

Although brown is often associated with menswear trends of the late 1960s and early 1970s, Don Draper didn’t wait to incorporate brown business suits into his office attire until 1969. As early as the first season set in 1960, he was sporting a brown striped suit for important client pitches, and an autumnal brown suit made several appearances across the second season. Outdated “no brown in town” maxim from London aside, brown suits have long been accepted and welcome for business since at least the late 1930s. Thirty years later, Don seems to favor this chocolate brown suit when he’s motivated to “do the work,” per Freddy Rumsen’s maxim… or at least appear to be doing it.

When we met Don Draper in the first episode, he was “the man in the gray flannel suit,” literally clad in a businesslike gray worsted as he dominated the halls and conference rooms of Sterling Cooper, projecting the perfect image of the slick businessman. Nearly a decade later, his carefully built self-image has been all but demolished, and he’s returned to show SC&P that he intends to “do the work” rather than coasting on his reputation. The professional-looking gray suits remained in his closet as he struts into the Time & Life Building in a well-tailored chocolate brown worsted suit that reflects his new, grounded approach to work.

Fetching cab after cab outside the Algonquin at the close of "The Runaways" (Episode 7.05).

Fetching cab after cab outside the Algonquin at the close of “The Runaways” (Episode 7.05).

The single-breasted suit jacket has notch lapels of moderate width that roll over the top button for a clean 3/2-roll front. In the welted breast pocket, Don wears one of his neatly folded white linen pocket squares. The jacket also has straight flapped hip pockets, two-button cuffs, and a single vent.

Don gets a golden reception from the junior members of SC&P's creative team in "Field Trip" (Episode 7.03).

Don gets a golden reception from the junior members of SC&P’s creative team in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03).

Don’s flat front trousers follow the standard template for his suits with side pockets, two back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms with a short, clean break over his shoes. Through the trouser belt loops, he wears a narrow black leather belt with a gold-toned box-style buckle, though this etched rectangular buckle is more elegant than the dulled silver box-style buckles of his belts in earlier seasons.

Don gets down to business in his shirt sleeves, whether it's presenting himself to Jim Cutler in "Field Trip" (Episode 7.03) or battling with a fussy sliding door in "Time Zones" (Episode 7.01).

Don gets down to business in his shirt sleeves, whether it’s presenting himself to Jim Cutler in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03) or battling with a fussy sliding door in “Time Zones” (Episode 7.01).

Don is still a year away from incorporating more varied shirts into his office wardrobe, sporting white or gently off-white cotton dress shirts with semi-spread collars, front plackets, and breast pockets for many decks of Old Gold cigarettes. (Old Gold had replaced Lucky Strike as Don’s brand of choice after the tobacco brand dropped his agency during the show’s fourth season.)

Don takes a drag while waiting for his meeting with the SC&P partners in "Field Trip" (Episode 7.03).

Don takes a drag while waiting for his meeting with the SC&P partners in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03).

All of Don’s shirts for the office are finished with double (French) cuffs, which he closes with gold cuff links when wearing this chocolate brown suit. The most prominently featured set of cuff links with his suit are the squared gold links with their large black onyx center squares in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03).

Four Striped Ties

Don exclusively wears striped ties with this brown suit, all consistently patterned with stripes of at least two colors against a solid ground, crossing diagonally in the right-down-to-left “downhill” direction. By 1969, neatly patterned repp and regimental stripes were increasingly more popular than the minimalist ties Don sported earlier in the decade, setting the tone for what would be the dominant neckwear fashions of the ’70s.

When the suit makes its first appearance in “Time Zones” (Episode 7.01) for his flight back to the Big Apple, Don’s tie is block-striped in a warm brown and dark navy, with each double set of stripes separated by a narrow tan-and-gold double stripe. Don may have some U.S. Army service to his name (as well as to Dick Whitman’s name), but this particular tie shares visual similarities with the regimental stripe of the 2nd (City of London) Battalion, London Regiment (Royal Fusiliers), which consists of block stripes in ruby and dark navy separated by a thin triple stripe set in gold, white, and gold.

Tie One On:

  • Best Match! Ben Silver “2nd City of London Regiment” tie in ruby and dark navy with thin triple gold uphill stripe sets (Ben Silver, $128)
  • Ben Silver “Mogador Woven Stripe Tie” in claret brown with amber and navy uphill stripe sets (Ben Silver, $145)
  • Canali “Large Diagonal Stripe Silk Tie” in brown with ivory-on-blue uphill stripes (Neiman Marcus, $295)
  • Ermenegildo Zegna “Four-Color Stripe Silk Tie” uphill-striped in brown, blue, ivory, and navy (Neiman Marcus, $195)
  • Robert Talbott “Beltonians” regimental striped tie in brown, tan, and dark navy (O’Connell’s, $90)
  • WANDM tie in navy, brown, beige, and gray uphill block stripes (Amazon, $11.98)
"Time Zones" (Episode 7.01): Grounded regimental stripes for his flight east with Lee and a subsequent morning of work with Fred Rumsen.

“Time Zones” (Episode 7.01): Grounded regimental stripes for his flight east with Lee and a subsequent morning of work with Fred Rumsen.

“A Day’s Work” (Episode 7.02) finds Don loitering in his bachelor pad, having spent his long day doing nothing. He dresses professionally for the sole purpose of a visit from his former secretary Dawn (Teyonah Parris), who is still loyally providing him with office intel, before Dawn swiftly goes on her way and Don plops himself back down in front of the tube.

It’s the eve of Valentine’s Day, but—as reviewer Sonia Saraiya so succinctly stated in her joint review for The A.V. Club—”Don is lonely.” His maroon striped tie adds a dash of romantic red to the outfit, patterned with sets of thin taupe-and-cream stripes spaced about an inch apart against the maroon ground.

Tie One On:

  • Brooks Brothers “Wide Stripe Tie” in wine red woven silk with white and slate downhill stripes (Brooks Brothers, $89.50)
  • Canali “Men’s Alt Stripe Silk Satin Tie” in dark red with thin taupe and beige uphill stripes (Neiman Marcus, $160)
  • Poszetka “Silk Raspberry Red Regimental Tie” in dark red with gold and light blue uphill stripe sets (Poszetka, 31€)
  • Retreez microfiber polyester tie in burgundy with white-and-red uphill stripes (Amazon, $10.99)
  • The Tie Bar “Short Cut Stripe” silk/wool tie in burgundy with rust, gray, and white downhill stripes (The Tie Bar, $25)
  • Ties.com “Bann Burgundy Tie” in burgundy silk with alternating red/white and red/tan downhill stripe sets (Ties.com, $35)
  • WANDM tie in burgundy with double white uphill stripes (Amazon, $11.98)
"A Day's Work" (Episode 7.02): A burgundy regimental striped tie is worn for the sole purpose of greeting Dawn for a few minutes in his front hallway... the 1969 equivalent of putting on the top half of a suit for a video conference call.

“A Day’s Work” (Episode 7.02): A burgundy regimental striped tie is worn for the sole purpose of greeting Dawn for a few minutes in his front hallway… the 1969 equivalent of putting on the top half of a suit for a video conference call.

For the most part, Don’s striped ties with this suit are neatly striped in a repeating series like the classic regimental, college, and club ties. However, he dresses for his return to SC&P in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03) in a more abstract striped tie, patterned in a non-balanced series of mint green and orange gradient stripes against a black ground.

Tie One On:

  • Kai silk tie with green and orange multi-stripes on black ground (Amazon, $14.99)
  • Marshall Field & Company vintage 1960s polyester tie with mixed orange, brown, and black downhill stripes (Rusty Zipper, $16)
  • Secdtie microfiber jacquard woven tie with downhill gradient stripes in green, slate, and orange (Amazon, $11.99)
"Field Trip" (Episode 7.03): A gradient-striped tie that doesn't follow the rules like his regimental stripes runs counter to the stipulations Don must agree to in order to get a position back at SC&P at the episode's end.

“Field Trip” (Episode 7.03): A gradient-striped tie that doesn’t follow the rules runs counter to the stipulations Don must agree to follow in order to get a position back at SC&P at the episode’s end.

At the end of “The Runaways” (Episode 7.05), Don returns to New York from California, simultaneously energized and demoralized by his chance chat with Harry Crane (Rich Sommer) and subsequent (unrelated) ménage à trois with his wife Megan (Jessica Paré) and her friend Amy (Jenny Wade), ready to reclaim his role in the agency by crashing Cutler and Avery’s covert meeting with Philip Morris representatives to discuss the Commander cigarettes account.

For this final appearance of the chocolate brown suit, Don returns to the tried-and-true reliability of a regimental tie with thin sets of yellow and dark navy stripes against a taupe brown ground.

Tie One On:

  • Antica Seteria Comasca “Mogador – Cambridge” tie in brown melange silk/cotton with blue-and-cream uphill stripe sets (Antica Seteria Comasca, $41.99)
  • Drake’s handmade silk/cotton tie in brown with thin cream-and-green uphill stripe sets (Drake’s, £145)
  • Best Match! Eagle satin multi-stripe tie in taupe with blue, white, and navy downhill stripe sets (Belk, $29.99)
  • Edwards Garment “Narrow Stripe Tie” in gold polyester with thin navy-and-pale blue downhill stripe sets (OpenTip.com, $15.92)
  • Franco Bassi “Melange Stripe Tie” in brown silk with navy and beige uphill stripe sets (Franco Bassi, 95€
  • J. Press “Classic Stripe Tie” in brown silk with light blue, white, and navy downhill stripe sets (J. Press, $79)
  • KITON “Napoli” handmade beige linen tie with blue-and-cream downhill stripe sets (Sartoriale, $97)
  • Wembley vintage 1960s light brown downhill-striped tie in brown, beige, and blue (Rusty Zipper, $10.80)
"The Runaways" (Episode 7.05): A light brown regimental striped tie as subtle and understated as Don's meeting-crashing power move.

“The Runaways” (Episode 7.05): A light brown regimental striped tie as subtle and understated as Don’s meeting-crashing power move.

Completing the Look

There seems to be an enduring menswear debate that questions the most appropriate footwear for brown suits. I think the most important considerations are the suit’s color and context. For example, with a lighter brown or khaki suit worn either for work or play, I like to wear medium brown leather monks or brogues. With a warmer brown tweed suit, I like darker brown derbies or boots.

In the case of Don Draper’s rich brown suit for these seventh season episodes of Mad Men, his black leather derbies are a fine accompaniment for his workday. Where brown shoes may look too much like they’re trying to match the rest of the suit, black shoes have a decided contrast with the dark suiting and also allow for a visual balance with Jon Hamm’s dark hair (top), Don’s black belt (middle), and the shoes themselves (bottom). Black derby shoes also reinforce the professional context for which Don is wearing the suit as opposed to the more playful potential of brown or burgundy shoes.

Worn with black dress socks, Don’s black calf leather derby shoes appear to have a split-toe front and five lace eyelets. The maker of these specific shoes is unconfirmed though auction listings have confirmed both Florsheim and Peal and Co. (by Brooks Brothers) as Don’s shoemakers at various points across the series run.

Don contemplates his hard-fought return to SC&P in "Field Trip" (Episode 7.03).

Don contemplates his hard-fought return to SC&P in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03).

The professional world of 1969 was much different than ten years earlier as hats had been increasingly fallen out of fashion—encouraged by the youthful John F. Kennedy foregoing them during his administration in the early years of the 1960s, setting a presidential precedent that would rapidly be adopted by the rest of the country over the rest of the decade.

In addition to following the decorum of not wearing a hat indoors, it’s fitting that Don returns to SC&P literally hat in hand in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03), and the hat is never seen atop his head until he’s firmly entrenched back in the workplace. In “The Runaways” (Episode 7.05), he’s wearing this gray felt short-brimmed trilby as he’s lording over Jim Cutler, crouched in the back seat of a taxi that Don summoned for him after crashing the Commander cigarettes meeting. The hat has a pinched crown and narrow black ribbed grosgrain silk band with a feather in the left side.

"You think this is gonna save you, don't you?" Cutler barks. Look at that face, Cutler. He's already saved.

“You think this is gonna save you, don’t you?” Cutler barks. Look at that face, Cutler. He’s already saved.

To combat the spring chill as well as the chilly reception he encounters at SC&P, Don wears his usual raglan-sleeve balmacaan raincoat, though it’s a newer one than the coat from earlier seasons that had a slimmer collar and a degree of shimmer. This khaki gabardine coat has a wide bal-type collar, slanted hand pockets with wide welts, and a long single vent. The front has a covered fly for the five khaki sew-through plastic buttons.

"Here I am," Don greets Roger's secretary Caroline (Beth Hall) upon his return in "Field Trip" (Episode 7.03) He would later echo the same words and open-armed gesture, albeit with considerable more defiance, when running into Jim Cutler in the same episode.

“Here I am,” Don greets Roger’s secretary Caroline (Beth Hall) upon his return in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03) He would later echo the same words and open-armed gesture, albeit with considerable more defiance, when running into Jim Cutler in the same episode.

After the first four seasons found him cycling through two Jaeger-LeCoultres and a Rolex Explorer, Don Draper first strapped on his Omega Semaster De Ville at the top of the fifth season when he was at the top of his game on the eve of his 40th birthday, living the good life with his stylish wife and a partnership at one of the most ambitious agencies in the business.

Nearly three years later, all of that has changed for Don, but he’s still wearing the same Omega and must be reminded of that degree of success when counting down the minutes to the start of his first workday back at SC&P in “Field Trip” (Episode 7.03). This is the best look we get at the luxury watch, strapped to his left wrist on a black textured leather band with its gleaming yet subtle stainless steel case that allows the black dial—with its elegantly minimalist silver hour markers (two for 12:00,  6:00, and 9:00) and date window at 3:00—to take center stage.

It's nine o'clock sharp, and Don's still at home! Not off to a great start, Mr. Draper. (In a nod to the show's attention to detail, the date window on Don's watch indicates that it's the 31st of the month as does the calendar in Peggy's office, suggesting that the in-universe date of Don's return to work was likely Monday, March 31, 1969.)

It’s nine o’clock sharp, and Don’s still at home! Not off to a great start, Mr. Draper. (In a nod to the show’s attention to detail, the date window on Don’s watch indicates that it’s the 31st of the month as does the calendar in Peggy’s office, suggesting that the in-universe date of Don’s return to work was likely Monday, March 31, 1969.)

Don’s Omega watch was one of four screen-worn timepieces that was included in a Christie’s auction from December 2015. The listing for the Omega, which eventually sold for $11,875, described it as “Signed Omega, Automatic, Seamaster, De Ville, Ref. 166.020, Movement No. 23’943’081, Circa 1960.” Ellen Freund, Mad Men‘s property master, worked with vintage watch specialist Derek Dier to select each character’s signature watch.

How to Get the Look

Jon Hamm as Don Draper on Mad Men (Episode 7.05: "The Runaways")

Jon Hamm as Don Draper on Mad Men (Episode 7.05: “The Runaways”)

Mad Men may have established Don Draper as the archetypal man in the gray flannel suit, but he’s a master of many palettes, specifically a grounded but rich chocolate brown suit when he needs to “do the work” and regain his agency’s trust as the series built up to its finale.

  • Chocolate brown worsted wool suit:
    • Single-breasted 3/2-roll jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, 2-button cuffs, and single vent
    • Flat front trousers with belt loops, side pockets, jetted back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • White cotton dress shirt with semi-spread collar, front placket, breast pocket, and double/French cuffs
    • Ornate gold cuff links
  • Earth-toned regimental tie with “downhill” stripe direction
  • Black leather belt with etched gold rectangular box-style buckle
  • Black calf leather 5-eyelet derby shoes
  • Black cotton lisle dress socks
  • Omega Seamaster DeVille wristwatch with stainless 34mm case, textured black crocodile strap, and black dial with date indicator
  • Gray felt short-brimmed trilby with black ribbed grosgrain silk band and decorative feather
  • Khaki gabardine cotton bal-type raincoat with Prussian collar, raglan sleeves, covered 5-button fly, slanted welt hand pockets, and single vent

Note: All prices included in the post above are current as of October 2019, with prices and product availability subject to change.

Check out Iconic Alternatives’ latest post, a collaboration with Instagram’s @dondraperstyle, that breaks down some of the most essential pieces worn by the enigmatic ad man.

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the entire series, currently streaming on Netflix and available on DVD/Blu-Ray.

Enthusiasts of Don Draper’s style can also peruse GQ‘s comprehensive attempt to track all of his on-screen attire, which tallies up to 518 different suits, casual ensembles, tuxedoes, and pajama sets here: Everything Don Draper Has Ever Worn on Mad Men, though it should be noted that some of the outfits appear to be presented out of order, particularly toward the final seasons.

The Quote

Why don’t you fellas catch me up?

Gregory Peck’s Taupe “City Clothes” in The Big Country

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Gregory Peck as Jim McKay in The Big Country (1958)

Gregory Peck as Jim McKay in The Big Country (1958)

Vitals

Gregory Peck as Jim McKay, “neat, clean, and polite” former sea captain and aspiring rancher

West Texas, Summer 1886

Film: The Big Country
Release Date: August 13, 1958
Director: William Wyler
Costume Design: Emile Santiago & Yvonne Wood

Background

A couple years ago, I had received a request via Twitter from venerated BAMF Style reader Ryan to explore Gregory Peck’s “taupe city slicker suit” in The Big Country, which also happened to be the favorite movie of former U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower, born 129 years ago today on October 14, 1890. In fact, Ike was such a fan of William Wyler’s Technicolor Western that he screened the 166-minute epic on four separate occasions during his administration’s second term in the White House.

Adapted from Donald Hamilton’s serialized Ambush at Blanco CanyonThe Big Country—co-produced by Wyler and Peck—tells the story of Jim McKay, a patient sea captain traveling west to make his life on a ranch with the vivacious Patricia Terrill (Carroll Baker) and those in her orbit, including her charming friend Julie Maragon (Jean Simmons), her domineering father “the Major” (Charles Bickford), and the patriarch of the rival Hannessey clan, Rufus (Burl Ives, in an Academy Award-winning performance).

In addition to Ives’ recognition, Jerome Moross’ triumphant score was also rightly nominated for an Oscar, though it lost to Dimitri Tiomkin’s work in The Old Man and the Sea. Franz Planer’s exquisite cinematography was also snubbed, though not even nominated in its category. Moross’ and Planer’s impressive work is showcased from the get-go with the stirring opening credits that follow McKay’s coach as he approaches his destination.

“There’s Pat Terrill and her eastern dude!” exclaims the rapscallion Buck Hannassey (Chuck Connors), Rufus’ most rambunctious son, when he spots Jim and Patricia out for a ride shortly after their arrival. McKay holds firm against the gang’s abuse, coolly resisting the harassment from the roguish band of what Pat herself describes as “local trash” as he rises above the group’s pettiness with his easygoing, mild-mannered charm:

Don’t worry about it. Greenhorns always have to get knocked around a little.

What’d He Wear?

“Honestly, darling, you do look funny out here in those clothes,” remarks Patricia Terrill (Carroll Baker) of her ostensible fiance’s dress, an observance more sarcastically commented on by the rough and wild Buck Hannassey, when he asks his brothers:

Don’t it make you boys feel kinda dirty to look at such a handsome gentleman all dressed up in a fancy suit?

Based on the dialogue along, one would expect Jim McKay (Gregory Peck) to have made his journey west in a purple plaid suit and fancy brocade silk waistcoat, but alas McKay’s attire is as unassuming and dignified as the man himself. The fact that so many feel the need to comment on McKay’s subdued outfit merely illustrates how uncommon it is for these characters—and specifically, the hard-living Hannasseys—to encounter a man (or woman!) on this west Texas trail who isn’t bedecked in buckskin and flannel.

With Pat by his side, Jim makes the unwelcome acquaintance of his new neighbors.

With Pat by his side, Jim makes the unwelcome acquaintance of his new neighbors.

Gregory Peck's screen-worn jacket from The Big Country (Source: Heritage Auctions)

Gregory Peck’s screen-worn jacket from The Big Country (Source: Heritage Auctions)

A Heritage Auctions listing includes a three-button jacket described as “a brown sport coat worn by Peck in the 1958 Western” and stamped as a product of Western Costume Co., identifying the garment as a size 40R and part of a two-piece suit. A tag in the pocket bears Peck’s name and the manufacture date of July 1957.

The modern photography of the auction listing makes the jacket look much more tan than the sandy taupe color that appears on screen. As Peck’s other jackets—a similarly cut suit jacket and a reefer coat—in The Big Country are dark navy blue, we can deduce that this must be the same jacket.

McKay’s single-breasted jacket has narrow notch lapels that roll to just above the top of three buttons, a welted breast pocket that slants toward the center, straight flapped hip pockets, and two non-functioning buttons on the cuffs.

While the tailoring is consistent with the modern lounge suit jacket or sports coat, the back of the jacket is detailed for the era with seams that curve out from each sleeve and follow the back of the jacket to the bottom, flanking a long center vent. The waist line is detailed with two decorative buttons, a holdout from when the front of a riding coat was buttoned to the back.

THE BIG COUNTRY

McKay wears a white shirt with a rounded club collar, plain front, and double (French) cuffs, worn with a set of ornate gold squared cuff links filled in the center with a black amoebic stone.

The happy couple, moments before their tenuous bond would first be tested by Jim's pacifying reaction to the rougher elements of his new home.

The happy couple, moments before their tenuous bond would first be tested by Jim’s pacifying reaction to the rougher elements of his new home.

After Buck recognizes the growing connection between Jim and Julie, he exclaims in disbelief:

He sure is a dude! Is that the kind of a man you want? With a bow tie, fancy hat, and no nerve to hold a gun?

Rather than a bow tie in the modern sense, Jim’s neckwear to which Buck refers is a simple black silk tie. Among the period-inspired offerings at Historical Emporium, the most similar product is cataloged as a “floppy bow tie”… and I can hardly think of a more accurate description, though many have also referred to this narrow neckwear style as a “ribbon tie”.

THE BIG COUNTRY

Though the lack of contrast between them creates the initial effect of a two-piece suit, neither the jacket nor trousers are matching pieces, though—for purposes of shorthanded expression—I may, at times, continue to use the Hannassey’s misinformed vernacular to refer to it as such. One interesting comment about this particular era is that McKay’s decision to wear three non-matching pieces was actually considered more formal than if he wore a true three-piece suit as these “ditto suits” were only coming into fashion by the late Victorian era as less formal alternatives to frock coats worn with non-matching trousers and waistcoats.

McKay’s odd waistcoat (“odd” meaning non-matching rather than the more pejorative definition) has a subtle brown micro check on a beige ground that blends to form a warm shade of taupe that also only slightly contrasts against the jacket. The high-fastening waistcoat has six buttons that close down to the notched bottom and four welted pockets.

THE BIG COUNTRY

This is clearly what McKay considers his “go-to-town” attire, as he again wears it after Pat sends him back to live in town. For this return trip, he wears the jacket and trousers sans waistcoat, revealing the waistband of the slightly darker taupe trousers. McKay wears these high-rise trousers with suspenders with brown leather hooks that connect to buttons along the inside of his trouser waistband, proving that they’re not the same taupe trousers that he wears for day-to-day life on the ranch as those have belt loops.

McKay’s flat front trousers have slanted front pockets and plain-hemmed bottoms that are worn on the outside of his boots.

McKay returns to town in his taupe city suit sans waistcoat, revealing the previously unseen trouser waistband and suspenders.

McKay returns to town in his taupe city suit sans waistcoat, revealing the previously unseen trouser waistband and suspenders.

When dressed in this manner, McKay wears brown leather boots with the shafts covered by his trousers. Only when co-starring with the 6’3″ Charlton Heston and the 6’5″ Chuck Connors would Gregory Peck—also 6’3″—need to be considered about his height, and it’s reported that he wore lifts in the movie that at least gave him the edge over Heston.

McKay takes in the sights and sounds of his new hometown.

McKay takes in the sights and sounds of his new hometown.

Remember that “fancy hat” Buck had maligned? McKay the erstwhile naval captain had found himself somewhat out to sea initially in the wild west, his taupe felt derby hat with its brown ribbed grosgrain silk band and edges establishing him as an outsider as he alights from the Southwest Overland stage in the opening scene.

“I don’t know if I’d wear that hat too long around here, Mr. McKay,” advises Steve Leech (Charlton Heston). “One of these wild cowboys might take it into his head to shoot it off ya.”

Sure enough, as soon as Jim and Pat encounter the Hannassey boys on the road, Buck tosses the derby up into the air for his brothers to shoot a few single-action holes through. “Not very good shots, are they?” a relieved Jim asks upon retrieving his undamaged hat after the fracas.

McKay regards his controversial derby hat.

McKay regards his controversial derby hat.

What Americans call the derby hat originated in England when hatmakers Thomas and William Bowler introduced their latest product, which would become colloquially known as the “bowler hat”, in 1849. The versatile hat with its low, round crown and upturned brim gained a quick reputation for durability and crossed the pond within a decade, where it obtained its “derby” moniker either through association with the Earl of Derby or dapper yet deadly outlaw Marion “the Derby Kid” Hedgepeth.

Hedgepeth—who would later gain notoriety for providing information that would lead to the arrest of serial killer H.H. Holmes—was far from the only outlaw who terrorized the wild west with a derby atop his head, as their ubiquity among old west figures including (but hardly limited to) Bat Masterson, Butch Cassidy, and Billy the Kid led to journalist Lucius Beebe describing the derby as “the hat that won the West”.

Thus, it’s surprising that McKay’s hat receives such a cool reception by thugs like the Hannasseys who would surely respect the violent exploits of criminal contemporaries like Butch and Billy. Perhaps their attitudes were more a reflection of the late 1950s, by which time the derby would have been rendered obsolete or old-fashioned, relegated to the heads of dandies or stodgy British businessmen while the wide-brimmed Stetson had emerged perhaps unfairly victorious in contemporary pop culture depictions of the American West.

How to Get the Look

Gregory Peck as Jim McKay in The Big Country (1958)

Gregory Peck as Jim McKay in The Big Country (1958)

Most of The Big Country‘s characters make a big deal about Jim McKay’s attire which, aside from a few period-influenced details, could easily be updated for the modern era with a more contemporary lounge suit and tie.

  • Sandy taupe gabardine Victorian era single-breasted 3-button lounge jacket with notch lapels, slanted welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, non-functioning 2-button cuffs, tailed back with single vent and 2 decorative buttons
  • Taupe flat front high-rise trousers with slanted front pockets, no back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • White cotton shirt with rounded club collar and double/French cuffs
    • Ornate gold square cuff links with black-filled amoebic centers
  • Black silk ribbon tie
  • Suspenders with brown leather hooks
  • Brown leather boots
  • Taupe felt derby hat with brown ribbed grosgrain silk band and edges

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

There are some things that a man has to prove to himself alone, not to anyone else.


Rod Taylor in The V.I.P.s.

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Rod Taylor and Maggie Smith in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Rod Taylor and Maggie Smith in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Vitals

Rod Taylor as Les Mangrum, gregarious Australian tractor manufacturing mogul

Heathrow Airport, London, Winter 1963

Film: The V.I.P.s
(also released as Hotel International)
Release Date: September 19, 1963
Director: Anthony Asquith
Costume Designer: Pierre Cardin (uncredited)

Background

A generation after Grand Hotel (1932) established the subgenre of the ensemble drama with a packed cast of international stars, Anthony Asquith updated the pattern for the jet age with the genteel director’s penultimate film, The V.I.P.s, which—appropriately enough, given its spiritual predecessor—had also been released as Hotel International. While the central narrative and marketing focused on the exaggerated melodrama of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton’s on-screen romance, bolstered by the two’s tempestuous off-screen affair, I took the greatest delight in following the subplot of gregarious Australian businessman Les Mangrum (Rod Taylor) and his lovestruck secretary, Miss Mead (Maggie Smith), an opinion shared by Sam Kashner in his July 2003 article for Vanity Fair:

Oddly, their love affair—with Mangrum unaware of Miss Mead’s love for him— is more touching than the Sturm and Drang of the Taylor-Burton relationship. The intensity of Rod and Maggie’s on-screen relationship led several people who worked on the film to conclude that they were really falling in love.

Stranded at London’s Heathrow Airport and the neighboring Hotel International, Les is too focused on his immediate concern of returning to New York and saving his business to notice the blooming affections of the devoted and dutiful Miss Mead, all the while providing a refreshingly grounded counter to the haughtiness of his fellow V.IP.s. Rod Taylor and Maggie Smith would rekindle their charming chemistry two years later in Young Cassidy (1965).

“Puffin” Asquith and screenwriter Terence Rattigan gave Rod Taylor considerable leeway to ad-lib his mannerisms and speech to ensure authenticity but, though the actor originally hailed from New South Wales, he explained to the press the following year that it took remarkable concentration for him to revert to an Aussie accent. Decades later, Taylor recalled one of his more unrestrained moments when speaking to Kashner for his Vanity Fair retrospective:

In the end Mangrum is so ecstatic when Miss Mead finds a way to save him that he bounces on the furniture in pure joy, and he doesn’t even notice when his glamorous girlfriend leaves the room. “I didn’t do it consciously,” Rod recalls. “It was the energy of the guy. But whatever I did, little Puffin allowed me to do it. And, in an English movie, with that kind of elegance and whatnot, for me to blow up like a fuckin’ hyena was a relief.”

What’d He Wear?

The V.I.P.s is set in January—a summer month for Australians—though Les Mangrum is no stranger to appropriately layering for the wintry London climate, arriving at Heathrow Airport in a warm shearling coat and trilby over his checked sport jacket, odd waistcoat, and knitted tie. Consistent with his “salt of the earth” personality, Les is dressed from head to heels in earth tones.

Les Mangrum’s top layer is a shearling car coat, the ideal choice for his more rugged, adventurous character especially when compared to the elegant⁠—and somewhat pompous⁠—Paul Andros (Richard Burton) in his Astrakhan-collared Chesterfield or the romantic Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan) in his camel raglan-sleeve coat.

Shearling sheepskin outerwear can trace its origins back to the Stone Age, though shearling fashions as we know them today grew in popularity over the early decades of the 20th century with the rise of aviation as pilots sought a warm outer layer to combat declining temperatures. Developed in 1934, the shearling sheepskin B-3 flight jacket became essential for the comfort and survival of the American flight crews who spent hours in the unpressurized B-17 and B-24 cabins during World War II while British pilots simultaneously came to rely on their sheepskin Irvin flying jackets. The process of tanning, processing, and dying the skin of a shearling lamb with the wool still intact resulted in a soft, warm product with one suede-like leather “outside” and a woolly opposing “inside”.

While the Boeing 707-436 in BOAC livery featured in The V.I.P.s would have pressurized cabins to keep its occupants far warmer than WWII flight crews, Les Mangrum's shearling coat is still a smart choice for keeping out the winter chill.

While the Boeing 707-436 in BOAC livery featured in The V.I.P.s would have pressurized cabins to keep its occupants far warmer than WWII flight crews, Les Mangrum’s shearling coat is still a smart choice for keeping out the winter chill.

Les Mangrum wears a thigh-length shearling jacket over his sport jacket like a topcoat, tinted in the classic copper brown associated with sheepskin with a natural beige fleece-like soft wool that lines the entire inside of the jacket as well as the collar, revers, and cuffs. Styled in the manner of an oversized pea jacket, Mangrum’s coat has an eight-button, double-breasted front with two parallel columns of four buttons each from the neck down to the waist line, with each buttonhole reinforced with rectangular pieces that fold over each buttonhole onto the pile-side lining. There is a slanted hand pocket on each hip.

Shearling sheepskin coats like Mangrum’s are difficult to track down, with the prevailing sheepskin style being modeled after classic flying jackets like the Irvin that Tom Hardy wore in Dunkirk (2017) as an RAF pilot during World War II. That said, there are several great options available from Sickafus Sheepskins in addition to the pea coat-inspired outerwear currently offered by Caine and cwmalls, though you should be advised that genuine sheepskin will set you back several hundred dollars, if not over a thousand.

Only briefly seen, Les tops his outfit with a dark olive brown felt trilby not unlike the hat that Sean Connery was wearing at the same time across his first four James Bond films, discussed here at The Suits of James Bond. Les’ trilby has a pinched crown, a deeply dented crown, and a short brim, detailed with a narrow grosgrain silk ribbon in the same dark olive brown shade as the rest of the hat.

The V.I.P.s

The pattern of Les’ wool sports coat is a small-scale houndstooth check known as “puppy tooth” in an alternating dark brown and beige pied-de-poule broken check, overlaid with a rust-colored windowpane overcheck.

Les settles into his comfortable seat at the V.I.P. lounge.

Les settles into his comfortable seat at the V.I.P. lounge.

Les’ single-breasted sport jacket has notch lapels that gently roll over the top of the three closely spaced buttons. The jacket has a welted breast pocket, flapped hip pockets that slant backwards, and a flapped ticket pocket that is placed well above the right-side hip pocket but is positioned on a parallel slant. Though many details are consistent with the classic hacking jacket, Les’ sports coat has long double vents rather than the more equestrian single vent. There are three “kissing” buttons on each cuff.

The V.I.P.s

Les wears a white cotton shirt with a semi-spread collar and double (French) cuffs that he secures with gold cuff links.

Contemporary lobby card for The V.I.P.s (1963) featuring Linda Christian and Rod Taylor.

Contemporary lobby card for The V.I.P.s (1963) featuring Linda Christian and Rod Taylor.

The brown knitted silk tie that Les wears with this outfit harmonizes well with its earthy tones, rustic textures, and relative informality. Knitted ties seem to be undergoing a resurgence in popularity at the moment, so you can test out if the look is right for you with this inexpensive “army green” knitted polyester tie by FASINUO (Amazon, $9) or graduate to a knitted silk tie like these flat-bottomed cravats:

Tie One On:

  • Benchmark dark brown knitted silk tie, 2.5″ wide (Amazon, $24.95)
  • Drake’s “chocolate” knitted silk tie, 2.5″ wide (Drake’s, £125)
  • Howard Yount “camo green” knitted silk tie, 2.5″ wide (Howard Yount, $45)
  • Michelsons of London brown knitted silk tie, 3″ wide (Amazon, $36.95)
  • The Tie Bar “chocolate” knitted silk tie, 2″ wide (The Tie Bar, $25)
  • Viccels brown knitted silk tie (Viccels, $19.78)

The V.I.P.s

Les wears an ivory odd waistcoat (or “vest”, to us Americans) with a five-button closure, though he correctly leaves the lowest button undone over the wide notch bottom. A unique detail of Les’ waistcoat are the flaps over the two set-in hip pockets.

Les finds himself torn between two women, his secretary Miss Mead (Maggie Smith) and his glamorous girlfriend Miriam Marshall (Linda Christian).

Les finds himself torn between two women, his secretary Miss Mead (Maggie Smith) and his glamorous girlfriend Miriam Marshall (Linda Christian).

An adjustable strap crosses the bottom of the back, which is lined in a fawn-colored satin that nearly matches his trousers. These pleated trousers have belt loops—though Les wears them sans belt—as well as slanted side pockets and jetted back pockets with a button-through closure on the left.

The V.I.P.s

The well-traveled black hard leather outsoles of Les’ shoes get more screen time than the dark brown leather uppers as Les kicks back make himself at home in the V.I.P. lounge, letting the plain-hemmed bottoms of his trousers fall back to reveal his black hosiery.

Les enjoys that V.I.P. lifestyle.

Les enjoys that V.I.P. lifestyle.

Via what are likely continuity errors over the course of the production show Les wearing two different wristwatches. The first, which we see as he works the phones in the V.I.P. lounge, is stainless steel with a steel bracelet. By the time he has checked into the Hotel International, his left wrist is now dressed with a gold watch on a gleaming black leather strap.

At left, Les appears to be wearing a wristwatch on a steel bracelet while, later—at right—Les sports a gold watch on a black leather band.

At left, Les appears to be wearing a wristwatch on a steel bracelet while, later—at right—Les sports a gold watch on a black leather band.

What to Imbibe

According to Sam Kashner’s Vanity Fair article:

Alcohol was the jet fuel that propelled the making of The V.I.P.s. “Everybody was extremely thirsty on the set,” Rod Taylor recalls. “It wasn’t like going to Hollywood lunches and having iced tea. I mean, the bar inside the studio was constantly packed. You definitely did not get through lunch without a bottle of wine…. And, of course, Dickie [Burton] would say, ‘Have a tot of brandy,’ and this would be 10:30 in the morning. Which seemed perfectly normal to everybody.”

Les Magnum does not necessarily keep up with Taylor and the rest of the film’s cast behind the scenes, but the garrulous businessman imbibes in plenty during his extended stay in London, from a bottle of White Horse Scotch whisky in his hotel room to a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne that he splits with Miss Mead over dinner.

Les: Well, let’s have another go at this.
Miss Mead: Well, I’ll be squiffy!
Les: Marvelous! That, I should like to see, Miss Mead. Just once. What am I talking about, “just once”? If I don’t see it tonight, I don’t suppose I ever will.

The V.I.P.s

Fans of the film were also encouraged to embrace booze, as a contemporary contest at the time of the release promised to reward one lucky “V.I.P.” with a robust personalized bar that included 12 bottles of Booth’s High & Dry gin and three bottles of dry vermouth.

How to Get the Look

Rod Taylor as Les Mangrum in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Rod Taylor as Les Mangrum in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Les Mangram typifies the successful businessman who hasn’t forgotten his rustic roots or his salt-of-the-earth personality, dressed in rustic tones and textures with his layered shearling coat, houndstooth wool sport jacket, odd waistcoat, and knitted tie for a wintry day of jet age travel.

  • Brown-and-beige “puppytooth” check (with rust windowpane overcheck) wool single-breasted 3-button sport jacket with welted breast pocket, slanted flapped hip pockets with flapped ticket pocket, 3-button “kissing” cuffs, and long double vents
  • White cotton shirt with semi-spread collar and double/French cuffs
    • Gold cuff links
  • Olive brown knitted silk tie
  • Ivory wool 5-button waistcoat with two flapped set-in hip pockets, notched bottom, fawn satin lining, and adjustable back strap
  • Fawn pleated trousers with belt loops, slanted side pockets, jetted back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • Dark brown leather lace-up shoes
  • Black cotton lisle socks
  • Copper brown shearling sheepskin thigh-length 8×4-button double-breasted coat with wide collar and revers, slanted side pockets, and cuffs
  • Dark olive brown trilby with narrow grosgrain silk band
  • Gold wristwatch on black leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

A hundred years ago, top people were top people because they were born top people, but you know something, love? A hundred years from now, top people will be top people because they deserve to be.

Alain Delon in Le Samouraï

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Alain Delon as Jef Costello in Le Samouraï (The Samurai) (1967)

Alain Delon as Jef Costello in Le Samouraï (The Samurai) (1967)

Vitals

Alain Delon as Jef Costello, slick, taciturn, and meticulous contract killer

Paris, April 1967

Film: The Samurai
(French title: Le Samouraï)
Release Date: October 25, 1967
Director: Jean-Pierre Melville

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

On Alain Delon’s 84th birthday, let’s explore Le Samouraï, arguably one of the best, most influential, and most stylish roles of Delon’s career and the frequent subject of requests from BAMF Style readers like Marcus and Mohammed.

Despite being Jean-Pierre Melville’s tribute to 1940s noir, Le Samouraï was also the maverick director’s first color production as he had evidently elected not to film in black-and-white. The color photography allows Melville to make the most of his shadowy settings from Jef Costello’s gray, barren apartment to the throwback glamour of the Parisian nightclub.

Delon stars as Jef Costello, a cold contract killer whose solitary lifestyle nods to Japanese lone warrior mythology—hence the title—and whose personal style co-opts the classic American noir anti-hero. Melville had written the script and developed the character specifically for Delon, stripping away the persona that the actor had cultivated over the previous decade as a charming if mischievous romantic who—even as a criminal—could win over the audience with a knowing smirk or grin.

The collaboration between Melville and Delon was a match made in cinematic heaven, evident from the day that Melville brought his script for Delon to read in person. After Melville shared the title with Delon, the actor escorted the director back to his bedroom, populated solely by a leather couch and a samurai blade on the wall: Melville had found his perfect Jef Costello. The result, which has influenced directors from the Coens and Scorsese to Tarantino and John Woo, is a spare yet stylish neo-noir that rightly maintains its 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. To learn more, I invite you to read James Roberts’ excellent 2017 essay for Glide magazine, which discusses Le Samouraï with far more eloquence than I could muster.

"There is no greater solitude than that of the samurai unless it is that of the tiger in the jungle... Perhaps..." — Bushido (Book of the Samurai)

“There is no greater solitude than that of the samurai unless it is that of the tiger in the jungle… Perhaps…”
— Bushido (Book of the Samurai)

The film begins on Saturday, April 4*, with Jef Costello fully dressed, laying prone on the bed in his sparse flat, chain-smoking Gitanes as his caged bird serenades him. At 6 p.m., he rises, meticulously dons his trench coat and fedora, and leaves the apartment. After stealing a Citroën sedan, he drives to a wordless exchange with his underworld contact (André Salgues), who gives Jef new license plates, forged identity papers, and a .38-caliber revolver. Jef’s next stop is to the apartment of glamorous prostitute Jane Lagrange (Nathalie Delon) to establish his alibi for the following hours before finally making his way to Martey’s, the nightclub that would be the setting of his first on-screen murder. Jef sneaks down into the club’s basement and into the manager’s office, where he confronts Martey himself.

Martey: Who are you?
Jef: It doesn’t matter.
Martey: What do you want?
Jef: To kill you.

Martey reaches for his own revolver, but there’s no outdrawing Jef, who kills the nightclub owner with three shots. Once the relatively clean hit is complete, Jef disposes of his gloves, gun, and stolen car before meeting up again with his underworld cronies for a smoky 2 a.m. card game. A police dragnet rounding up all the usual suspects includes Jef, who finds himself in a room with dozens of other men dressed in raincoats and hats per the description given by Valérie (Cathy Rosier), the attractive pianist with whom Jef locked eyes after leaving Martey’s office. Magically, most of the eyewitnesses fail to identify him (with one even misremembering the killer to have a mustache), and his pre-arranged alibi with Jane is the final piece of the puzzle that leads to Jef’s release from custody…but the police superintendent (François Périer) remains suspicious of the laconic young man, and the game is afoot!

Jef easily loses the police tail, but an additional complication arises when he meets a representative of his client on an overpass near the elevated rail station. “It’s done,” Jef informs him, but there’s still more to be done in the eyes of the client, who attempts to tie off loose ends by double-crossing Jef and shooting him. Jef overpowers the gunman, who escapes, but not until after getting a shot off that tears into Jef’s left arm… tearing a hole into the sleeve of his trench coat and penetrating the hitman’s protective armor.

What’d He Wear?

The killer is described as tall, young, wearing a raincoat and hat.

Despite being more than a half-century old, fashion writers still take the time the explore Le Samouraï‘s killer style every few years: Sarah Maher for Refinery29 in 2008, Calum Marsh for Esquire in 2013, Style in Film in 2015, and Jonathan Heaf for British GQ last year. Now, after several requests from BAMF Style readers, it’s my turn to take a comprehensive look at Jef Costello’s trench coat and fedora, updated by Alain Delon a generation after Humphrey Bogart had established it as a staple of the “noir hero” uniform in movies like Casablanca, The Big Sleep, and Sirocco.

Of all the gin joints...

Of all the gin joints…

The trench coat is one of the most enduring and iconic pieces of men’s outerwear, tracing its unquestionably British origins back to the middle of the 19th century where Aquascutum and Burberry continue to battle for credit of the initial creation. John Emary of Aquascutum (Latin for “water shield”) developed a groundbreaking water-resistant wool ankle-length coat in the 1850s that the company cites as the precursor what we call the trench coat, though it wasn’t until 1879 that Aquascutum’s competitor Thomas Burberry invented the innovative gabardine fabric that would make the garment so effective against the elements and was meant to replace the stinky rubber that was used to construct most raincoats up to that point. The War Office received Burberry’s design for an officer’s raincoat in 1901, intended to be a lighter weight alternative to the heavy regulation great coats already authorized by the British Army that blended in the functionality and wearability of the waterproof regulation cape.

What emerged as the classic “trench coat” was modernized during World War I, optimized for protecting wearers during trench warfare with oversized pockets and D-rings for accessories. An additional wartime modification was the addition of shoulder straps (epaulettes) for rank insignia, though these have remained an enduring characteristic of civilian trench coats.

Thanks to marketing shortcuts and colloquialism, the term “trench coat” is often inaccurately applied to simple raincoats or dusters, but Jef Costello’s coat is a classic trench coat in every sense, detailed with the storm flaps, shoulder straps, D-ring belted front and belted cuffs, and traditional ten-button, double-breasted front associated with the garment.

LE SAMOURAI

Costello’s coat is made from a tightly woven cotton gabardine twill in a light sandy shade of khaki, one of the most traditional colors for a trench coat. There is a storm flap (or “gun flap” as it would cover the butt of a shouldered long arm) over the right shoulder and a straight-bottomed storm flap across the back. The two external pockets are slanted and positioned just below the belt, each with a storm flap detailed with a small button at the top and bottom that can be buttoned up from the outside to protect the contents from rain.

The double-breasted front consists of ten mixed beige plastic four-hole sew-through buttons, arranged in two parallel columns of five buttons each, with two rows below the belt and three above it up to the neck, where a hook-and-eye throat latch closure can securely fasten in addition to the top row of buttons, though Costello typically leaves this undone even when he wears it closed over his chest. There is also a tab under the left side of the collar with three buttonholes that could be used to close the collar around the neck.

Costello’s coat has the traditional double-layered shoulder straps that button onto the coat at the neck. The self-belt extends around the coat’s waist line with the brass D-rings added during World War I to carry equipment like map cases, swords, and—perhaps apocryphally—hand grenades. The end of each raglan sleeve is fastened with a mini-belt that closes through a single-prong buckle. Like the belt around the waist, the belted cuffs have a brown leather-covered buckle.

Costello stands among the usual suspects in a police lineup.

Costello stands among the usual suspects in a police lineup.

Costello only wears the trench coat for the first half of the movie, hanging it up after the left sleeve is damaged by a bullet during a scuffle with the unnamed blonde gunman representing his client.

The popularity of Delon’s costuming has endured for more than a half-century and remains a popular subject of discussion regarding iconic movie menswear, though some question remains regarding who manufactured the coat. Aquascutum and Burberry have both been suggested as possible contenders due to their respective roles in the trench coat’s development, with Jonathan Heaf writing for British GQ that he leaned toward the former, citing the centralized and closer placement of the buttons.

Aquascutum and Burberry continue to be contenders in the modern trench coat game, with the closest classic examples being:

  • Aquascutum Bogart Trench Coat in a camel polyester/cotton blend (Aquascutum, $1,250)
  • Aquascutum Corby Double Breasted Trench Coat in a camel polyester/cotton blend (Aquascutum, $1,105)
  • Burberry Long Chelsea Heritage Trench Coat in honey cotton gabardine (Burberry, $1,990)
  • Burberry Long Kensington Heritage Trench Coat in honey cotton gabardine (Burberry, $1,990)
  • Burberry Westminster Heritage Trench Coat in honey cotton gabardine (Burberry, $2,190)

Some indication may come from the brief glimpse we get of the lining when Costello is asked to exchange his coat and hat with another man when Jane’s paramour, Weiner, is called in to review the lineup. Interestingly, Costello’s coat from the mid-back down is lined in a brown shadow plaid that looks to be neither the distinctive Burberry house tartan plaid or the Aquascutum brown, navy, and tan club check, though this latter check—the Club 92—was reportedly not introduced until 1967, the same year that Le Samouraï was produced and released.

If this style of plaid lining was indeed used by Aquascutum prior to the introduction of the Club 92 check in 1967, that would clearly identify them as the maker of Jef Costello's trench coat.

If this style of plaid lining was indeed used by Aquascutum prior to the introduction of the Club 92 check in 1967, that would clearly identify them as the maker of Jef Costello’s trench coat.

While every noir-esque anti-hero needs his badass longcoat, a smart fedora is equally as important. Jef Costello opts for a self-edged fedora in gray wool felt with a wide black ribbed grosgrain silk ribbon. The low crown is less pinched than the traditional fedora with more than an inch across the front separating the dent on each side.

Costello doesn't flinch in the face of death.

Costello doesn’t flinch in the face of death.

Given Alain Delon’s then-upcoming role opposite Jean-Paul Belmondo in Borsalino, it would be reasonable enough to assume that Jef Costello topped his head with a sharp gray fedora from that iconic Italian hatter; however, we get a glimpse of the gold branding on the inside of Costello’s hat when he surrenders his fedora to the hat-check clerk at Martey’s nightclub before the final scene.

Appropriately enough, there had also been an ongoing discussion at The Fedora Lounge regarding Delon’s hat, where brighter minds and better informed hat-spotting eyes than mine may be able to best deduce from the hat’s profile and gold manufacturer’s mark who crafted the distinctive hat atop Delon’s head in Le Samouraï.

Unlike his previous visits to Martey's, Costello checks his hat at the door, giving us a look at the inside.

Unlike his previous visits to Martey’s, Costello checks his hat at the door, giving us a look at the inside.

Much as he wears the trench coat and fedora associated with the American noir protagonist, Jef Costello also wears the quintessential American men’s shirt, a cotton button-down shirt.

After John E. Brooks had spotted English polo players buttoning their collars to the bodies of their shirts, Brooks Brothers introduced the button-down collar shirt to the American menswear market, where it became a respected and oft-duplicated staple of Ivy and “trad” style. Costello’s white cotton shirt has a button-down collar with an elegant roll, a breast pocket, and single-button rounded cuffs.

LE SAMOURAI

Simplicity is the key of Jef Costello’s style game, and he opts for a solid dark textured tie that can’t fail with any outfit, particularly his preferred white shirts and dark gray suits. Costello’s go-tie tie appears to be a black grenadine silk, though the harsh lights of the garage make both the tie and his second overcoat appear to be a dark, inky shade of navy blue.

You can find quality black grenadine ties for less than $100 from many reputable neckwear experts, including:

  • Aklasu ($80)
  • Beckett & Robb ($98)
  • Elizabetta ($88)
  • J. Press ($98)
  • John Henric ($69)
  • Kent Wang ($75)
  • Sam Hober ($95)
Note the blue-ish cast of Costello's coat and tie as he awaits his latest license plates and revolver.

Note the blue-ish cast of Costello’s coat and tie as he awaits his latest license plates and revolver.

Costello’s first suit, the one he wears under the trench coat, is a shark gray pick-and-pick wool, apropos his profession and reputation as a silent killer.

The single-breasted suit jacket has moderate notch lapels that roll to a two-button front, a welted breast pocket, straight jetted hip pockets, 3-button cuffs, and ventless back.

LE SAMOURAI

Costello’s single reverse-pleated trousers have a fitted waistband with a narrow tab that extends to close on one of two buttons placed to the right of the fly. The trousers have slightly slanted side pockets, button-through back pockets, and wide turn-ups (cuffs) on the bottoms.

LE SAMOURAI

With both of his suits, Costello wears black leather cap-toe oxfords with thin black silk socks.

Alerted by his bird, Costello looks for the recording device that the detectives left in his apartment. Note that these are the trousers of his darker gray suit that he wears with the charcoal Chesterfield.

Alerted by his bird, Costello looks for the recording device that the detectives left in his apartment. Note that these are the trousers of his darker gray suit that he wears with the charcoal Chesterfield.

After he returns home from the scuffle that got him shot in the arm, Costello strips off his trench coat, suit jacket, and white shirt to reveal a plain white short-sleeved undershirt. This cotton crew-neck T-shirt has ribbed sleeve ends.

A Sunday nap.

A Sunday nap.

On Sunday night, having slept away most of the day after treating his gunshot wound, Costello hangs up his damaged trench coat and changes into a charcoal wool Chesterfield-style coat that becomes his outerwear of choice for the remainder of the film.

Costello’s coat also a welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, three-button cuffs, and a single vent. We get a glimpse at the manufacturer’s label stitched above the inside breast pocket, revealing what appears to be “EDDY” stitched in light gray with red bars along the top and bottom of the label. Though this overcoat has notch lapels that lack the formal velvet collar associated with the traditional Chesterfield, the covered fly on the single-breasted front is a traditional element.

Costello's dark Chesterfield-like coat makes its debut when he returns to Martey's.

Costello’s dark Chesterfield-like coat makes its debut when he returns to Martey’s.

Costello also changes out of his shark gray suit for the second half of the film, wearing a similarly tailored and styled suit though in a dark charcoal worsted just a shade away from black, communicating his deadly business. This charcoal gray suit with its single-breasted, two-button jacket and pleated trousers is almost identical to the lighter gray suit except that the bottoms are plain-hemmed rather than cuffed.

Costello spends time in Valérie's apartment.

Costello spends time in Valérie’s apartment.

No matter which suit or coat he’s wearing, Costello always prepares for a hit by donning a pair of white cotton unlined dress gloves. It’s a darkly humorous choice when one considers the idiom “taking off the white gloves,” which means preparing to ramp up a fight; in Costello’s case, putting on white gloves mean that he’s about to carry out his deadly duties.

Costello very deliberately dons his white gloves for one last assassination.

Costello very deliberately dons his white gloves for one last assassination.

Jef Costello supplements his simple and elegant sartorial approach with a cushion-shaped Baume & Mercier wristwatch, worn on the inside of his right wrist on a black textured leather band. The round white dial has black Roman numerals.

5:51 p.m.

5:51 p.m.

In some shots, there is a plain gold ring—likely a wedding band—on the third finger of Delon’s left hand. It’s likely an oversight, though it does add an interesting suggestion to Jef Costello’s unexplored personal history.

The Copycat

The blonde gunman (Jacques Leroy) who ruins Jef’s trench coat and gray suit with a bullet through the left sleeve dresses similarly to Jef, first seen in a gray flannel suit, white shirt, and black tie not unlike Jef’s Saturday evening attire.

The next day, the gunman is waiting for Jef in his apartment, dressed in a trench coat very similar to the one that Jef famously wore through the first half of the movie, though the gunman’s coat appears to be a Burberry product as evident by the brand’s distinctive tartan plaid lining seen as Jef kicks him into his kitchen.

This unnamed blonde gunman learns the hard way that Jef Costello does not like to be copied...or shot at or threatened.

This unnamed blonde gunman learns the hard way that Jef Costello does not like to be copied…or shot at or threatened.

Are these the de facto “uniforms” of assassins in the Melville cinematic universe? Or is the blonde gunman himself trying to be more like his target?

The Gun

Despite the French production and setting, Jef Costello is armed for each assassination with a classic American police revolver, the Smith & Wesson Model 10 with a four-inch barrel. Introduced in 1899 as the “Military & Police Model”, Smith & Wesson was still producing this tried-and-true .38 Special six-shooter nearly three quarters of a century later. Other silver screen killers may have favored more modern sidearms by the 1960s, such as James Bond with his famous Walther PPK, but Costello characteristically opts for a trusty, reliable piece like his spiritual predecessors in his shadowy subgenre.

Quicker on the draw, Costello kills Martey with three shots from his .38, setting the events of the movie in motion.

Quicker on the draw, Costello kills Martey with three shots from his .38, setting the events of the movie in motion.

Costello actually uses two different Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolvers over the course of Le Samouraï, each one issued to him by the garage keeper. He uses the first one to kill Martey, disposing of it by tossing it from a bridge into the river.

Costello fires his first Smith & Wesson Model 10 at Martey.

Costello fires his first Smith & Wesson Model 10 at Martey.

While the profile of both revolvers look mostly identical, note the slight changes in the front sight and hammer to differentiate between the two props.

The first revolver (above) is likely an older model manufactured before the mid-1950s when Smith & Wesson transitioned from the rounded “half moon” front sight as seen above to the ramped front sight of the second revolver (below). The first revolver also has a straighter hammer while the second revolver has a more ergonomically friendly spurred hammer.

Framed in a shot to echo the first shooting, Costello fires his second Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolver at Olivier Rey.

Framed in a shot to echo the first shooting, Costello fires his second Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolver at Olivier Rey.

When Costello checks the load in his Smith & Wesson, we see that it’s loaded with six Gévelot rounds of .38 Special.

The significance of this shot increases when it is mirrored a few scenes later after the police superintendent checks to see if Costello's revolver was loaded.

The significance of this shot increases when it is mirrored a few scenes later after the police superintendent checks to see if Costello’s revolver was loaded.

What to Imbibe

When Jef returns to Martey’s, he requests simply “a whiskey” and is given a highball glass filled with ice and what appears to be Scotch. The bartender places a bottle of soda water next to the drink, but Jef never gets a chance to actually imbibe as the chief bartender (Robert Favart) who was in on the plan to hire him greets him with: “If you were the man wanted by the police, you could say the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.”

While one bartender pours, another warns.

While one bartender pours, another warns.

Jef Costello doesn’t seem to be much of a drinker as it is, instead stocking up on plenty of bottled Evian water and packets of Gitanes cigarettes at his home.

How to Get the Look

Alain Delon as Jef Costello in Le Samouraï (The Samurai) (1967)

Alain Delon as Jef Costello in Le Samouraï (The Samurai) (1967)

Alain Delon channels classic film noir anti-heroes with his trench coat and fedora, worn over a simple but effective gray business suit, white button-down shirt, and black grenadine tie.

  • Shark gray worsted wool suit
    • Single-breasted 2-button suit jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight jetted hip pockets, 3-button cuffs, ventless back
    • Single reverse-pleated trousers with extended waistband tab, slightly slanted side pockets, button-through back pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with button-down collar, breast pocket, and 1-button rounded cuffs
  • Black grenadine silk tie
  • Black leather cap-toe oxford shoes
  • Black silk socks
  • White crew-neck short-sleeve undershirt
  • Khaki gabardine cotton trench coat with 10-button front, epaulettes, storm flap, self-belt (with leather-covered single-prong buckle), slanted storm pockets, belted cuffs, back storm flap, and single vent
  • Dove gray wool felt fedora with wide black grosgrain silk band
  • Baume & Mercier platinum cushion-cased wristwatch with white round dial (with black Roman numeral markers) on textured black leather strap
  • Gold wedding band

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie. It would influence scores of filmmakers to come, and many elements of the plot would be adapted by Walter Hill for the great 1978 neo-noir The Driver starring Ryan O’Neal.

Can’t get enough of Delon in a trench coat? Check out Le Cercle Rouge, also directed by Melville!

The Quote

I never lose. Not really.

In a Lonely Place: Bogie’s Dark Suit and Bow Tie

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Humphrey Bogart as Dixon "Dix" Steele in In a Lonely Place (1950)

Humphrey Bogart as Dixon “Dix” Steele in In a Lonely Place (1950)

Vitals

Humphrey Bogart as Dixon “Dix” Steele, frustrated screenwriter who’s “been out of circulation too long”

Los Angeles, Summer 1949

Film: In a Lonely Place
Release Date: May 17, 1950
Director: Nicholas Ray

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

As #NoirVember continues, we shift our sartorial focus to a seminal figure in the development and enduring popularity of film noir: Humphrey Bogart. In movies like The Maltese Falcon (1941) and The Big Sleep (1946), Bogie cemented the wisecracking private eye persona often driving the heart of this subgenre, but he did not play a detective in the suspenseful thriller considered to be among his best, In a Lonely Place.

This 1950 noir co-starred Gloria Grahame and directed by Nicholas Ray, her husband at the time, though both Bogie and screenwriter Edmund North had envisioned the then-Mrs. Bogart, Lauren Bacall, to take the role of the “sultry and smooth… striking-looking girl with high cheek bones and tawny hair” as the character of Laurel Gray was described in the North’s screenplay. While Warner Brothers refused to lend Bacall to Bogart’s Santana Productions, Bogie was able to keep the leading role to deliver one of the most explosive and authentic performances of his prolific career.

Many—including Louise Brooks—have cited the introspective role of Dixon Steele as the closest that Bogart ever came to portraying himself, a charming yet insecure artist who felt isolated from much of the rest of the world and protective of the quality of his work in an industry that was increasingly less interested in the integrity of one’s craft.

“The parallels between Steele and Bogart are striking—the aloofness, the lightning-quick intelligence evident even in hack work, the flashes of humor and warmth,” wrote A.M. Sperber and Eric Lax in their biography of the actor. “All of which suggests that Dixon Steele may be the closest Bogart came to portraying his own inner turmoil, his difficulty with woman, and his often resentful dependence on an industry that rewarded lavishly and punished fearsomely.” Bogart was also known to dole out some fearsome punishment himself, particularly as the result of excessive drinking or during his tempestuous third marriage to Mayo Methot.

Lauren Bacall’s memoirs include a few incidents of Bogie’s frightening rage, often the result of excessive drinking, countered by an almost hopelessly romantic side. Though protective of both his work and his loved ones, Bogart never seemed to flex the domineering muscle that Dix Steele wielded so wantonly.

In fact, the violently possessive Dix seems to share that trait more with director Nicholas Ray, who insisted his then-wife Gloria Grahame include in her contract to work on the film that he “shall be entitled to direct, control, advise, instruct and even command my actions during the hours from 9 AM to 6 PM, every day except Sunday… I acknowledge that in every conceivable situation his will and judgment shall be considered superior to mine and shall prevail.” The insultingly draconian contract stipulations indicate just how fissured the still-fledgling Ray-Grahame marital union was at the time and, though they would briefly reconcile after secretly separating during In a Lonely Place‘s production, the two irreconcilably split when Ray discovered Grahame in bed with his 13-year-old son Tony, whom she would marry nearly a decade later.

In a Lonely Place begins as we follow Dix Steele on his way to meet friends for drinks, and the screenwriter’s simultaneously cold, cynical, and confrontational personality is established while his Mercury convertible is stopped at a red light. Beside him, a starlet from his latest film excitedly calls out to him, though Dix apologizes for not recognizing her as he makes it a point to never watch his own movies. Suddenly, the woman’s husband irrationally yells at our hero to stop “bothering” his wife, and Dix can’t help but to needle the bombastic blowhard until the man speeds away.

Upon his arrival at Paul’s, his favorite L.A. watering hole and a thinly veiled pastiche of Bogie’s usual haunt Romanoff’s, Dix isn’t even spared the criticism of children. “Don’t bother, he’s nobody,” a pigtailed girl tells a young autograph-seeker, and Dix can’t help but to agree though he still signs the boy’s autograph book with his full name… with an exclamation point!

Dix Steele and friends.

Dix Steele and friends.

Dix encounters considerably more enthusiasm inside the club, where the ingénue hat-check clerk, Mildred Atkinson (Martha Stewart… no, not that one), requests more time with the novel that Dix’s pals want him to adapt for the screen. Only halfway into his G&T, Dix’s combative nature again gets the best of him when he attacks a boastful director who mocked his washed-up old pal Charlie (Robert Warwick), a “movie idol of the roaring ’20s!”, who’s been reduced to a brandy-swiller reciting tired prose. According Sperber and Lax, Dix’s protective attitude over the old man mirrored the real-life friendship between Humphrey Bogart and Robert Warwick as the latter “had encouraged the young Bogart not to give up during a difficult period early in his stage career and helped him get parts.”

“There goes Dix again,” comments Frances Randolph (Alix Talton), the glamorous brunette in a nearby booth who has her own troubled history with the brooding writer and his dark side. The club’s owner, Paul (Steven Geray), is also no stranger to Dix’s aggression, though he asks that he try to restrict his brawling to the parking lot and to “take it easy” while he orders him some ham and eggs. Too tired and upset to read the book he’s being hired to adapt, Dix asks the bright-eyed Mildred to accompany him to his “sorta hacienda-like” home at the Beverly Patio Apartments, where she could explain the story to him. It turns out to be a fateful decision when Mildred is found murdered the next morning in Benedict Canyon… and Dix becomes the prime suspect with only his alluring new neighbor Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame) providing any shred of an alibi.

What’d He Wear?

It’s appropriate that Humphrey Bogart would bring his own distinctive style to the role to which he related so strongly, continuing his usual practice of wearing mostly his own clothing in his movies rather than the wares of a costume designer. Indeed, a few Bogie standards appear across In a Lonely Place such as the heavy twill sport jacket worn during the beach party (which the actor wore when photographed for the February 12, 1949, cover of Photoplay magazine) and a patterned sports coat that’s undoubtedly the same light gray-blue jacket he would later wear in The Barefoot Contessa.

It wasn’t just Bogart’s dressed-down sport jackets that he brought to the big screen. Approaching middle age, the actor’s roles were drifting closer to those of thoughtful observers than action heroes and with this maturation, he evolved his style from sharply striped suits and long ties to staid solid suits complemented by patterned bow ties that delivered a professorial whimsy to otherwise serious characters like the intrepid district attorney in The Enforcer, the unromantic Linus Larrabee in Sabrina, and—of course—Dixon Steele.

Dix Steele’s full-fitting dark suit seems to be reserved solely for going out for drinks, be it a boisterous celebration with friends or a quiet date. Until a suit proven to be this one appears correctly identified in an archive or auction, the true color is lost to history. The rest of the details are much clearer, starting with the single-breasted jacket. The ventless jacket is structured with wide, padded shoulders that give the lean-framed Bogart a more imposing silhouette. The notch lapels roll to a low two-button stance. He wears a white linen pocket square in the welted breast pocket, and the straight hip pockets are jetted with no flaps. Each sleeve is finished with four buttons on the cuff.

Dix Steele at the beginning of In a Lonely Place, down on his luck but not without sarcastic swagger.

Dix Steele at the beginning of In a Lonely Place, down on his luck but not without sarcastic swagger.

The trousers have forward pleats, likely a double set on each side of the fly per Bogart’s usual. Through the belt, he wears a brown leather belt that contrasts against the darker suit and closes through a curved single-prong buckle. The trousers have side pockets and are finished with turn-ups (cuffs) on the bottoms.

By the end of In a Lonely Place, Dix's paranoia and self-loathing have reduced him to a temperamental thug.

By the end of In a Lonely Place, Dix’s paranoia and self-loathing have reduced him to a temperamental thug.

One of the first things Dix does upon returning to his apartment with Mildred is to retreat into his bedroom and take off his shoes, tossing each one across the room. His dark leather oxfords appear to have a cap toe and are worn with dark socks.

We can feel the relief as Dix slips off his shoes upon getting home, unconcerned with how his guest will perceive it.

We can feel the relief as Dix slips off his shoes upon getting home, unconcerned with how his guest will perceive it.

Dix wears a plain white cotton shirt with a long point collar, plain front, breast pocket, and button cuffs. Aside from the distinctive collar with its era-specific shape and length, the details of the shirt are not unlike the standard off-the-rack offerings at any American department store, though you can be assured that considerably finer craftsmanship and fabric was used to create Bogart’s shirt.

Released just after his 50th birthday, In a Lonely Place marked the first film of Bogart’s final decade and the first of his “bow tie movies” where the actor almost exclusively wore bow-tied neckwear with his lounge suits. While patterned bow ties may carry a tame or preppy connotation these days, the esteemed Sir Hardy Amies suggested otherwise in his 1964 tome ABC of Men’s Fashion, writing that “on less genial characters, it can have an aggressive air and can arouse some kind of resentment at first meeting of a new acquaintance.”

Dix Steele makes his on-screen introduction wearing a pointed-end (or “diamond-tip”) bow tie in a dark silk twill, patterned with large white polka dots.

Classic Bogie: gold shiner gleaming from the same hand that simultaneously holds his drink and his cigarette. Never before or since has a polka-dot bow tie looked so badass.

Classic Bogie: gold shiner gleaming from the same hand that simultaneously holds his drink and his cigarette. Never before or since has a polka-dot bow tie looked so badass.

After the opening scene, Dix spends most of his screen time either casually dressed or inside, neither of which call for a hat. Thus, viewers are only graced with familiar sight of Bogie in a beautifully shaped fedora during the opening scene of him motoring his Mercury convertible to Paul’s. The dark felt hat has a sharply creased crown, a dark grosgrain band of moderate width, and grosgrain edges.

Bogart had famously worn a Borsalino fedora in Casablanca (1942) nearly a decade earlier, and the prolific Italian hatmaker recently capitalized on this association with its introduction of “The Bogart”, a classically styled fedora in a gray “Sebino” felt mixture of hare and rabbit fur, unveiled in September 2018.

Don't let the bow tie fool you... Dix Steele's road rage is nothing to trifle with!

Don’t let the bow tie fool you… Dix Steele’s road rage is nothing to trifle with!

Either unaware of uncaring of how the young Mildred will interpret his changing into loungewear for their late night discussion of Althea Bruce, Dix changes out of his suit jacket, bow tie, and oxfords and into a plaid silk shawl-collared robe and dark leather slippers, though still wearing the same white shirt and suit trousers and he had on before. “I took off my shoes and put on this robe because I like to be comfortable when I work,” he assures a suspicious Mildred.

The evening proceeds with Dix getting steadily drunker as he listens to Mildred tell Althea’s tale, though he interrupts to correct her pronunciation (“Althea”, not “Alathea”) and when she puts far too much energy into re-enacting Althea’s death by drowning as she screams “Help! Help! Help!” Her suspicions abated, Mildred begins showing a romantic interest just in time for Dix to shut her down and send her around the corner to a taxi cab stand to make her way home… which she never does, landing the last man known to see her alive—and while she was screaming for help, no less—under considerable suspicion.

Dix has no way of knowing that his acquaintance from earlier in the night had been brutally murdered by the time he answers his door at 5 a.m. to find his cop friend, Detective Sergeant “Brub” Nicolai (Frank Lovejoy), eager to bring him in for questioning. “I’ve been asleep for hours,” Dix informs him. “With your clothes on?” counters Brub, alerting Dix that this is more than just a social call.

Given that Dix does his best work when he's comfortable so he slips into a silk robe when it's time to work... wouldn't more offices be productive if they adopted a silk robe-and-slippers dress code?

Given that Dix does his best work when he’s comfortable so he slips into a silk robe when it’s time to work… wouldn’t more offices be productive if they adopted a silk robe-and-slippers dress code?

About three weeks after Mildred’s murder, Dix and Laurel are deeply in love and always by each other’s side, including a date to a swanky nightclub where “Queen of the Boogie” Hadda Brooks serenades them with Ray Noble’s 1938 ballad “I Hadn’t Anyone Till You” over highballs. Given the occasion, Dix again wears his dark lounge suit and white shirt, this time with another diamond-tip bow tie and a white boutonnière on his left lapel.

Laurel and Dix at their happiest.

Laurel and Dix at their happiest.

The third and final occasion calling for Dix’s dark suit and bow tie is his and Laurel’s engagement party at Paul’s, attended only by a few close friends like Mel, Charlie, and his ex-flame Fran, who unknowingly stirs the pot by mentioning the script that Laurel had snuck to Dix’s agent Mel Lippman (Art Smith). He wears yet another pointed-end bow tie, this one patterned in a complex mini-check resembling a small-scale shadow plaid with a dark double grid-check overlaying it.

Dix, too paranoid to enjoy either his engagement party or his natty bow tie.

Dix, too paranoid to enjoy either his engagement party or his natty bow tie.

The movie ends with an increasingly paranoid Dix nearly strangling Laurel and bringing their love affair to a screeching halt just before they get a call absolving Dix of suspicion in the murder that had been increasingly driving them apart. The original ending was far darker, culminating in Dix actually killing Laurel during their argument and swiftly arrested by Sgt. Nicolai, who had come to personally tell him that he was cleared of Mildred’s murder. This scripted ending was filmed first before Ray—who hated it—improvised the new ending. Still, some frames exist that depict a worn-looking Bogie, his bow tie undone, sitting on the bed next to what is presumably Laurel’s corpse.

This production still from the aborted murder finale was still used as promotional art and serves as the basis for the cover of the Criterion Collection's home media release.

This production still from the aborted murder finale was still used as promotional art and serves as the basis for the cover of the Criterion Collection’s home media release.

Another accessory linked to Bogart is his father’s ring, gifted to the actor upon the death of Belmont DeForest Bogart in 1934 and worn in many of his subsequent movies over the following decades. The gold ring has three square stones across the front, two rubies flanking a center diamond.

Many replica makers have tossed their hats into the proverbial ring (pun intended), offering replicas of various quality on Amazon, The Hollywood Collection, and The Hollywood Originals, though I would imagine many skilled jewelers could make a high-quality tribute ring for any Bogie-head looking to emulate this icon.

Don't do it, Dix!

Don’t do it, Dix!

Dix’s wristwatch is a chronograph with a round white dial with three registers at 3:00, 6:00, and 9:00, worn on an exotic leather strap.

Edward G. Robinson and Humphrey Bogart at Walter Huston's funeral, April 1950. (Colorized photo found on Pinterest)

Edward G. Robinson and Humphrey Bogart at Walter Huston’s funeral, April 1950. (Colorized photo found on Pinterest)

Color Suggestions

A colorized photo of Bogart and Edward G. Robinson at Walter Huston’s funeral shows the actor wearing a similar outfit of a blue-gray suit, white shirt, and navy polka-dot bow tie. I’m not sure the source or provenance of the colorization, but it provides a reasonable basis for a possible color combination for those seeking to echo what the actor may have been wearing.

As Walter Huston died in April 1950, just a few months after In a Lonely Place production wrapped, it’s possible that Bogart wore some of the same pieces to mourn his friend and fellow actor.

Another possibility is that he’s wearing the same navy blue suit that would appear in full color for a scene in The Barefoot Contessa, a movie with proven sartorial overlaps with In a Lonely Place that was only released three years later. Bogart’s Harry Dawes is only briefly seen wearing this navy suit, though the ventless, two-button jacket and double-forward pleated trousers worn with brown leather belt share unmistakable stylistic similarities to Dix’s suit.

Bogie in The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

Bogie in The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

If I had to guess… I’d say the suit in In a Lonely Place was a dark navy blue.

What to Imbibe

Dix Steele orders a Gin & Tonic when out with his pals, including “popcorn salesman” director Lloyd Barnes (Morris Ankrum) who orders a Stinger—a light drink as frothy as the movies he directs—and Dix’s mild-mannered agent Mel Lippman who orders milk to treat his ulcers.

Dix and Charlie, deep in their gin and brandy, respectively.

Dix and Charlie, deep in their gin and brandy, respectively.

Back at his apartment, Dix mixes himself another highball, presumably another G&T as we see a bottle of dry gin among the items on his bar. Mildred, who doesn’t drink, needs assurance that Dix’s motives are pure before excitedly requesting “a ginger ale with a twist of lemon… that’s known as a Horse’s Neck!”

Promotional photo of Humphrey Bogart and Martha Stewart in In a Lonely Place (1950)

Promotional photo of Humphrey Bogart and Martha Stewart in In a Lonely Place (1950)

Dix would probably prefer the Horse’s Neck “with a Kick”, described by Mr. Boston Official Bartender’s Guide as two ounces of bourbon in an ice-filled Collins glass topped off with ginger ale and a spiraled lemon rind over the rim. According to Aliza Kelly Faragher in The Mixology of Astrology, “its defining feature is the presentation: a long strip of lemon peel draped over the side of the glass to represent a horse’s neck.”

For what it’s worth, Ms. Faragher classifies the drink as one she would recommend to a Sagittarius, which was the star sign of Gloria Grahame, born November 28, 1923.

How to Get the Look

Humphrey Bogart as Dixon "Dix" Steele in In a Lonely Place (1950)

Humphrey Bogart as Dixon “Dix” Steele in In a Lonely Place (1950)

To dress like Dix Steele is to dress like Humphrey Bogart, with a simple high-contrast combination of a dark single-breasted suit and plain white shirt forming the foundation and adding character by tying on a nearly patterned bow tie. To finish the look, fold a plain white linen pocket square into your suit jacket’s breast pocket, don a personal piece of jewelry like a gold ring that’s been passed down through the family, and—perhaps most important of all—have a comfortable robe waiting for you to return home.

  • Dark navy wool suit:
    • Single-breasted 2-button jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight jetted hip pockets, 4-button cuffs, and ventless back
    • Double forward-pleated high-rise trousers with belt loops, side pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with long point collar, plain front, breast pocket, and button cuffs
  • Dark polka-dot or mini-checked bow tie
  • Brown leather belt with curved metal single-prong buckle
  • Dark leather cap-toe oxford shoes
  • Dark dress socks
  • Gold ring with two ruby stones flanking a center diamond stone
  • Chronograph watch with white triple-register dial and dark exotic leather band
  • Dark felt fedora with dark grosgrain band and edges

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie. In a Lonely Place was made exactly 70 years ago with production from October 25 through December 1, 1949.

The Quote

There’s no sacrifice too great for a chance at immortality.

The Long Goodbye: Elliott Gould as a 1970s Philip Marlowe

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Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye (1973)

Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye (1973)

Vitals

Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe, wisecracking private investigator and “born loser”

Los Angeles, Summer 1972

Film: The Long Goodbye
Release Date: March 7, 1973
Director: Robert Altman
Men’s Costume Designer: Kent James (uncredited)

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

I’m pleased to address a repeated request from BAMF Style leaders like Brandon and Craig to take a look at Elliott Gould’s scrappy attire as an equally scrappy Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye, maverick auteur Robert Altman’s adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s 1953 pulp novel of the same name.

It’s okay with me…

A generation after the golden age of noir in the 1940s and early ’50s, an unofficial cinematic revival began re-adapting hard-boiled detectives for the silver screen. Early contenders in this neo-noir subgenre include Harper (1966), starring Paul Newman as Ross Macdonald’s eponymous private eye, followed by Frank Sinatra’s back-to-back movies as Miami detective Tony Rome. The decade closed with Marlowe (1969), a refreshed look at Raymond Chandler’s arguably greatest creation, updated for the ’60s and portrayed by James Garner, ostensibly auditioning for his future role on The Rockford Files. Directed by Paul Bogart, Marlowe had been the first major cinematic adaptation featuring Chandler’s famous detective in more than 20 years, aside from a single season of an ABC series starring Philip Carey, and served to re-introduce audiences to the wisecracking investigator.

The Long Goodbye would be the first of several 1970s productions to center around Philip Marlowe. Robert Mitchum would dust off his venerable noir chops to portray the detective twice, once in the period-set thriller Farewell, My Lovely (1975) and again in a re-imagining of The Big Sleep (1978) that updated the setting to contemporary England. Before those, Mitchum had been the initial choice for executive producer Elliott Kastner when casting The Long Goodbye, though Mitchum was reluctant at the time, paving the way for Elliott Gould to reteam with M*A*S*H director Robert Altman and make the role his own. Kastner considered the eventual casting a blessing, appreciating that Gould “had a kind of dandruff on his shoulders, if you know what I mean.”

Prolific screenwriter Leigh Brackett, a co-writer of the original Bogie and Bacall version of The Big Sleep (1946), again put her deft hand to work at adapting Chandler for the screen. By retaining the Los Angeles setting so integral to Chandler’s works and Marlowe’s seedy world but updating the timeframe to the early 1970s—specifically around midsummer 1972—Brackett’s script allowed for satirical contrasts of just how much the world had changed in 20 years… and how much of an anachronistic oddball a guy like Philip Marlowe would be. Indeed, Robert Altman was so enthusiastic about highlighting this dissonance that he nicknamed Gould’s portrayal “Rip Van Marlowe”, suggesting that the character had been asleep for 20 years, waking up in a polyester-clad world of hippies, health foods, and yoga.

Production photo of Elliott Gould as "Rip Van Marlowe", awakening to the changing times.

Production photo of Elliott Gould as “Rip Van Marlowe”, awakening to the changing times.

Initial receptions to what Altman would call “a satire in melancholy” ranged from lukewarm to ice cold, forcing United Artists to reconsider how the film was being marketed. After its re-release, more positive reviews appeared from stalwart critics like Vincent Canby, Roger Ebert, and Pauline Kael, though audiences were still unsure of how to react to our anachronistic protagonist driving his 1948 Lincoln, grumbling about his lost cat, and chain-smoking unfiltered Camels through a now health-conscious California that, though branding itself as a brave new communal world, was an increasingly self-obsessed culture where “nobody cares but me,” as Marlowe observes.

“The picture almost got destroyed out here,” Gould himself recalled decades later in an interview with the BBC’s Brett Berk. “I think a lot of people didn’t know what we were doing.”

The Long Goodbye sits at all these intersections: of Altman and Chandler, of Altman and noir, of the 1950s (when the novel was written) and the 1970s, of old and (at the time) new Los Angeles. The film has many points of entry, including Elliott Gould’s eccentric, loopy, intensely likable performance as Chandler’s private eye, Philip Marlowe,” wrote Mike Hale for The New York Times in a 2014 retrospective review, which continues:

“There are so many levels on which to appreciate the film,” said the musician Gabriel Kahane, who collaborated in the programming of Sunshine Noir. “One is the rewriting of Marlowe as this kind of sharp-tongued Jewish guy.”

The series accompanies Mr. Kahane’s performances there of his new album, “The Ambassador,” a song cycle that explores the history and fantasy of Los Angeles, and he said that for him the real appeal of The Long Goodbye was the way it transformed the noir narrative for a more cynical, more ruthlessly capitalistic era. “At the center of it is the way noir means something fundamentally different in the 1970s because of our collective consciousness about how the economy has shifted,” he said. “The film is at once neo-noir and an elegy for the golden age of noir.”

Working from a screenplay by Leigh Brackett that ruthlessly distilled Chandler’s novel, Altman rendered the streamlined story — Marlowe gives a friend a ride to Tijuana, the friend is accused of killing his wife and then turns up dead himself, Marlowe sets out to prove the friend’s innocence — as a series of mostly comic set pieces. He simultaneously satirized the post-hippie self-absorption of Southern California, registered the narrow-minded brutality of the cops and gangsters, and signaled his fondness for an old Hollywood that was already history in 1973.

Mr. Gould’s Marlowe, always dressed in black suit [sic] and tie despite the blinding light and driving a hulking 1940s Lincoln, is the last honest man in this sun-kissed cesspool. He’s an avatar of the midcentury noir hero, out of step but also thoroughly up-to-date, a hipster in the original sense. He rolls with whatever the city and the times throw at him — the blissed-out women next door doing yoga in the nude; the vicious mobster who strips in a fake-sensitive display of honesty — shrugging and repeating the mantra: “It’s O.K. with me.” Until, in the end, he discovers that some things just aren’t O.K.

#Noirvember continues with a look at this unconventional entry in the private eye genre, a welcome contribution from seminal noir figures Raymond Chandler and Leigh Brackett, filtered through the characteristically subversive lens of Robert Altman, who died of complications from leukemia 13 years ago today on November 20, 2006.

What’d He Wear?

“You know, you don’t tie in. This suit, the name Philip Marlowe… what the hell are you from?” asks an aggressive interrogating detective, lampshading Marlowe’s anachronistic character in a world that’s moved on from gumshoes to groovy hippies and gas crises. Poor Marlowe—though he doesn’t seem to care one bit—is constantly out of place, whether he’s in a town full of weirdos like 1970s L.A. or heading south of the border, clad in his oppressively hot but relentlessly patriotic red, white, and blue as he searches for clues about his pal Terry Lennox’s fate.

Marlowe in Mexico.

Marlowe in Mexico.

But enough commentary… let’s get to the crux of what BAMF Style’s about. Is Marlowe wearing a suit?

In fact, no. It’s actually a mis-matched jacket and trousers that were hand-selected by Elliott Gould, according to Christopher Laverty of Clothes on Film, who identified the jacket as a slightly darker navy than the trousers as opposed to reviewer Mike Hale’s inaccurate description of Marlowe’s “black suit.” While I certainly knew that Marlowe’s jacket and trousers weren’t black, I have to admit that I hadn’t noticed the contrasting pieces, but—given Mr. Laverty’s authority on the subject—I took a closer look and indeed noticed the difference between the cloths of each respective piece, particularly under the blazing California sun during his afternoon drinking session with Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden) and, later, when chasing after Eileen Wade’s (Nina van Pallandt) retreating gold Mercedes-Benz convertible under the L.A. street lights.

THE LONG GOODBYE

It’s significant—and perhaps even poetic—that Gould’s Marlowe doesn’t even own a navy suit, considered an essential foundation for any gentleman’s wardrobe. “Rip Van Marlowe” is hardly a gentleman though, more a guy going through the motions to wear a jacket and tie because he must. And why must he? Because Raymond Chandler wrote him that way.

Marlowe’s navy blue single-breasted jacket is made from soft-napped flannel with a high-fastening three-button front that balances Gould’s lanky 6’2″ frame. The somewhat ill-fitting jacket has substantial notch lapels, stitched less than a half-inch from the edges for a sporty “swelled” effect that was a popular detail of 1970s menswear.

The jacket has a welted breast pocket and straight hip pockets with rumpled flaps that tend to stick out from the sides like wings. The sleeves are finished with three spaced buttons on each cuff, and the back is split with a long single vent. Eagle-eyed experts may be able to recognize the maker of Marlowe’s jacket when the white label is briefly seen on the inside of the right breast when he slides the jacket off in Marty Augustine’s office.

Marlowe takes a drag from one of many, many unfiltered Camels, the same brand that had been suggested by Raymond Chandler as the literary Marlowe's choice in Farewell, My Lovely and The Little Sister.

Marlowe takes a drag from one of many, many unfiltered Camels, the same brand that had been suggested by Raymond Chandler as the literary Marlowe’s choice in Farewell, My Lovely and The Little Sister.

Marlowe’s slightly lighter blue flat front trousers have a low rise without a belt, braces, or side-adjusters to suspend the trousers to a higher point on Gould’s waist. The trousers have “frogmouth”-style front pockets and two back pockets with a button through the left. The bottoms are finished with turn-ups (cuffs), a somewhat old-fashioned detail by the 1970s that suggests the garment to be a product of the previous decade.

Marlowe kicks his feet up when drinking with the gregarious guzzler Roger Wade.

Marlowe kicks his feet up when drinking with the gregarious guzzler Roger Wade.

“This is my good shirt,” Marlowe protests when a grumpy LAPD officer tells him to wipe his fingerprinting ink on it. Indeed…it may be his only shirt. Marlowe wears a white cotton shirt with a long point collar, front placket, and breast pocket. The sleeves end with squared barrel cuffs with two buttons to close.

The Long Goodbye proves that there are worse things than the common nightmare of being naked in public... such as being fully clothed but surrounded by near-naked henchmen intent on castrating you in the tradition of the mohels in their families.

The Long Goodbye proves that there are worse things than the common nightmare of being naked in public… such as being fully clothed but surrounded by near-naked henchmen intent on castrating you in the tradition of the mohels in their families.

Roger Wade: I wish you’d take that goddamn J.C. Penney tie off, eh? And settle down with me, and what you and I are gonna do is have a little old-fashioned, man-to-man drinking party.
Philip Marlowe: That’s okay with me, but I’m not gonna take my tie off.

Even at 3 a.m. when he rolls out of bed to pick up cat food, Marlowe is sure to toss his already-tied cravat around his neck for the trip to the 24-hour grocery store, sticking to an outdated, genre-informed sense of decorum—one to which he feels compelled to later educate Harry the hoodlum (David Arkin)—even if he falters in his half-assed execution. Marlowe certainly cares a lot about that tie, desperately flinging it off of his neck to protect the silk when he makes his frantic and futile dash into the ocean to try and prevent a suicidal Roger Wade from throwing himself to the mercy of the Pacific waves… well, Roger had always wanted him to take that tie off.

The narrow tie is crimson red silk with a motif of red, white, and blue American flags made barely discernable by the post-flashing techniques of cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond which dampened the color black on screen and softened more intense colors to the point of appearing nearly pastel. The small flags are bannered in widely spaced-apart stripes following a “downhill” direction.

Philip Marlowe doesn't let a little thing like getting hit by a car get in the way of enjoying a cigarette.

Philip Marlowe doesn’t let a little thing like getting hit by a car get in the way of enjoying a cigarette.

Most “flag ties” commercially available are hardly as subtle as Marlowe’s, ranging from at least organizing its patriotic pattern (as on this Jacob Alexander tie) to going unapologetically American in its presentation (as on this collage-covered tie from PARQUET.) Vineyard Vines also offers a “Flags & Stars” printed silk tie that, like Marlowe’s tie, illustrates its national banners against a red backdrop, though hardly anything about this tie could be considered subtle.

Marlowe’s undergarments are seen most clearly when he’s in various forms of captivity, first jail and eventually the hospital after he’s waylaid by a yellow Mustang while in pursuit of Eileen’s Mercedes, as seen above. He spends his days in a white ribbed cotton sleeveless undershirt and “tighty-whitey” white cotton briefs.

Checking himself out of the hospital.

Checking himself out of the hospital.

Marlowe walks through L.A. and Mexico in a pair of much-traveled black leather apron-toe derby shoes, worn with thin black socks.

Rip Van Marlowe.

Rip Van Marlowe.

Shining from the third finger of Gould’s right hand is a large and ornate gold ring, its provenance and significance unknown though it recalls the decades-earlier glory of men like the Rat Pack who wore their pinky rings with pride.

Rather than try to ape the distinctive smoking style of his predecessor Humphrey Bogart, Elliott Gould develops a unique "smoking face" for his take on Philip Marlowe.

Rather than try to ape the distinctive smoking style of his predecessor Humphrey Bogart, Elliott Gould develops a unique “smoking face” for his take on Philip Marlowe.

Marlowe also wears a classic dress watch evoking an earlier era of elegance, a gold tank watch with a silver square dial on a black leather strap, not unlike the Cartier Tank that adorned the wrists of such gents as Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, and Rudolph Valentino. Philip Marlowe—particularly Gould’s scruffy “Rip Van Marlowe”—is hardly a suave screen lothario, but he’s a product of an era that celebrated such debonair class.

THE LONG GOODBYE

It makes sense that Marlowe wears the same thing throughout the movie as, when we see the luckless detective try to return home with his newly cleaned laundry, he’s assailed by Marty Augustine’s henchmen who strew his clothes all over the floor of his apartment before they tear the place apart.

The Car

While the Marlowe of Chandler’s novel makes frequent reference to his trusty “Olds”, an aging Oldsmobile convertible, the “Rip Van Marlowe” of Altman’s The Long Goodbye pilots a forest green 1948 Lincoln Continental convertible through the streets of Los Angeles.

In his 2014 interview with Brett Berk for BBC, Gould confirms the Continental’s model year, adding that “It was my car. I wouldn’t have used that car. Bob wanted to use it. I didn’t even charge him for it. But that was Marlowe absolutely: a stranger in a strange land. A guy out of time and place.”

From the cockpit of his Continental, Marlowe gives a few tips to the hapless henchman Harry.

From the cockpit of his Continental, Marlowe gives a few tips to the hapless henchman Harry.

Though several generations of the Lincoln Continental were produced across the 20th century, it would be difficult to surpass the iconic status of the original, first produced for the model years 1940 through 1942—designed by Bob Gregorie—and again after World War II for the 1946 to 1948 model years, redesigned by Raymond Loewy. 1948 marked the final model year not just for the Continental but also the last time—as of 2019—that a major American automaker had produced a car with a V12 engine.

THE LONG GOODBYE

1948 Lincoln Continental Convertible Cabriolet

Body Style: 2-door convertible

Layout: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive (RWD)

Engine: 292 cu. in. (4.8 L) Lincoln-Zephyr “Model H” V12

Power: 125 hp (93.2 kW; 127 PS) @ 4000 RPM

Torque: 220 lb·ft (298 N·m) @ 2000 RPM

Transmission: 3-speed manual

Wheelbase: 125 inches (3175 mm)

Length: 219.6 inches (5578 mm)

Width: 77.8 inches (1976 mm)

Height: 63.1 inches (1603 mm)

According to IMDB, Marlowe’s ’48 Continental—with its telling license plate of “PVT 101” (or “private eye 101”)—had been repainted yellow and placed in The Harrah Collection’s National Automobile Museum in Reno, Nevada. If you’re interested in reading more about this make and model, check out my earlier #CarWeek post about the 1941 Lincoln that James Caan drove as Sonny Corleone for the famous “tollbooth scene” in The Godfather (1972).

The Gun

For being a noir-esque detective story, there’s relatively few firearms in The Long Goodbye, with the majority relegated to the various gun racks at Roger Wade’s home or in the Mexican police station. It isn’t until the final act that a gun truly comes into play when Philip Marlowe pulls a 4″-barreled Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolver from the back of his waistband.

"Yeah, I even lost my cat..."

“Yeah, I even lost my cat…”

In contrast, Raymond Chandler describes a half-dozen different firearms in the novel The Long Goodbye, including at least two curious references to “a Mauser P.P.K.” in the hands of both Roger Wade and Terry Lennox, mixing up the German manufacturers of the Mauser HSc and Walther PPK. Chandler’s Marlowe arms himself with two different revolvers, beginning with “a tough little short-barreled .32 with flat-point cartridges” when he drives to Dr. Verringer’s estate in chapter 19 and, in chapter 47, he packs “a gun in a belt holster on the left side, butt forward, a short-barreled Police 38.”

Aside from the holster, this latter weapon and its context of preparing for a climactic confrontation was likely what inspired the filmmakers of The Long Goodbye to arm Elliott Gould with a .38 Special police revolver like this venerated handgun introduced by Smith & Wesson for the law enforcement market in 1899.

A 1970s-era bottle of Aalborg aquavit not unlike the one Roger Wade shares with Philip Marlowe. (Source: Master of Malt)

A 1970s-era bottle of Aalborg aquavit not unlike the one Wade shares with Marlowe.
(Source: Master of Malt)

What to Imbibe

Roger Wade: I got champagne, beer, Scotch, bourbon, aquavit, port…
Philip Marlowe: What are you drinking?
Roger Wade: What I’m drinking is called aquavit.
Philip Marlowe: Well, I’m drinking what you’re drinking.
Roger Wade: God bless you, I like to hear that. You know, there’s an awful lot of people, you say, what do you want to drink? “Ooh, I want this, I want that, and a twist of lemon.” Balls!

The literary Philip Marlowe may be a famous imbiber, but he can hardly match the hard-drinking, Hemingway-esque author Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden), with whom he imbibes in aquavit as the gregarious and poetically profane writer continues refilling their mugs from a chilled bottle of Aalborg.

Also known as “akvavit”, reportedly derived from the Latin aqua vitae for “water of life”, this spirit dates back to at least the 16th century as a staple of Scandinavian culture, distilled from either grain or potatoes and flavored with a variety of herbs and spices.

Aalborg, the distillery headquartered in the Danish town of the same name, distills their aquavit with amber. (For the record—and perhaps not coincidentally—Aalborg was determined to be the “happiest” European city in a European Commission study.)

Roger Wade refills Marlowe's mug of aquavit.

Roger Wade refills Marlowe’s mug with aquavit.

Though it unfortunately didn’t make it to the screen adaptation, Chandler’s famous commentary on the gimlet appears in the third chapter of The Long Goodbye as Marlowe joins Terry Lennox for a drink on a “wet March evening.”

We sat in a corner of the bar at Victor’s and drank gimlets. “They don’t know how to make them here,” he said. “What they call a gimlet is just some lime or lemon juice and gin with half a dash of sugar and bitters. A real gimlet is half gin and half Rose’s Lime Juice and nothing else. It beats martinis hollow.”

Questionable comparison to the venerable martini aside, Terry has excellent taste as the gimlet is a simple and classic cocktail worthy of anyone’s time. The IBA has updated the proportions from the sweeter days of the 1930 edition of The Savoy Cocktail Book championed by Lennox to be two parts gin and one part lime juice, but the essence remains the same. Both ingredients are to be shaken with ice, poured into a chilled cocktail glass, and—should one be so inclined—garnished with a lime slice.

Marlowe comments that “although [Lennox] wasn’t English, he had some of the mannerisms.” The gimlet too shares Terry’s dubious English origins with the perhaps apocryphal suggestion that Rear-Admiral Sir Thomas Gimlette, KCB, of the British Royal Navy had stumbled upon the modern gimlet when he added lime curvy to his shipmates’ daily gin tot to combat scurvy.

Gould's despondent-looking Marlowe, drowning his post-jail sorrows in a highball rather than the gimlet specified by Raymond Chandler.

Gould’s despondent-looking Marlowe, drowning his post-jail sorrows in a highball rather than the gimlet specified by Raymond Chandler.

Marlowe would certainly be well-protected against scurvy after the events of The Long Goodbye, drinking gimlets in tribute to his pal Terry in chapters 22 and 46.

“A gimlet,” I said. “No bitters.”

He put the little naplkin in front of me and kept looking at me. “You know something,” he said in a pleased voice. “I heard you and your friend talking one night and I got me in a bottle of that Rose’s Lime Juice. Then you didn’t come back any more and I only opened it tonight.”

“My friend left town,” I said. “A double if it’s all right with you. And thanks for taking the trouble.”

If you’re not in the mood for citrus or you have a more cavalier approach to the formidable threat of scurvy, you can follow the example of Gould’s Marlowe who stumbles into a dive after three days in the pokey, aiming to reacclimate his liver to the private eye lifestyle by ordering a highball concocted of Canadian Club whiskey and ginger ale:

I think I’ll have a drink… C.C. and ginger.

Finally, as a a drenched Marlowe and Eileen stand on the beach behind the Wade compound, they attempt to warm themselves by drinking brandy by Korbel, a California brand that many may know better today for its budget-priced sparkling wine, manufactured using the méthode champenoise process. While Korbel’s champagne has been the winery’s best-known output since 1882, its brandy is particularly popular in the state of Wisconsin, home of the brandy-and-Sprite Old Fashioned.

The brandy inebriates Marlowe to the point that he’s cursing out the police and threatening to sicc then-governor Ronald Reagan on them.

THE LONG GOODBYE

For what it’s worth, Marlowe does get to meet a California governor in the following scene…as future “Govern-ator” Arnold Schwarzenegger makes an uncredited appearance as one of Marty Augustine’s thugs.

How to Get the Look

In his novel The Long Goodbye, Raymond Chandler didn’t go into as much detail when describing Philip Marlowe’s clothing as he famously did in The Big Sleep, adding only passing references to his jacket, tie, and dark sunglasses, giving Elliott Gould free reign to develop his own look as the iconic detective.

Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye (1973)

Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye (1973)

“Slapdash suits” of semi-matching jackets and trousers are rarely advisable, so—for all intents and purposes—it behooves me as a style blogger to insist that anyone inspired by Marlowe’s all-American red, white, and blue garb should at least don a suit of matching pieces before looking for that patriotic tie and chunky gold ring to bring the look together.

  • Navy blue napped flannel suit:
    • Single-breasted 3-button jacket with swelled-edge notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, spaced 3-button cuffs, and long single vent
    • Flat front low-rise trousers with fitted waistband, frogmouth front pockets, jetted back pockets (with button-through left pocket), and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with long point collar, front placket, breast pocket, and 2-button squared barrel cuffs
  • Crimson red silk tie with American flag motif
  • Black calf leather apron-toe derby shoes
  • Thin black socks
  • White ribbed cotton sleeveless undershirt
  • White cotton briefs
  • Large ornate gold ring
  • Gold tank watch with silver square dial and black leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie and read Chandler’s 1953 novel.

(And, if you’re Steven Soderbergh, text Elliott Gould back! He wants to play Marlowe again!)

The Quote

Yeah, I get the picture. Case closed, all zippered up like a big bag of shit.

Scent of a Woman: Al Pacino’s Glenurquhart Plaid Suit

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Al Pacino tangos with Gabrielle Anwar in Scent of a Woman (1992)

Al Pacino tangos with Gabrielle Anwar in Scent of a Woman (1992)

Vitals

Al Pacino as Frank Slade, blind and bitter retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel “who likes to spit in everybody’s eye”

New York City, Thanksgiving 1992

Film: Scent of a Woman
Release Date: December 23, 1992
Director: Martin Brest
Costume Designer: Aude Bronson-Howard
Tailor: Martin Greenfield

Background

On the eve of Thanksgiving, today seemed like a fitting occasion to address one of the most requested suits I’ve heard from readers: Al Pacino’s freshly tailored Glenurquhart check three-piece suit as the cantankerous Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade in Scent of a Woman. Pacino turned in a landmark performance in his prolific career, winning his sole Academy Award after six nominations (with one additional nod the same year for Glengarry Glen Ross), a result of the intense method actor’s painstaking research in meeting with clients of New York’s Associated Blind to understand life—from mood to mobility—as a person without sight.

After 26 years in the Army, a nearly blind Frank “Don’t Call Me ‘Sir'” Slade spends his days sitting in the darkened corner of his modest home, filling lowball glasses to the brim with Jack Daniel’s, berating his family, and spitting anger at anyone brave enough to visit him, including Charlie Simms (Chris O’Donnell), the mild-mannered prep school student hired by Frank’s niece Karen to take care of her uncle through Thanksgiving weekend. “His bark is worse than his bite,” Karen (Sally Murphy) assures Charlie, who soon finds himself swept away on an unpredictable ride to “freak show central… New York City” with the colonel, who is seeking one “little tour of pleasures” before committing suicide.

This movie was considered by Wook Kim for TIME to have one of the top 10 Thanksgiving scenes as Frank and Charlie—both outfitted in stylish new duds—divert from their high-living interlude in New York City to pay a surprise visit to Frank’s “miserable” brother, W.R. Slade (Richard Venture), “the original bulging briefcase man,” and his family for a contentious Turkey Day:

Say hello to the potluck party from New York City!

At least they had moved onto dessert and coffee before Frank's rambling got too hostile...

At least they had moved onto dessert and coffee before Frank’s rambling got too hostile…

While the Thanksgiving dinner is memorable, entertaining, and a deep dive into why Frank Slade is who he is, Scent of a Woman‘s arguably most famous sequence finds Frank and Charlie arriving for afternoon drinks at the Pierre Hotel when Frank sniffs out “a nice soap-and-water feeling down there,” inviting the lovely Donna (Gabrielle Anwar) to drink with them and eventually to join him on the dance floor. Donna may think she’s doing a favor for an aging blind man who has to ask for assistance from Charlie (“I need some coordinates here, son”) before Frank wows both her and the crowd with an impressive tango to “Por Una Cabeza” that reportedly took two weeks of practice and three days to film.

No mistakes in the tango, Donna, not like life. Simple. That’s what makes the tango so great. If you make a mistake, get all tangled up, you just tango on.

What’d He Wear?

♫ It’s a lovely day today, so whatever you gotta do, you got a lovely day to do it in, that’s true… ♫

Frank Slade didn’t include among the description of his “little tour of pleasures” that he would begin the day by getting tailored for a fine suit, but Charlie awakens the next morning to find Frank gleefully trying on this Glenurquhart check three-piece masterpiece.

“This is Sophia, Charlie,” introduces Frank. “She’s a magician with a needle. Sophia’s working me up a little glen plaid number, and I’ve asked her if she’d put something together for you.”

"Standard issue for an upscale urban assignment!"

“Standard issue for an upscale urban assignment!”

This statement suit’s classic styling recalls a bygone era of elegance, elevating it beyond the 1990s production and setting, taking the viewer to a time when being a man meant not only knowing how to drink but also knowing how to dance. Similar finery may have hung in the closets of Cary Grant, Gary Cooper, or Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and seeing the plaid three-piece suit in service alongside Bradley Whitford’s baggy denim shirt and vaguely geometric-patterned tie serves only to bear Pacino’s suit farther aloft.

Patterned in a sharp black-and-white glen plaid with a pink overcheck, Pacino’s wool three-piece suit in Scent of a Woman has caught the eye of many a style enthusiast. The suit was the focus of a fine appreciative piece by Benedict Browne for The Rake in 2018, though Browne’s description of the “Prince of Wales check suit with lovely, subtle and fine tangerine overcheck” begs the question: what’s the most accurate way to describe Frank Slade’s plaid suiting?

Though I’ve seen the appellation “Prince of Wales check” broadly applied to everything from a basic two-color glen plaid to the arguably incorrect houndstooth check, let’s allow one of the film’s tailors himself define the pattern. In addition to Martin Greenfield, whose venerated Brooklyn shop tailored Pacino’s suits including this famous three-piece, Alan Flusser contributed some clothing to Scent of a Woman. In his seminal style tome, Dressing the Man, Flusser defines the Prince of Wales check:

The name widely, but incorrectly, applied to the glenurquhart check and similar checks with a colored overcheck. The authentic Prince of Wales check was designed by King Edward VII, grandfather of the famous Duke of Windsor, when he was Prince of Wales, as livery for his shootings at Abergeldie House in Scotland’s Deeside. It is of similar pattern to the glenurquhart but nearly twice its size, on repeat with colors of red-brown on a white ground, with a slate gray overcheck.

To accurately define the Glenurquhart check, Flusser sends us deeper into his glossary, informing us that it’s “a woolen or worsted suiting or coating material made with the ever popular glen plaid with an overplaid effect weave in both warp and filling directions.”

Thus, would Flusser call Pacino’s famous suit a true Prince of Wales check? I would be cautious, for fear of misusing sartorial terminology is a high crime in the court of public opinion when it comes to certain segments of men’s style enthusiasts. Frank’s own description of the suit as “a little glen plaid number” is a safer bet, though the pink overcheck takes it into Glenurquhart check territory.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

Martin Greenfield described in his 2014 memoir, Measure of a Man:

Given the film’s famous tango, we took extra care to create a suit that looked spectacular while still allowing Al to move freely for those all-important scenes. Afterward, Al said to me, “Martin, I’ve never danced in a suit like the one you made for me.” A terrific compliment from a terrific actor—and dancer!

Al Pacino is far from being among the taller Hollywood actors to grace the silver screen, but Alan Flusser himself describes in Dressing the Man how a suit can be tailored to flatter a shorter and slimmer man like the 5’7″ Pacino, suggesting that “the single-breasted, three-button jacket would be welcome here, as when worn unbuttoned”—as Frank always does—”each side forms a panel down the front that creates an illusion of verticality.” In Frank Slade’s case, the wide peak lapels gently roll over the top button, creating a 3/2.5-roll effect that doesn’t obscure the top button like a full 3/2-roll though it discourages buttoning the top.

Rigging Frank’s single-breasted suit jacket with peak lapels, typically a double-breasted rever, suggests the interwar “golden era” of menswear when the style was at its peak… if you’ll forgive the pun. Though the single-breasted, peak-lapel jacket has been the subject of infrequent revivals, first in the 1970s and again during the most recent decade, Flusser noted in 2002 that “this mildly offbeat suit model remains pretty much confined to the custom-tailored crowd… rarely found on ready-to-wear racks.”

“Flaps or patch pockets add weight to the jacket’s proportionally smaller hip, effecting a better overall balance between the top and bottom halves of the jacket,” Flusser adds in his evaluation of how to tailor for a body type like Pacino’s, and indeed the straight pockets on the hips of Frank’s jacket are each covered with a flap. The jacket also has a welted breast pocket, four-button cuffs, and long double vents. The wide, well-built shoulders of the jacket, slightly roped at the sleeveheads, add breadth to Pacino’s shoulders to shape his silhouette into a more flattering and subtly imposing hourglass type.

Frank prepares to wow Donna, Charlie, the audience, and—perhaps most significantly—himself by dancing an expert tango in his beautifully tailored suit.

Frank prepares to wow Donna, Charlie, the audience, and—perhaps most significantly—himself by dancing an expert tango in his beautifully tailored suit.

The addition of a waistcoat (or vest, as we Americans have colloquialized) enhances the throwback nature of Frank Slade’s suit, though the opening of his single-breasted waistcoat is slightly lower than the high-fastening models popular during the interwar era. Frank’s waistcoat has six buttons, and he correctly wears the lowest unbuttoned over the notched bottom. There are four welted pockets—two on each side—and the back is lined in a dark gray satin to match the jacket lining, with a strap across the back of the waist with a buckle to adjust the tightness through a buckle.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

While some men recoil at the thought of “old-fashioned” pleated trousers, Flusser celebrated their revival in Dressing the Man, stating that “the most fortuitous development in recent trouser fashion occurred in the eighties, when pleats and suspenders returned dress trousers to the flattering sanctuary of the man’s natural waist.”

Frank’s trousers, which properly rise to Pacino’s natural waist with the top neatly covered by his waistcoat, are classically designed with two forward-facing pleats that work in harmony. Farther back, a vertical pocket is cut along each side seam with two jetted pockets on the back seat. The bottoms are finished with turn-ups (cuffs), another polarizing detail that makes modern men scoff but can add a degree of elegance when properly employed.

Pleated trousers provide more mobility for a tango dancer to more effectively (and elegantly) showcase his skills. Just saying.

Pleated trousers provide more mobility for a tango dancer to more effectively (and elegantly) showcase his skills. Just saying.

Frank’s belt loops go unused in favor of suspenders (braces) that connect to buttons along the inside of his trouser waist line, beginning with a wide set of khaki rayon suspenders with a white elasticized strap between the brown leather back patch and the single set of ears in the back. These light brown suspenders have gold-toned adjusters and leather details—two sets of ears in the front and one in the back, as well as the back patch—in a light brown shade of leather often called “English tan.”

"A belt can never match the suspender in allowing the pleated trouser to fulfill its aesthetic function," writes Flusser.

“A belt can never match the suspender in allowing the pleated trouser to fulfill its aesthetic function,” writes Flusser.

WIth this suit, Frank primarily wears a white cotton shirt with a wide front placket and button cuffs, though the most significant detail is the natty addition of a tab collar. Popularized by the Prince of Wales (of course!) during the waning years of the roaring ’20s, the tab collar sits somewhere on the spectrum of sophisticated to fussy, suggesting a gentleman who wears his clothes with attention and care as a correctly worn tab collar with flatteringly knotted tie can have a very neat appearance… while any misstep in a tab collar completely ruins the effect, making it a particularly bold and ultimately effective choice for a man without sight.

After a trip to the barber, Frank allows his tab collar to go unfastened for only these few seconds before rebuttoning it under his tie knot.

After a trip to the barber, Frank allows his tab collar to go unfastened for only these few seconds before rebuttoning it under his tie knot.

“Bay rum… Windsor knot…” Frank talks himself through his final preparations before his appointment with the escort. Luckily, Frank is at least incorrect about his latter point, instead wearing his maroon polka-dot tie in a classic four-in-hand knot rather than the wider Windsor. His tie is patterned in a field of substantial white polka dots, organized in staggered rows.

Polka-dot ties are a classic pattern that are thankfully abundant among the offerings of neckwear manufacturers, from high-quality tie makers like Sam Hober and Turnbull & Asser to more budget-friendly products offered by The Smart Man (with matching pocket hank) and The Tie Bar.

Note that, while Frank wears the same tie on Friday as he did on Thursday, he has changed into gray-and-black striped suspenders.

Note that, while Frank wears the same tie on Friday as he did on Thursday, he has changed into gray-and-black striped suspenders.

Frank foregoes a pocket hank for his surprise visit to his brother’s Thanksgiving dinner, perhaps a subtle nod to his disregard to that branch of his family, though he would dress the following day with a white pocket square neatly folded into the jacket’s welted breast pocket.

When visiting the high-priced escort that Friday evening, Frank swaps out the white pocket square for a more romantic “red foulard” display kerchief, though he corrects Charlie’s assurance that it’s “real dark red” by clarifying:

Burgundy, Charlie. Burgundy.

Though Frank's tie and pocket hank share a burgundy-tinted ground, he avoids the faux pas of matching them exactly, choosing a solid and brighter burgundy for his pocket square that contrasts but coordinates with his maroon polka-dot tie.

Though Frank’s tie and pocket hank share a burgundy-tinted ground, he avoids the faux pas of matching them exactly, choosing a solid and brighter burgundy for his pocket square that contrasts but coordinates with his maroon polka-dot tie.

“26 years in the service, never let an aide shine my shoes,” Frank notes after the shoeshiner finishes his work on the colonel’s brown wingtips. Made from chestnut brown calf leather, Frank’s oxford-laced wingtip brogues are accordingly perforated and serrated along the edges with a decorative perforated toe.

Why are these imitation punchings such an integral part of the beloved brogue? They recall the functional perforations of the bróg shoe that originated centuries earlier in Ireland and the Scottish Highlands, drilled into the then-deerhide shoes to allow water to drain out after a day traversing particularly wet terrain. Today, the brogue still suggests a more rugged connotation than its more formal bal-type and derby cousins, though any man expecting his Allen Edmonds or Cleverley brogues to self-drain after a rainy commute to work would be sorely disappointed.

Frank finds particular pleasure in enjoying a simultaneous shoeshine and a shave.

Frank finds particular pleasure in enjoying a simultaneous shoeshine and a shave.

Frank wears his brown oxford brogues first with black ribbed cotton lisle socks, changing into navy socks on Saturday that are best seen as he stumbles around Manhattan in a melancholic haze after his Ferrari test drive is brought to an abrupt end.

Frank’s undershirts are exclusively white cotton short-sleeved T-shirts, though he alternates between a V-neck style and a round crew-neck style, the latter most prominently seen when he wakes up on Saturday afternoon.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

“You ever given any thought to a braille watch, Frank?” asks Randy (Bradley Whitford), Frank’s rightfully resentful nephew. “Stevie Wonder wears one, or do ya rank on him too?”

While Frank doesn’t share his thoughts on Stevie Wonder, he foregoes a watch with his sole accessory being the sterling silver chain-link ID bracelet on his right wrist, ostensibly engraved with his name and rank in the spirit of the military identification bracelets associated with American servicemen.

"Know what this is, Randy? It's a Ranger chokehold I'm teaching those second lieutenants."

“Know what this is, Randy? It’s a Ranger chokehold I’m teaching those second lieutenants.”

Frank wears a stylish double-breasted overcoat that’s evidently also the product of his tailor, made from a fawn-colored soft woolen cloth. The coat mimics the suit jacket beneath it with structured shoulders and elegant peak lapels, though in this case they roll to the top of two fastening buttons on the six-button double-breasted front.

The coat has a long single vent, three-button cuffs, and straight flapped hip pockets in addition to a flapped ticket pocket on the right side.

Frank Slade's family doesn't seem too pleased to greet him at home for the holidays.

Frank Slade’s family doesn’t seem too pleased to greet him at home for the holidays.

To combat the chill of late autumn in New York City, Frank frequently dons a burgundy scarf also made from a soft wool, likely cashmere, with fringed ends. He typically wears the scarf draped around his neck but untied, perhaps to avoid covering the details of his suit, shirt, and tie beneath his coat.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

Frank wears black leather three-point gloves, so named for the three lines of decorative stitching on the dorsal side.

These gloves are made for driving...

These gloves are made for driving…

We arrive at Saturday, the day that Frank never expected to live through, expecting only to wake, don his dress blues, and shoot himself. Luckily, Charlie was there to find one more thing to live for, the possibility of driving a Ferrari. Frank dresses for the occasion in his new tailored three-piece suit, though he presses a new shirt and tie into service. With its tab collar and button cuffs, the shirt is styled similarly to his white shirts though patterned with slate-blue bengal stripes on a white ground.

Frank pulls a tie that I believe we had seen hanging next to his closet as Charlie packed him for the trip, a black or dark navy foulard silk tie with a repeating pattern of small bronze square-within-a-square designs on rows that alternate between standard squares and squares rotated at 45°.

Frank returns to his hotel suite in a daze on what he expects to be the last day of his life.

Frank returns to his hotel suite in a daze on what he expects to be the last day of his life.

What to Imbibe

“Try to keep him down to four drinks a day,” Karen requests when Charlie begins his first day as Frank’s caretaker. “If you can keep him down to 40, you’re doing good,” her husband Donny (Michael Santoro) adds, arguably unhelpfully. It’s going to be a hard task for the young man, as Frank Slade keeps both his home and his liver well-stocked at all times. His home bar has several bottles on display, including two kinds of Scotch (J&B and Johnnie Walker Red Label), Beefeater gin, and Martini & Rossi sweet red vermouth, though it’s John Daniel’s that fuels him each miserable day.

Wait… don’t I mean Jack Daniel’s? “He may be Jack to you, son, but when you’ve known him as long as I have…” Frank jests.

Frank Slade's old pal John Daniel's gives him the extra liquid courage to crudely hold court at his brother's Thanksgiving dinner.

Frank Slade’s old pal John Daniel’s gives him the extra liquid courage to crudely hold court at his brother’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Jack Daniel’s gets plenty of screen time and screen mentions, though Frank Slade’s boorish behavior under its influence doesn’t give the brand much equity from its appearance on screen. He tends to drink it on the rocks, ordering a double on the rocks when at a restaurant, though the ice seems to melt when he’s enjoying one glass far too many at his brother’s Thanksgiving dinner table.

“Where’s the booze? Flowin’ like mud around here!” Frank often asks, first within a minute of ordering his drink at the Oak Room and then again upon making his unwelcome surprise appearance at his brother’s White Plains home. “I meant to pick up some vino on my way up, but I blew it!”

The Gun

Charlie: Where did you get a gun, Colonel?
Frank: “Piece” or “weapon”, Charlie. Never a “gun”.

The weapon—or piece, if you will—that Frank Slade plans to use to “blow my brains out… on my big, beautiful bed at the Waldorf” is a Colt MK IV Series 80, a civilian model of the venerable M1911A1 service pistol that the U.S. Army had used for more than a half-century before phasing it out in favor of the Beretta-based M9 pistol during the 1980s. The pistol can be identified by its shining blued steel finish, white three-dot sights, and gold Colt medallions on the wooden grips.

It could be argued that, with his finger on the trigger of a loaded .45, Frank has a considerably cavalier attitude about gun safety... though we know he's not particularly concerned at the moment.

It could be argued that, with his finger on the trigger of a loaded .45, Frank has a considerably cavalier attitude about gun safety… though we know he’s not particularly concerned at the moment.

Friday morning, the day after Frank crashed his brother’s Thanksgiving dinner, Charlie wakes up to the sound of Frank disassembling his Series 80 in the bedroom of their shared suite at the Waldorf. “Time me!” Frank barks, and Charlie steps closer to watch Slade swiftly and expertly assemble and disassemble the weapon, all the more impressive as he’s doing so without sight. “That felt like 25,” Frank observes, citing his ability to reassemble the piece in less than 30 seconds. “You ought to be able to do a .45 in 25.”

Frank Slade reassembles his .45 in about 25 seconds, commenting that he must have been "rusty" if it was taking him five seconds longer. Note the loaded magazine that Frank will insert into the well when he completes the task.

Frank Slade reassembles his .45 in about 25 seconds, commenting that he must have been “rusty” if it was taking him five seconds longer. Note the loaded magazine that Frank will insert into the well when he completes the task.

I’m a Lieutenant Colonel, United States Army, I’m not giving my fuckin’ gun to anyone… now, what are you drinking?

The Colt MK IV Series 80 is presented as though it were Lieutenant Colonel Slade’s issued sidearm as an Army Ranger, though the U.S. military never authorized the Series 80. This civilian series began in 1970 with the introduction of the Colt Government MK Series 70 with accurized split barrel “collet” bushing, superceded in 1983 with the development of the MK IV Series 80, considered the first major improvement of the classic 1911 design as it introduced an internal firing pin safety and new half-cock notch on the sear. Although the collet bushing had the intended effect of improving accuracy, it proved to be prone to breakage and was dropped in favor of the original bushing in 1988.

For the most part, the Colt MK IV Series 80 follows the same specifications as the classic M1911A1 with an 8.5″ overall length and a 5″-long barrel, though the magazine carries an additional round of .45 ACP, bringing the total magazine capacity to eight rounds. Other versions of the Series 80 were built to chamber 9×19 mm Parabellum, .38 Super, and even 10 mm ammunition, though the .45-caliber option would be the only choice for an officer like Frank Slade as:

An officer never relinquishes his .45.

The Car

Charlie goads a despondent, suicidal Frank out of bed on Saturday morning with the promise of a ride, aware that a Ferrari is “a very, very distant second” to women on Frank Slade’s list of things he likes. They head to a New York City Ferrari dealer, where the salesman Freddie Bisco (Leonard Gaines), who is proudly “known from coast to coast like butter and toast,” is reasonably hesitant to let a 17-year-old and his blind companion test drive the prized Ferrari Testarossa.

Frank: How many Ferraris you sold this month ?
Freddie: That’s not relevant to this discussion.
Frank: Freddie, the 80s are over. Are you tryin’ to tell me these are just walkin’ outta the store?
Freddie: This is a Ferrari, this is the finest machinery made in the automobile industry.
Frank: Well, if you like it that much, why don’t you sleep with it. Why are you sellin’ it?

Eventually, Frank works his charm—and a $2,000 bribe—on Freddie Bisco, and he finds himself a still-gloomy passenger as Charlie tamely navigates the bright red 1989 Ferrari Mondial t cabriolet through Manhattan.

“Drop her into neutral, slide her into second… pop the clutch,” Frank advises when Charlie stalls out, and the student realizes that the old soldier will need a turn at the controls to truly turn his mood around. After a doddering start, Frank gets the feel behind the wheel and slides the Ferrari into high gear, speeding through the streets and narrowly missing potentially fatal obstacles.

Charlie: You’re gonna get us killed!
Frank: Don’t blame me, Charlie, I can’t see!

SCENT OF A WOMAN

While the Ferrari Mondial series never reached the prestigious heights of iconic Ferrari models like the 308 GTS, F40, or Testarossa, Mark Pearson wrote for a May 2015 issue of Autocar that “…the V8 sings and the chassis is a delight, with many thinking it sweeter in the ride and handling than the equivalent two-seat models…Find a good one and you’ll get one of Ferrari’s most reliable and inexpensive cars.”

The first Mondial was introduced in 1980, boasting a design by by Leonardo Fioravanti of Pininfarina in Turin, with whom Ferrari had been working nearly 30 years. The somewhat heavier car met with some criticism for perceived compromises like the four-seat layout, and Ferrari quickly went back to the drawing board to roll out the better-received Mondial Quattrovalvole (QV) for the 1982 model year, introducing a convertible cabriolet the following year. In 1985, Ferrari boosted the V8 engines powering both the 328 and the Mondial to 3185 cc (3.2 L), redesignating the latter as the Mondial 3.2.

For the 1989 model year through 1993, the marque produced the final—and some consider best—evolution of the Mondial, the Ferrari Mondial t, with “t” indicating the shape formed by the relationship of the transverse gearbox to the newly longitudinal mid-engine. The Mondial t was the only generation of the model where convertible production surpassed hardtop coupes with 1,017 cabriolets produced as opposed to only 858 coupes. In 1991, Car & Driver reported that “not only does the Mondial t Cabriolet offer all the right pieces, but it also tingles your soul with all the right sensations,” which is evident as we see an excited Frank Slade come alive while piloting the car through New York’s narrow alleyways.

SCENT OF A WOMAN

1989 Ferrari Mondial t

Body Style: 2-door cabriolet (2+2 seater)

Layout: mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive (RWD)

Engine: 207.8 cubic-inch (3.4 L) Tipo F119D/G V8

Power: 300 hp (224 kW; 304.5 PS) @ 7200 rpm

Torque: 238 lb·ft (323 N·m) @ 4200 rpm

Transmission: 5-speed manual

Wheelbase: 104.3 inches (2650 mm)

Length: 178.5 inches (4535 mm)

Width: 71.3 inches (1810 mm)

Height: 48.6 inches (1235 mm)

More than 20 years after the movie was made, the screen-used Ferrari Mondial t could be visited at the Ferrari Museum in Maranello, Italy. (Source: Herald Sun)

How to Get the Look

Okay, Sophia, suit him up! Make him pretty!

Al Pacino tangos with Gabrielle Anwar in Scent of a Woman (1992)

Al Pacino tangos with Gabrielle Anwar in Scent of a Woman (1992)
Photo by Moviestore/REX/Shutterstock

Scent of a Woman presents Al Pacino at his most stylish, taking Thanksgiving dinner and a subsequent tango to the next level in this classic Glenurquhart check three-piece suit, tailored to perfection by Martin Greenfield.

  • Black-and-white (with pink overcheck) Glenurquhart check plaid wool three-piece tailored suit:
    • Single-breasted 3/2.5-roll jacket with peak lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, 4-button cuffs, and double vents
    • Single-breasted 6-button waistcoat with four welted pockets, notched bottom, and adjustable back strap
    • Double forward-pleated trousers with belt loops, straight/on-seam side pockets, jetted back pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with tab collar, front placket, and single-button cuffs
  • Maroon polka-dot silk tie
  • Khaki rayon suspenders with gold adjusters and brown leather attachment ears and back patch (with white lower back strap)
  • Brown calf leather wingtip oxford brogues
  • Black ribbed cotton lisle socks
  • White cotton short-sleeve undershirt
  • Sterling silver military ID bracelet
  • Fawn soft woolen double-breasted overcoat with 6×2-button front, peak lapels, straight flapped hip pockets with flapped ticket pocket, 3-button cuffs, and long single vent
  • Burgundy cashmere scarf with fringed edges
  • Black leather three-point gloves

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie. If you’re interested in learning more about style and supporting the sartorial craftsmen who have dressed some of the most fashionable gents of the silver screen, I recommend Martin Greenfield’s Measure of a Man and Alan Flusser’s Dressing the Man as required reading… and as fine Christmas gifts for the style enthusiasts in your life!

The Quote

Hoo-ah!

White Christmas: Bing’s Brown Striped Suit

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Bing Crosby as Bob Wallace in White Christmas (1954)

Bing Crosby as Bob Wallace in White Christmas (1954)

Vitals

Bing Crosby as Bob Wallace, Broadway crooner and World War II veteran

Pine Tree, Vermont, December 1954

Film: White Christmas
Release Date: October 14, 1954
Director: Michael Curtiz
Costume Designer: Edith Head

Background

Happy December! To some, the start of December after Thanksgiving marks the start of the Christmas season, while others (like Mariah Carey) kick off their holiday season a month earlier as soon as Halloween is over. To compromise, today’s post for December 1 explores Bing Crosby’s style in White Christmas, arguably a holiday classic, though the outfit in question is his only on-screen ensemble (aside from his army uniforms) that doesn’t include a single piece of holiday red.

Bing Crosby brought his tasteful and interesting sense of dressing to the screen, following many established sartorial conventions while not being afraid to experiment with color. One color convention he doesn’t defy is the somewhat outdated English maxim of “no brown in town”, reserving Bob Wallace’s natty brown striped suit for occasions outside the city that still call for a full suit, such as a dinner with his colleague Phil Davis (Danny Kaye) and the Haynes sisters at his former commanding officer’s Vermont hotel.

Much later, after Bob and Phil have joined forces with the sisters to develop an act to perform at the hotel, he again pulls out the suit for a cast party where Phil and the younger Haynes sister, Judy (Vera-Ellen) announce their surprise engagement, proving that the best things really do happen while you’re dancing! Unfortunately for our protagonists, the “engagement” was only a sham in order to get Bob and older sister Betty (Rosemary Clooney) to commit to each other, backfiring horribly when Betty returns to the Big Apple just before the Christmas Eve show.

What’d He Wear?

This suit that Bing frequently wears during his adjournment in Vermont is made from a cool shade of chocolate brown suiting with a subdued stripe pattern that alternates between a chalk stripe and a wider stripe. The suit is tailored with a flatteringly full fit common to the era, from the wide-shouldered suit jacket to the pleated trousers finished on the bottoms with turn-ups (cuffs). I’m not sure how much of his look in this film was influenced by its venerable costume designer Edith Head or by Crosby’s preferred tailor at the time, H. Huntsman & Sons of Savile Roe, but we can be assured that he was in good hands either way.

The single-breasted suit jacket has notch lapels that roll to a point above the low, two-button stance. There is a straight flapped pocket on each hip with a flapped ticket pocket higher on the right side, in line with the top button. There are three buttons on each cuff and a welted breast pocket, where Bing rakishly wears a white linen hank neither puffed nor creased into any of the traditional pocket square folds.

Bob warily considers Betty's cold-hearted dismissal of him after the news of Phil and Judy's "engagement".

Bob warily considers Betty’s cold-hearted dismissal of him after the news of Phil and Judy’s “engagement”.

Bing’s pale ecru cotton shirt coordinates with the warmth of his brown suit, worn with a light “old gold” silk tie with a hairline uphill-direction repeating stripe. Like his other button-up shirts, this plain-front shirt has a spread collar with leaves that come to a point at the neck to create a triangle under the tie knot and double (French) cuffs, worn first with flat gold disc cuff links (during dinner) and again with blue glass cuff links (after the engagement party), ostensibly the same ones he wore earlier with his powder blue sport jacket.

WHITE CHRISTMAS

One could be forgiven for thinking Bob’s suit to be a full three-piece, as Bing curiously wears an odd waistcoat made from a solid brown cloth that’s just a shade warmer than the rest of the suit. The waistcoat (colloquialized as a “vest” here in the United States) doesn’t contrast enough with the rest of the suit to be a recommended direction, though Crosby wears his with unapologetic panache. Sporting an odd waistcoat in a similar color as a suit threatens to make its wearer look uninformed, attempting too hard to transform a two-piece suit into a three-piece without the matching garments to do it.

Bing’s waistcoat further sets itself apart from the suit with its six flat gold-toned buttons, echoing the tie color and correctly worn with the lowest undone over the notched bottom.

"How much is 'wow'?"

Phil: “How much is ‘wow’?”
Bob: “It’s right in between, uh, between ‘ouch’ and ‘boing.'”
Phil: “Wow!”

Bing wears black leather cap-toe oxfords that harmonize with the suit’s cooler, city-friendly shade of brown. Throughout White Christmas, Crosby wears colorful hosiery that pops from his ankles in bright hues like red and yellow, in this case sporting a more subdued tan that are tonally coordinated with his outfit while still contrasting from his trouser cloth and shoe leather enough to catch the eye.

WHITE CHRISTMAS

When Bob leaves Vermont to return to New York City and settle his disagreements with Betty, he carries his coat and hat, in this case a rich camel peak-lapel overcoat and dark brown fedora, just a shade warmer than his brown suit, with a brown grosgrain ribbon.

Coat and hat in hand, Bob recovers from his spat with Phil by endorsing his plan to distract General Waverly: "Break your arm, your ankle, or your neck... but don't break anything valuable."

Coat and hat in hand, Bob recovers from his spat with Phil by endorsing his plan to distract General Waverly: “Break your arm, your ankle, or your neck… but don’t break anything valuable.”

On his left wrist, Bing Crosby wears a gold watch with a curved brown tooled leather strap that appears to be his own timepiece as it appeared in some of Crosby’s other movies of the period, including High Society, where he follows the same practice of wearing it with the dial on the inside of his wrist.

How to Get the Look

Bing Crosby as Bob Wallace in White Christmas (1954)

Bing Crosby as Bob Wallace in White Christmas (1954)

Bing Crosby shows us an interesting way to wear brown in White Christmas, blending city-inspired sartorial sensibilities with a low-contrast waistcoat for a unique and eye-catching ensemble.

  • Chocolate brown alternating-stripe wool tailored suit:
    • Single-breasted 2-button jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets and flapped ticket pocket,
    • Pleated trousers with turn-ups/cuffs
  • Brown solid waistcoat with six flat gold buttons and notched bottom
  • Pale ecru cotton shirt with spread collar, plain front, and button cuffs
  • Light old gold hairline-striped silk tie
  • Black leather cap-toe oxford shoes
  • Gold wristwatch on tooled brown leather curved strap
  • Brown felt short-brimmed fedora with brown grosgrain band
  • Camel wool overcoat with peak lapels

Bing’s low-contrast shirt and tie and the low-contrast odd waistcoat against his suit are two sartorial gambles that he somehow manages to pull off, though a safer tactic for one inspired by Bob Wallace’s style may be to swap the tie and waistcoat in favor of a darker tie and a lighter waistcoat, perhaps tan.

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie, and have a very happy holiday season!

The Quote

You oughta consider yourself lucky… you might have been stuck with this weirdsmobile for life!

The Public Enemy: Cagney’s New Clothes and Car

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James Cagney leans on the door of a LaSalle as Tom Powers in The Public Enemy (1931)

James Cagney leans on the door of a LaSalle as Tom Powers in The Public Enemy (1931)

Vitals

James Cagney as Tom Powers, dangerous gangster and bootlegger

Chicago, Spring 1920

Film: The Public Enemy
Release Date: April 23, 1931
Director: William A. Wellman
Costume Designer: Edward Stevenson
Wardrobe Credit: Earl Luick

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

Today is the 86th anniversary of the 21st Amendment that repealed Prohibition, the 13-year ban on the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages in the United States. Even before Prohibition was repealed on December 5, 1933, the wave of organized crime it inspired across the country was a popular subject for movies of the era, with Warner Brothers taking the lead with hits like Little CaesarThe Public Enemy, and Scarface that made stars out of intense actors like Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney.

The latter was particularly renowned for his performance in The Public Enemy, a “ripped-from-the-headlines” tour de force of violence based on an unpublished novel written by two former newspapermen who had witnessed firsthand the impact of Al Capone’s brutal stronghold on Chicago during the beer wars of the roaring ’20s.

As #CarWeek continues, let’s flash back to the Prohibition era as Cagney’s Tom Powers hopes to make an impression with his new tailored suits and shiny new touring convertible. Soon after he’s acquired each, Tom flaunts his wealth at a “black and tan” nightclub to the tune of “Toot, Toot, Tootsie”, one of several anachronisms as this 1922 song scores Tom’s arrival in a 1930 model car… far advanced for the scene’s supposed setting of early 1920.

Tom struts into the club, arm in arm with his cheery pal Matt Doyle (Edward Woods, who was originally supposed to have Cagney’s role), where the two easily pick up Mamie (Joan Blondell) and Kitty (an uncredited Mae Clarke), though Tom’s relationship with the latter swiftly goes as sour as the grapefruit he would infamously mash into her face.

Cagney wrote in his autobiography that Mae Clarke's ex-husband, Lew Brice, so enjoyed this scene that he would arrive in the theater just in time to see his ex-wife smashed in the face by a grapefruit before he would leave, returning again for another showing.

Cagney wrote in his autobiography that Mae Clarke’s ex-husband, Lew Brice, so enjoyed this scene that he would arrive in the theater just in time to see his ex-wife smashed in the face by a grapefruit before he would leave, returning again for another showing.

Before the grapefruit incident, Tom and Matt are all charming, using their newfound influence at the speakeasy to get Mamie and Kitty’s sleeping dates sent home (“Listen, why don’t you send them two smack-offs home to their mothers? They’re no good to the joint anymore!”) before Tom cuddles up to Kitty and instantly wins her heart with an infallible pickup line:

You’re a swell dish. I think I’m gonna go for you!

The afternoon after he effectively ends their relationship with the business end of a grapefruit, Tom and Matt are back in their luxurious LaSalle tourer when Tom spots voluptuous Texan blonde Gwen Allen (Jean Harlow) on the street beside them. “How goes it, babe?” Tom calls out from the car. Gwen’s receptive to joining the smooth young gangster, though she’s “not accustomed to riding with strangers.”

“We’re not gonna be strangers,” he assures her with a smile. The two slide into the back seat with a gregarious Matt chauffeuring, though—like scores of Uber passengers nearly a century later—Tom has no time to talk:

Stick to your drivin’, mug!

What’d He Wear?

Like many a swaggering young movie gangster to follow—from Paul Muni in the following year’s Scarface to the teenage Henry Hill (Christopher Serrone) in Goodfellas—Tom Powers’ first stop after his initial taste of success is to pick up some new duds. Tom and Matt’s trip to the tailor was one of three scenes either excised or markedly cut down when submitted to the MPAA for the film’s 1954 re-release as the effeminate tailor’s mannerisms and innuendo were a violation of the Motion Picture Production Code, also known as the “Hays Code” after MPAA president Will H. Hays. While the 1927 list of “Don’ts and Be Carefuls” had technically been in effect since February 1930, it wasn’t until censorship czar Joseph Breen began strictly enforcing the Code in 1934 that it had its draconian impact, rigidly shaping American cinema for thirty years to follow.

While Matt Doyle's request for five sleeve buttons may have been a violation of good taste, the enforcers of the Hays Code were more concerned with the portrayal of the tailor—and said tailor's interest in Tom's muscle—defying the Code's provision against "any inference of sex perversion".

While Matt Doyle’s request for five sleeve buttons may have been a violation of good taste, the enforcers of the Hays Code were more concerned with the portrayal of the tailor—and said tailor’s interest in Tom’s muscle—defying the Code’s provision against “any inference of sex perversion”.

A staple item of Tom Powers’ new wardrobe is a knee-length polo coat made from a heavy, light-colored woolen cloth that’s likely a light golden brown shade associated with camelhair. “Camelhair is the real thing—a rich, golden-fawn colored cloth that is the natural color (cleaned up a bit of course) of the soft hair from the underside of a camel,” defined Hardy Amies in ABCs of Men’s Fashion, in which the droll sartorialist concluded: “This makes it expensive.”

Per its name, the polo coat originated among English polo players as a warm garment to wear between chukkas. Brooks Brothers takes credit for establishing the garment stateside in 1910, around the time when polo migrated across the pond and style-conscious spectators began adopting the coat as outerwear. By the end of the roaring ’20s, the more practical polo coat eclipsed the raccoon coat as the Ivy-preferred outerwear of choice.

Once the polo coat—also known as a camel coat in reference to the camel’s hair construction—became a sideline style staple, a button-closure was added as a more practical means of closing the coat rather than the belted wrap coat often worn by polo players. In some cases, the buttons replaced the belt while other camel coats, like Tom’s coat, were rigged with both buttons and belt. Tom’s full self-belt is suspended by tall loops above the waist, wrapping around the top of the three two-button rows and fastening through a single-prong buckle.

Two polo coats, though Tom projects an ultimately neater appearance with his buckled belt. With its softer-cornered Ulster collar and white-toned buttons, Matt's coat resembles the original Brooks Brothers polo coat developed in the 1910s.

Two polo coats, though Tom projects an ultimately neater appearance with his buckled belt. With its softer-cornered Ulster collar and white-toned buttons, Matt’s coat resembles the original Brooks Brothers polo coat developed in the 1910s.

“From the early twentieth century until well after the Second World War, the polo coat was the all-enveloping outdoor equivalent of the bathrobe, donned by sportsmen to prevent a chill after sweating int he saddle or on the tennis court,” described Esquire‘s The Handbook of Style. “Characterized by its roomy double-breasted cut, big, lumpy patch pockets, and a full or half belt, it is habitually made of a thick plush wool or camel hair to give instant warmth after the melee.”

The coat sleeves fasten over the cuffs with tabs that close on one of two buttons, both spaced far apart; Tom wears the tab fastened to the closest button for the loosest fit over his cuffs. There are large patch pockets on the hips that are covered by a flap that has prominently “swelled” edges as seen on the rest of the coat from the broad peak lapels to the cuff tabs.

Matt wears no outer layer over his tweed three-piece suit while Tom keeps his sporty polo coat in rotation.

Matt wears no outer layer over his tweed three-piece suit while Tom keeps his sporty polo coat in rotation.

Tom’s new coat is first seen when he arrives at the black and tan club, worn over what is ostensibly a new three-piece suit colored in a medium-to-dark wool styled similarly to the darker suit he would later wear for his brother Mike’s homecoming dinner. Magnoli Clothiers includes the “Cagney suit” in its collection, no doubt inspired by the “golden age” tailoring that Cagney wore during the decade, though the Magnoli suit has a three-button front while Tom Powers’ suit in this scene has a single-button jacket.

For his visit to the nightclub, Tom wears dark shoes with dark thin silk socks and a dark homburg hat.

THE PUBLIC ENEMY

The style of Tom’s suit is anachronistically more reflective of 1930 fashions than the scene’s setting a decade earlier, though the single-breasted, peak-lapel suit jacket emerged during the ’20s as a natural evolution of the increasingly popular peak-lapel dinner jacket. “By rigging a single-breasted jacket with a double-breasted rever, this lapel treatment virtually neutralized the double-breasted edge in formality,” wrote Alan Flusser in Dressing the Man, and the style also amplified the flattering athletic silhouette of strongly built shoulders and a suppressed waist.

Cagney’s single-button suit jacket has broad peak lapels with high gorges on a slant that pushes the sharp peaks to within a few inches of each roped shoulder. In the jacket’s welted breast pocket, Tom wears a pocket square of light, colorful silk. The ventless jacket has straight jetted pockets on the hips and three-button cuffs with the buttons placed closely together but spaced far up each cuff. The suit has a matching six-button waistcoat with the lowest button undone over the notched bottom. The flat front trousers are finished on the bottoms with turn-ups (cuffs).

Tom wears a white shirt with a long point collar and double (French) cuffs, though the sleeves of his suit jacket cover enough of Tom’s shirt sleeves that his cuff links go unseen. His multi-striped tie is colored in at least three different colors in high-contrasting light, medium, and dark shades striped in an “uphill” direction.

Matt and Tom sport their new suits, each rigged with single-breasted, peak-lapel jackets though Matt's lapels are a more archaic shape while the sharp peaks of Tom's lapels have transcended the decades and remain the more fashionable of the two styles on display.

Matt and Tom sport their new suits, each rigged with single-breasted, peak-lapel jackets though Matt’s lapels are a more archaic shape while the sharp peaks of Tom’s lapels have transcended the decades and remain the more fashionable of the two styles on display.

Harlow, Woods, and Cagney behind the scenes.

Harlow, Woods, and Cagney behind the scenes.

Later, when Tom meets Gwen during his daytime ride with Matt, he wears a lighter-colored three-piece suit in what appears to be a lightweight flannel. Tom doesn’t remove his overcoat during the sequence, so the only details discernible on screen are the fact that it’s a three-piece suit and that the generously fitting trousers have turn-ups (cuffs), though a behind-the-scenes photo (at right) reveals more of the outfit, including a single-breasted waistcoat and jacket with notch lapels and gently flared cuffs, possibly the same suit that Cagney wears in this publicity photo for Warner Bros. & Vitaphone Pictures.

Tom wears an off-white shirt—possibly ecru, light blue, or light gray—with a slim, rounded club collar with a wide spread as opposed to the longer point collar of his earlier shirt. He wears another striped tie, this one patterned in a series of light, low-contrast “downhill” stripes. Though he again wears dark lace-up shoes, he tops this daytime look with a lighter felt fedora with a high crown, unpinched crown, and narrow brim.

THE PUBLIC ENEMY

On Tom’s left wrist, he wears a metal wristwatch on a metal bracelet.

The Car

Hey, stoop! That’s got gears, that ain’t no Ford!

Tom Powers is rightly proud of his new ride, a 1930 LaSalle All Weather Phaeton “Fleetway”, the most expensive of the six Fleetwood-built models offered by LaSalle for the 1930 model year. The car, and even the marque itself, are anachronistic for a scene meant to be set shortly after Prohibition went into effect in January 1920, though audiences a decade later would recognize the LaSalle as a burgeoning status symbol for a young man on the rise.

THE PUBLIC ENEMY

Three years after Harley Earl introduced the 1927 LaSalle as Cadillac’s “junior” marque, the European-inspired LaSalle had risen to a position of considerable popularity, if not enduring prestige. The 1930 LaSalle, designated Model 340, was available in a dozen body styles, half with coachwork by Fisher and half by Fleetwood including the “Fleetway” All Weather Phaeton”topping out the offerings at a retail price of $3,995 according to Concept Carz. Nearly 15,000 Model 340 LaSalles were manufactured in 1930, though only 250 were the built-on-demand All Weather Phaeton, according to The Cadillac Database.

As a companion to the more expensive Cadillac, the LaSalle was powered by the same 90-degree L-head V8 engine, which generated 90 horsepower in 1930. When General Motors brass observed sales falling on the Cadillac during the Great Depression as buyers turned to the less expensive LaSalle, the LaSalle brand was reimagined for the 1934 model year when it was more aligned with the affordable Oldsmobile marque than the luxurious Cadillacs. By the end of the decade, however, the LaSalle was again reconfigured to resemble the Cadillac but it wasn’t enough to save the brand and General Motors discontinued LaSalle production in 1940.

A 1930 LaSalle All Weather Phaeton, body style 4080, similar to the one belonging to Tom Powers in The Public Enemy, was sold by Hyman Ltd. with the listing including a stunning photo and valuable information about this rare automobile, including the custom touches that include “chrome wire wheels, wide whitewall tires, dual side-mounts, luggage trunk, rollup division window and an opening vee-windshield.”

THE PUBLIC ENEMY

1930 LaSalle Model 340 All Weather Phaeton Fleetwood “Fleetway”

Body Style: 4-door convertible phaeton sedan

Layout: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive (RWD)

Engine: 341 cubic inch (5.6 L) Cadillac “90° L-head” V8

Power: 90 hp (66 kW; 90 PS) @ 3000 rpm

Torque: 208 lb·ft (282 N·m)

Transmission: 3-speed syncromesh manual

Wheelbase: 134 inches (3404 mm)

Length: unknown

Width: unknown

Height: unknown

Tom gets frustrated when the nightclub’s valet grinds the LaSalle’s gears when he attempts to start it and park the car, famously barking at the man that it “ain’t no Ford!” as the Model T was famous for its foolproof planetary two-speed transmission. The LaSalle, on the other hand, was rigged with Cadillac’s innovative three-speed syncromesh transmission whose operation is clearly outlined in pages 14 and 15 of the 1930 LaSalle Operator’s Manual, digitally archived by the GM Heritage Center:

  1. Make sure that the transmission lever is in neutral.
  2. Place the throttle lever about one-fourth the way down from the idling position.
  3. In cold weather, move the ignition control lever all the way to “Starting.”
  4. Switch on the ignition.
  5. Unless the engine is still warm, pull back the carburetor enriching button and hold it back. If the engine is still warm, do not pull back the enriching button unless the engine fails to start on the normal mixture.
  6. Push the starter pedal forward and hold it until the engine starts. Release it immediately as soon as the engine starts.
  7. Let the carburetor enriching button partly in as soon as the engine starts, and all the way in as soon as the engine is warm enough to permit it.
  8. Note whether pressure is indicated on the oil pressure gauge, and stop the engine at once if no pressure is indicated.
  9. Move the throttle lever up to the idling position as soon as the engine is warm enough to permit it.
  10. If the spark lever was moved to “Starting” or “Retard” move it to the best position in the “Driving” range.

… maybe Tom should have just parked the car himself, though the model’s promotional materials assure the reader that “even a novice can shift gears as noiselessly as an expert.”

How to Get the Look

James Cagney as Tom Powers in The Public Enemy (1931)

James Cagney as Tom Powers in The Public Enemy (1931), sporting his lighter flannel suit and fedora with a club-collared shirt under a camel polo coat.

Tom Powers celebrates his newfound success by upgrading his daily kit to a rotation of natty three-piece suits and striped ties, all enveloped in the cozy comforts of a camelhair polo coat that kept many a Jazz Age gent warm and stylish from campus to club.

  • Medium-dark wool or light flannel three-piece tailored suit:
    • Single-breasted 1-button suit jacket with wide peak lapels, welted breast pocket, straight jetted hip pockets, 3-button cuffs, and ventless back
    • Single-breasted 6-button waistcoat with notched bottom
    • Trousers with turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with long point collar or narrow club collar
  • Multi-striped tie
  • Suspenders
  • Dark leather oxford shoes
  • Dark silk socks
  • Light felt high-crowned fedora or dark homburg
  • Camelhair double-breasted polo coat with wide peak lapels, 6×3-button front, self-belt, flapped hip pockets, set-in sleeves with 1-button tab cuffs, and single vent
  • Metal watch on metal bracelet

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

What do you mean, you could go for her yourself? You could go for an 80-year-old chick with rheumatism.


Black Christmas (1974): John Saxon as Lt. Fuller

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John Saxon as Lt. Ken Fuller in Black Christmas (1974)

John Saxon as Lt. Ken Fuller in Black Christmas (1974)

Vitals

John Saxon as Ken Fuller, intrepid police lieutenant

Toronto…or some small American college town near the Canadian border, Christmas 1973

Film: Black Christmas
(U.S. title: Silent Night, Evil Night)
Release Date: October 11, 1974
Director: Bob Clark
Wardrobe Credit: Debi Weldon

Background

The second remake of Bob Clark’s cult holiday horror classic, Black Christmas, was released in theaters today, more than 45 years after the original starring Olivia Hussey, Keir Dullea, Margot Kidder, and John Saxon as police lieutenant Ken Fuller. Clark had changed the script’s original title, Stop Me, to Black Christmas to tap into the irony of such sinister events darkening an otherwise festive holiday. Christmas would prove to be a fruitful source of inspiration for Clark as he would go on to direct the now-classic (and considerably less violent) A Christmas Story (1983).

Black Christmas would become not only a trailblazer in the slasher genre but also an early installment in the burgeoning “holiday horror” subgenre that also included contemporaries like Home for the Holidays (1972) starring Sally Field and Silent Night, Deadly Night (1972) with Patrick O’Neal. Clark got his start with horror cinema in the early 1970s and, after the production of Deathdream, he moved his operations to Canada to take advantage of the substantial tax benefits. His subsequent movie, Black Christmas, hardly disguises its Toronto production with plenty of “oots” and “aboots” and names like Graham and Mrs. MacHenry, though Lieutenant Fuller muddies the issue of setting by keeping an American flag prominently placed on his desk.

The level-headed lieutenant was originally to be played by Edmond O’Brien, though the actor’s failing health due to Alzheimer’s Disease surprised the producers when he showed up on set. With little time to spare, compose Carl Zittrer called John Saxon—an actor 20 years O’Brien’s junior who had already read the script— to offer him in the role, giving Saxon two days to travel from New York City to Toronto to begin shooting.

Inspired by the urban legend of “the babysitter and the man upstairs” as well as an actual series of killings committed by “Vampire Rapist” Wayne Boden around Quebec’s Westmount neighborhood, Black Christmas focuses on a sorority house where, after a series of threatening phone calls, the inhabitants are stalked and murdered by a deranged intruder who takes sadistic delight in picking them off one by one. While few take the threat seriously until it’s too late, the girls have an ally in Ken Fuller, the police lieutenant who balances an easygoing personality with a no-nonsense professionalism as he takes action to try to prevent additional murders.

Black Christmas stirred controversy when it was scheduled to make its televised debut (under the title Stranger in the House) in January 1978, only two weeks after Ted Bundy terrorized the Chi Omega house on FSU’s campus, murdering two women in their sleep in an incident eerily mirroring the events of Black Christmas. (As a compromise, NBC gave its affiliates in Florida, Alabama, and Georgia the option to air Doc Savage: The Man of Bronze instead.) While the film was hardly a critical or box office success when it was released, its reevaluation over the decades since has established it as a cult classic, ranked among Bravo’s 100 Scariest Movie Moments.

What’d He Wear?

While the wardrobe for Black Christmas was credited to Debi Weldon, who also appeared uncredited as one of the sorority sisters, the film’s small budget of around $620,000 meant many actors were encouraged to provide their own clothes for their characters to wear. I’m not sure if Saxon was among the cast members who provided his own clothing, though I liked his earthy ensemble of a large-checked sports coat with an understated shirt, tie, and trousers. Given that some of the elements of his wardrobe, particularly the shirt, overcoat, and hat, are suggestive of an older man, I suspect that Ms. Waldon or someone else from the costume department had originally selected Fuller’s wardrobe for an older actor like Edmond O’Brien to wear.

Patterned in a large-scaled brown-and-black basket-woven check, similar to a broken houndstooth pattern, with a black and green plaid overcheck, Lieutenant Fuller’s single-breasted sport jacket has notch lapels that roll to a two-button front. Due to how the shots are framed, it’s hard to discern other details other than the welted breast pocket and long double vents.

Saxon enjoys a chuckle at the expense of the foolish Sergeant Nash (Doug McGrath).

Saxon enjoys a chuckle at the expense of the foolish Sergeant Nash (Doug McGrath).

Under his jacket, Fuller wears his snubnose revolver holstered under his left armpit in a tan chamois leather shoulder rig with an adjustable white ribbed nylon strap. The holster suspends his piece in the manner similar to the “quickdraw” holster that Steve McQueen famously wore in Bullitt (1968), adapted from the rig worn by his real-life contemporary, the Zodiac-chasing inspector Dave Toschi of the San Francisco Police Department.

BLACK CHRISTMAS

Fuller wisely balances the bold check of his jacket with a subdued shirt, tie, and trousers to avoid the potentially chaotic effect of too many conflicting patterns. His ecru poplin shirt has a spread collar of moderate width, though it looks considerably narrow when compared to the wide collars that were fashionable at the time, during the height of the disco era. The shirt has a plain (French) front and single-button rounded cuffs.

His charcoal tie is divided into uphill-direction stripes by narrow black stripes that have such a low contrast against the charcoal ground that the tie often looks solid at a distance and in certain light. Bronze box shapes are intermittently placed along the tie’s charcoal stripes, adding a touch of tonal coordination with his brown jacket and trousers.

BLACK CHRISTMAS

Fuller wears dark brown straight-leg trousers with frogmouth front pockets, a popular full-top style of trouser pocket that was popular from the 1960s into the ’70s and were particularly flattering with the tight-hipped trousers of the era as they wouldn’t flare open like side pockets. In lieu of a belt, Fuller’s flat front trousers have buckle-tab side adjusters.

BLACK CHRISTMAS

Fuller’s leather lace-up shoes are a lighter brown than the rest of his outfit. Based on the profile of his shoes seen as he approaches Peter Smythe’s piano, they appear to be derby-laced low shoes though any further detail is next to impossible due to the angles available on screen and the lack of production photos showing more of John Saxon’s costume.

BLACK CHRISTMAS

One of my favorite parts of Fuller’s outfit is the dark brown wool bridge coat he wears when he’s out investigating the crimes. This large double-breasted coat originated as a part of military uniforms and was still popular, particularly among officers of European military forces, well into the 20th century. Fuller’s coat has a broad Ulster collar similar to a pea jacket, a full fit without notable waist suppression, and flat black plastic sew-through buttons in parallel columns that characterize the coat as a bridge coat rather than the similar greatcoat which has buttons placed in a keystone formation up to the top.

The traditional bridge coat and greatcoat have been generally eclipsed by shorter, more commute-friendly topcoats like car coats and walkers, though certain fashion houses have maintained this classic style such as Rubinacci with their authentic Italian Casentino wool Ulster coat (via The Rake) and the admittedly short but similarly styled custom coats offered by Hockerty. You can also take a more military approach with the wool greatcoats available from Kent & Curwen, though such a grand coat with its shoulder straps and maritime-inspired gilt buttons needs to be worn with the correct panache to prevent its wearer from looking like Dwight Schrute.

Clad in his bridge coat and gloves, Fuller meets with sorority sisters Jess Bradford (Olivia Hussey) and Phyllis Carlson (Andrea Martin) to get a sense of who may be terrorizing the house.

Clad in his bridge coat and gloves, Fuller meets with sorority sisters Jess Bradford (Olivia Hussey) and Phyllis Carlson (Andrea Martin) to get a sense of who may be terrorizing the house.

Fuller wears a black leather three-point gloves, named for the triple lines of stitching that taper toward the wrist on the dorsal side of each glove.

Fuller's gloves keep him warm during the holiday season while also preventing him from compromising the crime scene with his own fingerprints.

Fuller’s gloves keep him warm during the holiday season while also preventing him from compromising the crime scene with his own fingerprints.

Of all of Lieutenant Fuller’s attire, the dark brown tweed trilby with its pinched crown and self-band seems the most out of place, suggesting that the costume was meant for the much older Edmond O’Brien rather than the younger John Saxon who was still under 40 at the time of the production and a decade beyond the decline of hat-wearing culture among fashionable gents in North America.

BLACK CHRISTMAS

While many aspects of Fuller’s attire aren’t prominently seen on screen, his frequent phone calls give us plenty of time with his silver-toned wristwatch with its light silver round dial. The case and bracelet are likely stainless steel, with the latter resembling the five-piece link “Jubilee” bracelet that Rolex introduced on their Datejust model in 1945.

Is Lieutenant Fuller a Rolex wearer?

Is Lieutenant Fuller a Rolex wearer?

If Fuller’s watch is a Rolex, it was likely the owned property of John Saxon rather than a piece purchased for the production as there would be no reason to purchase a Rolex for the character, even if they were considerably less expensive in the early 1970s, even when accounting for inflation.

What’d Barb Wear?

You’re a real gold-plated whore, Mother, you know that?

I can’t let a discussion of Black Christmas go without a shoutout to the sublime Margot Kidder and her entertaining performance as the brash and boozy Barb, one of the sorority sisters targeted by the mysterious caller. The acerbic alcoholic spends most of her time drinking anything from pulls of Labatt’s 50 ale in the police station to G.H. Mumm champagne straight from the bottle. After Timothy Bond added the university setting at the behest of producers Richard Schouten and Harvey Sherman, Bob Clark added Barb’s constant drunkenness as comic relief, further attracting Kidder to the role “because she was wild and out of control” and eventually winning her a deserved Canadian Film Award for Best Performance by a Lead Actress.

In the opening Christmas party scene, Barb lounges from drink to drink in a barely buttoned blue oxford-cloth button-down shirt, leaving the collar also unbuttoned to lay flat and wide over her shoulders and showcasing a black velvet neckband bedazzled with a shiny brooch reading “YES” from the center of her neck.

"That was fun," Margot Kidder recalled to The AV Club of her time filming Black Christmas. "I really bonded with Andrea Martin, filming in Toronto and Ontario. Olivia Hussey was a bit of an odd one. She was obsessed with the idea of falling in love with Paul McCartney through her psychic. We were a little hard on her for things like that."

“That was fun,” Margot Kidder recalled to The AV Club of her time filming Black Christmas. “I really bonded with Andrea Martin, filming in Toronto and Ontario. Olivia Hussey was a bit of an odd one. She was obsessed with the idea of falling in love with Paul McCartney through her psychic. We were a little hard on her for things like that.”

Barb’s look has tragically dodged iconic status, and I remain hopeful each year to see an attendee at a Halloween party (or, perhaps even more appropriately, a Christmas party) channeling Barb’s insouciant look with a cigarette in one hand and champagne coupe spilling from the other.

The Gun

Outside of his shoulder holster, Lieutenant Fuller’s sidearm is seen only in silhouette, but the elongated ramp-style front sight and secured ejector rod suggest a relatively recent Smith & Wesson revolver chambered in .38 Special and with a 1 7/8″ or 2″ barrel. While the six-shot Smith & Wesson Model 10 “Military & Police” is a possibility, the more compact silhouette suggests the five-shot Smith & Wesson Model 36 “Chiefs Special”, built on Smith & Wesson’s smaller J-frame.

His Smith & Wesson .38 drawn, Fuller hopes to close in on the killer.

His Smith & Wesson .38 drawn, Fuller hopes to close in on the killer.

After Smith & Wesson resumed civilian production following World War II, they recognized the need for a concealable and durable police revolver to contend with the iconic Colt Detective Special snub-nosed revolver that could fire the powerful .38 Special ammunition that had become the standard for American law enforcement. Smith & Wesson’s existing compact I-frame was deemed unsuitable to handle the powerful load, so the manufacturer developed the J-frame for this new revolver, sacrificing one extra slot in the swing-out cylinder to allow it to reliably fire the substantial .38 Special.

The revolver was introduced at the International Association of Chiefs of Police convention in 1950, where the attendees gave it their blessing and voted to christen it “Chiefs Special” (not “Chief’s Special” or “Chiefs’ Special”, mind you.) Though the revolver received its new Model 36 designation when Smith & Wesson began numbering its models later in the decade, the Chiefs Special moniker stuck and remains to this day.

How to Get the Look

John Saxon as Lt. Ken Fuller in Black Christmas (1974)

John Saxon as Lt. Ken Fuller in Black Christmas (1974)

Bold checks were increasingly fashionable during the ’70s, and John Saxon shows how to wear a large-scaled check sport jacket with taste in 1974’s Black Christmas by keeping the rest of his outfit subdued and classic without surrendering to the excess-driven menswear trends of the decade.

  • Brown-and-black basket-woven check (with black and green overcheck) single-breasted 2-button sport jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, and long double vents
  • Ecru poplin shirt with spread collar, plain front, and single-button rounded cuffs
  • Black-on-charcoal uphill-striped tie with bronze box motif
  • Dark brown flat front trousers with buckle-tab side adjusters, frogmouth front pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • Brown leather lace-up shoes
  • Steel wristwatch with round silver dial on steel “Jubilee”-style bracelet
  • Tan chamois leather “quickdraw” shoulder holster with white ribbed nylon suspension strap
  • Dark brown wool double-breasted bridge coat with wide Ulster collar and set-in sleeves with two-button cuffs
  • Dark brown tweed trilby with self-band
  • Black leather three-point gloves

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

Nash, I don’t think you could pick your nose without written instructions.

The V.I.P.s: Richard Burton’s Astrakhan Coat and Holiday Red

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Richard Burton as Paul Andros in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Richard Burton as Paul Andros in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Vitals

Richard Burton as Paul Andros, millionaire industrialist

Heathrow Airport, London, Winter 1963

Film: The V.I.P.s
(also released as Hotel International)
Release Date: September 19, 1963
Director: Anthony Asquith
Costume Designer: Pierre Cardin (uncredited)

Background

As December continues and plans are being made to travel home for the holidays, we’d be well-served to recall Anthony Asquith’s paean to the Jet Age, The V.I.P.s, a lavish and star-studded drama released five years after more passengers were making their transatlantic crossings by air than by sea.

Also known as Hotel InternationalThe V.I.P.s was released in September 1963, just three months after Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton scandalized the silver screen in Cleopatra. Though Cleopatra met with polarizing reviews, the buzz around Taylor and Burton’s illicit affair generated enough buzz about their subsequent cinematic collaboration, though The V.I.P.s was a relatively tame effort when compared to the Egyptian epic that had been the most expensive movie ever made at the time of its release.

It was, in fact, a Hollywood scandal that inspired Terence Rattigan to draft his screenplay, taking cues from his friend Vivien Leigh’s attempt to leave Laurence Olivier and abscond with her lover, Peter Finch. When Leigh and Finch’s flight out of London was delayed by fog, Olivier was able to confront them at the airport and convince Leigh to return home with him.

V.I.P. couple Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor on set in London, circa December 1962.

V.I.P. couple Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor on set in London, circa December 1962.

Though Burton and Taylor had been cheating on their respective spouses with each other, Burton was ironically cast in the Olivier role as the jealous husband while the debonair Louis Jourdan co-starred as Taylor’s paramour. You can read more about this lavish production in Sam Kashner’s 40th anniversary retrospective for Vanity Fair, “A FIrst-Class Affair”.

What’d He Wear?

Acclaimed as a Shakespearean actor who excelled in period productions such as Henry V of England, Hamlet, and King Arthur on the stage and Alexander the Great and Mark Antony on screen, Richard Burton descended onto the tarmac during this century in The V.I.P.s, providing the opportunity for the actor to show off his tailored duds in full Metrocolor.

A client of the esteemed Douglas Hayward in real life, Burton portrays a wealthy and successful magnate who outfits himself in the latest finery though with an eye for timeless taste rather than adhering to trends. Burton’s attire is anchored by a charcoal flannel suit, an undisputed staple of a gentleman’s wardrobe.

A dramatic moment between husband and wife.

A dramatic moment between husband and wife.

The single-breasted suit jacket has lapels of a moderately narrow width that gently roll to the center of his three-button front. The double-vented jacket is rigged with three buttons per cuff.

In addition to the requisite welted breast pocket and flapped hip pockets, Burton’s suit jacket has a flapped ticket pocket above the right hip pocket. This hallmark of English tailoring is quite suitable for Burton’s kit here as his character is, indeed, traveling and could make good use of this pocket for his BOAC boarding pass.

THE VIPS

A shirtmaker’s respective talent can make or break a simple staple like a plain white shirt, so Burton opted for the best by seeking the wares of his usual shirtmaker, the esteemed Frank Foster of London. Frank Foster confirmed via two Instagram posts (in February 2017 and March 2019) that they crafted Burton’s elegant white cotton shirt with its semi-spread collar and double (French) cuffs that he fastens with a set of gold links, each adorned with a silver sphere in the center.

Some consider it gauche for a pocket square to exactly match the color, pattern, and fabric of the necktie, but Paul Andros unapologetically does just that, sporting a crimson silk pocket hank folded into a single point emerging from the welted breast pocket of his jacket. His straight crimson silk tie is held to the chest by a black tie tack.

Evidently, red silk pocket squares are the uniform of Frances Andros' lovers as both Paul and Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan) wear them.

Evidently, red silk pocket squares are the uniform of Frances Andros’ lovers as both Paul and Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan) wear them.

The charcoal suit’s matching trousers are finished with plain hems that break just below the tops of his shoes, a pair of tragically under-showcased black calf double monk shoes that appear to be similar to the ones he was photographed wearing with a similar outfit while escorting Taylor to the June 1963 fight between Muhammad Ali and Henry Cooper and during their 1964 wedding.

A pair of black dress socks cover any exposed leg line between the trouser bottoms and shoe tops.

THE VIPS

Arguably the most distinctive piece of Burton’s wardrobe in The V.I.P.s is Paul Andros’ grand topcoat, a black knee-length affair lined in burgundy silk with a shawl collar made of black astrakhan fur, derived from the pelts of the now-endangered Karakul sheep, native to Central Asia. The most valuable astrakhan was considered to be from newborn or fetal lambs, which produced the tightest and shiniest of this fleece-like fur.

THE VIPS

As Sir Hardy Amies would pen the following year in his seminal sartorial tome, ABC of Men’s Fashion, “Astrakhan used to be used only on the collars of the overcoats of passé actor-managers. Now reappears on the gayest of youthful overcoats and of course as fur hats.” You can read more about the history and process of extracting astrakhan fur in this well-researched piece for The Dreamstress.

When worn closed, Andros’ single-vented coat fastens high on the chest with a three-button single-breasted front. The set-in sleeves are roped at the sleeveheads and finished at the cuffs with a single-button strap.

THE VIPS

Should the astrakhan fur collar prove inadequate for wintry insulation, Andros dons the additional seasonally appropriate layer of a dark red scarf, made of a soft wool that is likely a luxurious cashmere. Fringed at the edges, Andros’ scarf is just a slightly deeper shade of crimson than his tie.

THE VIPS

Paul wears a gold ring with a square diamond-studded face on the third finger of his right hand, though I’m not certain if this is meant to be a character affectation or was Burton’s own property. He also wears a gold square-cased watch on a gold bracelet on his left wrist.

THE VIPS

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, photographed by Everett during their 1964 wedding.

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, photographed by Everett during their 1964 wedding.

The outfit must have been particularly meaningful for Richard Burton, as he wore a similar ensemble—if not the exact same suit, shirt, and tie—for his wedding to Elizabeth Taylor on March 15, 1964… his second wedding and her fifth.

The two were married at the Ritz-Carlton in Montreal, though Burton’s garb tended to be ignored in favor of the actress’ canary yellow “babydoll” dress that was designed by Irene Sharaff, who had also designed the costumes for Cleopatra, the film that brought Burton and Taylor together.

Given their bond through Roman history, the two should have taken greater stock in the fact that the first of their two marriages was on the Ides of March.

The Gun

“I didn’t know people ever really carried these things,” comments Marc after Paul places his FN Model 1910 (“that thing in your pocket”) on the table. It’s a sign of the times that Paul Andros is just casually walking around Heathrow Airport with a loaded handgun… perhaps if The V.I.P.s would be remade today, Paul would be a considered a security threat if he was walking around the terminal carrying toothpaste in a tube larger than three ounces.

Marc Champselle inspects Paul Andros' Browning pistol.

Marc Champselle inspects Paul Andros’ Browning pistol.

Also known as the “Browning Model 1910”, this unique semi-automatic pistol marked a departure for American firearms designer John Browning. Browning had previously enjoyed business on both sides of the Atlantic with Colt Firearms producing his designs in the United States and Fabrique Nationale (FN) of Belgium manufacturing his goods in Europe. As Colt was already producing the wildly successful Model 1903 Pocket Hammerless pistol in both .32 ACP and .380 ACP, the manufacturer ostensibly had no need for Browning’s latest blowback-operated pistol that would be chambered in both calibers. On the other hand, FN was interested in producing Browning’s latest design, so he elected to patent the Model 1910 to be produced exclusively by FN for the European market.

The striker-fired pistol contained the “triple safety” hallmarks of Browning’s designs—namely a grip safety, magazine safety, and external lever—though it differentiated itself from earlier models with an innovative location for a spring surrounding the barrel, a design aspect that would be later found in successful pistols like the Walther PP and PPK and the Makarov PM.

FN Model 1910, serial #530203, currently on display at Morges military museum. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

FN Model 1910, serial #530203, currently on display at Morges military museum. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

The FN Model 1910 was revolutionary both in its design and its execution, used in at least three infamous political assassinations across the early 20th century: Gavrilo Princip and his fellow Black Hand conspirators were armed with .380 ACP Model 1910 pistols when he killed Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife in Sarajevo in June 1914, Paul Gorguloff used one during the assassination of French President Paul Doumer in May 1932, and a .32-caliber Model 1910 was reportedly in Carl Weiss’ hand when he shot Louisiana Governor Huey Long in September 1935.

At the time of the Model 1910’s development, the word “Browning” was virtually synonymous with semi-automatic pistols due to the ubiquity of the designer’s groundbreaking weapons around the world, including its less sophisticated predecessor, the FN Model 1900. First manufactured in October 1912, the FN Model 1910 would be produced until 1983 with several longer-barreled variants introduced across its lifetime. You can read more about the FN Model 1910 and how it compares to the Browning “Old Model” in Ed Buffaloe’s entry for Unblinking Eye.

What to Imbibe

Pay no attention. Drunks cry very easily. It’s only the whisky.

Not unlike the actor potraying him, Paul Andros is often at his most comfortable with a drink in his hand… even when it’s a glass of White Horse that his wife’s lover had brought to her hotel room. Paul later orders yet another glass of White Horse when he’s penning his letter downstairs in the hotel lobby, turning away the soda that is offered along with it.

Paul Andros pours himself a dram.

Paul Andros pours himself a dram.

White Horse blended Scotch whisky was first produced by James Logan Mackie in 1861, a hundred years before it would be famously drank by Jackie Gleason as pool hustler Minnesota Fats in The Hustler (1961) opposite Paul Newman. Bottles of White Horse can also be spied poured by presidential candidate Grant Matthews (Spencer Tracy) in Frank Capra’s State of the Union (1948), and enjoyed without ice by gangster Nicky Grillo (Jamie Grillo) in the fourth episode of Magic City‘s second season. Perhaps as a nod to the whisky’s wartime role as a favorite of the U.S. Army Air Forces’ 467th Bombardment Group, the British spymaster Colonel Cadogan (Julian Glover) drinks a dram of White Horse from a bottle in his office in the underrated World War II espionage series Wish Me Luck.

How to Get the Look

Richard Burton as Paul Andros in The V.I.P.s (1963)

Richard Burton as Paul Andros in The V.I.P.s (1963)

While The V.I.P.s was not explicitly set during the holiday season—indeed, I believe I pinpointed the action to be January—Richard Burton’s charcoal suit and red accessories would be a sleek and unquestionably fashionable alternative to the legions of tartan plaids and ugly Christmas sweaters you’ll doubtlessly encounter at an upcoming holiday function.

  • Charcoal flannel tailored suit:
    • Single-breasted 3-button suit jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets and ticket pocket, 3-button cuffs, and double vents
    • Trousers with plain-hemmed bottoms
  • White cotton shirt with semi-spread collar and double/French cuffs
    • Gold cuff links with silver spherical centers
  • Crimson red silk tie
    • Black tie tack
  • Black calf leather double-monk shoes
  • Black dress socks
  • Black knee-length topcoat with astrakhan fur collar, high single-breasted 3-button fastening, set-in sleeves (with 1-button tab cuffs), and single vent
  • Crimson red cashmere scarf with fringed edges
  • Gold ring with square diamond-studded face
  • Gold square-cased watch on gold bracelet

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

The Quote

With the truth, we don’t have much hope, but with lies, we have none.

Safe travels!

Safe travels!

Indiscreet: Cary Grant’s Christmas Dressing Gown

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Cary Grant as Philip Adams in Indiscreet (1958)

Cary Grant as Philip Adams in Indiscreet (1958)

Vitals

Cary Grant as Philip Adams, sophisticated playboy economist

London, Christmas Eve 1957

Film: Indiscreet
Release Date: June 26, 1958
Director: Stanley Donen
Tailor: Quintino

Background

Merry Christmas, BAMF Style readers! In the spirit of the holidays, let’s continue looking at stylish dressers in “Christmas-adjacent” fare by focusing on that most famously elegant icon, Cary Grant, in what was reportedly the actor’s favorite among his own movies.

Stanley Donen’s 1958 romantic comedy Indiscreet reteamed Grant with Ingrid Bergman a dozen years after the two iconic stars had shared the screen in Hitchcock’s spy thriller Notorious (1946), though the suspense of Indiscreet is less a matter of international espionage and more romantic intrigue with Bergman’s character believing herself to be engaged in a clandestine affair with a married man… though Grant’s Philip Adams only pretends to be married to limit his commitments to the women he can’t resist.

Before she learns his secret, we’re treated to a brief but lush vignette of the couple’s intimate Christmas Eve when she proves to be a thoughtful gift-giver, gifting her paramour a fiddle that recalls the story he told on their first date of the left-handed violinist.

Indiscreet wasn’t Grant’s first cinematic foray into romantic mischief during the holidays, as he had previously played the charming angel Dudley in The Bishop’s Wife (1947) opposite Loretta Young and David Niven a decade earlier, memorably decorating a tree in just a few spectacular seconds.

Don't you wish it was that easy?

Don’t you wish it was that easy?

What’d He Wear?

As opposed to the more function-oriented bathrobes made from a harder-wearing material like cotton, nylon or wool, a traditional dressing gown was established as a more ceremonial garment to be worn by the gentleman at leisure rather than for warmth or to dry off after bathing. Inspired by similar Asian vestments, dressing gowns soon became the de facto “house coat” for gentlemen seeking an additional layer for the intermediate steps of dressing in the morning or undressing in the evening, though this context eventually extended into lounging around one’s own home.

Given the status of its wearers and the context they would wear them, dressing gowns were often made of fine silk with a shawl collar borrowed from the smoking jacket. A refined gent like Philip Adams—or, rather, any character played by Cary Grant—would be expected to have a tasteful dressing gown in his collection to be worn for intimate situations like a couple’s Christmas celebration, worn as one would wear a smoking jacket with shirt, tie, and trousers.

Anna gets the ideal reaction for her Christmas gift when Philip can't help but to leap to his feet and play his new violin.

Anna gets the ideal reaction for her Christmas gift when Philip can’t help but to leap to his feet and play his new violin.

Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman seek to further their indiscretion under the mistletoe.

Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman seek to further their indiscretion under the mistletoe.

Grant wears a full-length dressing gown in burgundy foulard silk with a shawl collar and a wide, tasseled self belt that ties in the front like a sash. The hip pockets and cuffs are detailed with rolled silk piping in solid burgundy. His pajamas are a matching silk, finished on the bottoms with rolled silk piping about an inch or two up the leg similar to the ends of his dressing gown sleeves.

His pale pink cotton shirt tonally coordinates with the overall reddish hues of his outfit, finished with double (French) cuffs and Grant’s usual point collar that he wore to de-emphasize the size of his head and neck, the latter of which made the actor feel particular self-conscious. (And if Cary Grant felt self-conscious about his looks…)

Grant’s dark tie looks solid from a distance, though a closer look reveals what appears to be a repeating series of low-contrast horizontal block stripes. While it’s difficult to discern on my lower-resolution DVD copy of Indiscreet, the duo-tone stripe pattern appears to alternate between black and a dark hunter green… though it may be my seasonal sentimentality that is seeing green. Creative modern neckwear solutions include this knitted tie in navy and green horizontal stripes available via Amazon or this unique “retro-striped” tie in dark green and black via Zazzle.

A glimpse of gold that flashes from Grant’s left wrist suggests that the actor may be wearing his own Cartier Tank, the iconic luxury watch favored by both Hollywood royalty and actual royalty from Clark Gable to Princess Diana.

INDISCREET

Grant’s feet aren’t clearly seen on screen, but one can be almost certain that Philip Adams is wearing black velvet Prince Albert slippers with hard leather soles, de rigueur footwear for gentlemen to wear with silk dressing gowns. The only question is whether or not said slippers were adorned with gold embroidering on the vamps.

How to Get the Look

Cary Grant as Philip Adams in Indiscreet (1958)

Cary Grant as Philip Adams in Indiscreet (1958)

“Christmas jammies” may be popular this time of year, but more elegant celebrations call for the more refined approach offered by a silk dressing gown. If you’re not sure of the difference between a dressing gown and a robe, ask yourself: would Cary Grant wear it with a shirt and tie?

  • Burgundy foulard silk full-length dressing gown with shawl collar, tasseled self-belt, hip pockets, and cuffs detailed with rolled silk piping
  • Pale pink cotton shirt with point collar and double/French cuffs
  • Dark green and black horizontally block-striped tie
  • Burgundy foulard silk pajama trousers
  • Black velvet Prince Albert slippers
  • Cartier Tank gold watch with white rectangular face on black leather strap

The mid-20th century seemed to be the last hurrah of the gentlemen’s silk dressing gown, and the old-fashioned practice of wearing one around the home is all but extinct. Still, several companies persist in manufacturing silk dressing gowns for men, such as this burgundy silk number from Intimo or—should you be interested in a pattern like Cary wears—these relatively untested garments by LONXU or Sidiou Group in a paisley-printed polyester treated to have a silky finish.

If you’re truly seeking to invest in a quality dressing gown, seek a bespoke manufacturer like Daniel Hanson of Nottingham or a trusted clothier with a prestigious heritage that would include the dawn of the dressing gown, such as Turnbull & Asser or Derek Rose.

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie… and may all who celebrate have a very merry Christmas and a healthy, happy, and safe new year!

 

Peter Lawford’s New Year’s Eve Suit in Ocean’s 11

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Peter Lawford as Jimmy Foster in Ocean's Eleven (1960)

Peter Lawford as Jimmy Foster in Ocean’s Eleven (1960)

Vitals

Peter Lawford as Jimmy Foster, resentful profligate heir and 82nd Airborne veteran

Las Vegas, New Year’s Eve 1959

Film: Ocean’s Eleven
Release Date: August 10, 1960
Director: Lewis Milestone
Costume Designer: Howard Shoup
Tailor: Sy Devore

Background

“I made a cardinal rule never to answer the telephone during the month of December,” the urbane Jimmy Foster tells a masseuse deep at work in fixing his back in a Phoenix hotel suite he shares with his wartime pal. “One December, every time I picked up the phone, they’d send me out in the snow to play with my little friends,” he elaborates. “That was at the Bulge.”

Arguably the most famous film featuring the infamous Rat Pack, Ocean’s Eleven starred Frank Sinatra and his celebrated pallies Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford among a group of eleven veterans from the 82nd Airborne who gather in Las Vegas after Christmas “to liberate millions of dollars” from five major casinos as Sin City rings in the new year.

Santa Claus takes Jimmy Foster to task for his holiday crimes.

Santa Claus takes Jimmy Foster to task for his holiday crimes.

Lawford had first heard the idea for the plot from director Gilbert Kay, in turn relaying a story he hard heard from a gas station attendant. The actor then bought the rights to what would become Ocean’s Eleven in 1958, originally envisioning William Holden for the lead, until he shared the story with his new pal Frank Sinatra who would take the leading role of Danny Ocean. The Vegas setting was ideal for Sinatra and his cronies, allowing them to work in the early morning, sleep into the afternoon, perform one or two shows each evening at their respective casinos, then show up on set again ready to work until sunrise.

What’d He Wear?

While Peter Lawford hasn’t achieved the immortal fame of his talented fellow Rat Packers like Frank, Dean, and Sammy, the London-born actor was a stylish fashion plate who showcased a fine sense of dress both on and off screen. Unlike the principals in Ocean’s Eleven, Lawford’s Jimmy Foster rarely wears a suit or odd jacket more than once, the sole exception being a dark gray business suit with a single-breasted, notch-lapel jacket that he wears both in Phoenix and while reconnoitering the Flamingo in Las Vegas.

For the night of the heist itself, Lawford wears arguably the dressiest suit from Jimmy Foster’s wardrobe, a dark navy blue lounge suit with a single-breasted, peak-lapel jacket, likely tailored for Lawford by the Rat Pack’s usual tailor Sy Devore, though Lawford was also a Chipp customer around the same time. Al Castiel III reported for Town & Country in 2017 that Chipp was responsible for Lawford’s clothes on the NBC series The Thin Man, which aired its final episode in June 1959, six months before the release of Never So Few (1959) firmly established Lawford as a member of the Rat Pack.

Frank Sinatra and Peter Lawford sport dark lounge suits edged out in formality only by the dinner suit, though Dean Martin dresses down his famous tux by wearing it with one of his usual button-down collar shirts.

Frank Sinatra and Peter Lawford sport dark lounge suits edged out in formality only by the dinner suit, though Dean Martin dresses down his famous tux by wearing it with one of his usual button-down collar shirts.

Lawford’s single-breasted suit jacket is one of two that he wears rigged with peak lapels in Ocean’s Eleven, reviving a style that emerged in popularity during the roaring ’20s into the 1930s “golden age of menswear”. Per the trending taste of 1960, Lawford’s lapels are of a moderate width, styled with a straight gorge and a collar almost as wide as the lower section of the lapel. The lapels roll to a low two-button stance. A lavender paisley silk pocket square dresses the welted breast pocket of the jacket, which also boasts straight flapped hip pockets, spaced two-button cuffs, and a single vent.

His white cotton shirt has a semi-spread collar, front placket, and double (French) cuffs that he fastens with a set of flat gold rectangular links.

Danny and Jimmy spot something awry after a nearly perfect caper.

Danny and Jimmy spot something awry after a nearly perfect caper.

Lawford wears a sleek slate gray satin silk “skinny” tie, arranged with a half-Windsor knot filling the tie space.

OCEAN'S ELEVEN

The medium rise of Lawford’s trousers is complimented by the lower button stance of his jacket, lengthening the actor’s torso to create more of a laidback “lounge lizard” effect. The double forward-pleated trousers are finished with turn-ups (cuffs) on the bottoms. As we see during Jimmy’s massage during the opening scene, the trousers have buckle-tab side adjusters on the waistband and side pockets, though no back pockets.

When we meet Jimmy lounging under a masseuse's hardworking hands in a Phoenix hotel suite, he appears to be wearing the same trousers that are part of this stylish suit.

When we meet Jimmy lounging under a masseuse’s hardworking hands in a Phoenix hotel suite, he appears to be wearing the same trousers that are part of this stylish suit.

While Jimmy wears a pair of comfortable tan ribbed socks when relaxing in his hotel suite for his massage, he appears to wear black socks when out in Vegas for New Year’s Eve, more tonally appropriate with the full suit and his well-shined black leather oxfords.

Classic Vegas cool.

Classic Vegas cool.

Jimmy’s jewelry includes a gold necklace worn on a thin gold chain and a gold ring on his left pinkie, an affectation shared by fellow Rat Packers Frank and Dean. Peter Lawford wears two different wristwatches in Ocean’s Eleven, the first being a slim all-gold wristwatch with a round case, champagne gold dial, and a black leather strap.

OCEAN'S ELEVEN

Later, Jimmy spends his nights in Las Vegas wearing a gold tank watch with a white square dial, also worn on his left wrist via black leather strap.

Jimmy Foster's tank watch is best seen as he's emptying the safe at the Flamingo on New Year's Eve.

Jimmy Foster’s tank watch is best seen as he’s emptying the safe at the Flamingo on New Year’s Eve.

The maker of this latter watch isn’t easily discerned by what’s seen on screen, though Lawford’s third wife Deborah Gould recalled that, upon first meeting their actor three weeks before their July 1976 wedding, he commented to her that “You can’t be all that bad. You’re dressed in black, you have a gold Quaalude, and you have a Cartier tank watch.”

What to Imbibe

While the interesting-sounding drink unfortunately never featured on screen in Ocean’s Eleven, some Googling informs us that Peter Lawford supposedly enjoyed the Preview cocktail in real life, talking several Vegas bartenders through the process of making them.

According to Cocktailians and Chuck Taggart at Gumbo Pages, begin by swirling a quarter teaspoon of pastis—preferably Ricard though Pernod and Herbsaint are also acceptable—around the inside of a chilled cocktail glass to coat it, then pouring out the excess. Next, shake 1.5 ounces of gin and an ounce of Cointreau with cracked ice in a cocktail shaker and, once chilled, strain it into the pastis-coated and still-chilled cocktail glass with “a long, curly twist of orange peel” to garnish.

A serious-looking Jimmy Foster appears to be drinking a highball. One can only imagine the fun he'd be having if there was a Preview cocktail before him instead!

A serious-looking Jimmy Foster appears to be drinking a highball. One can only imagine the fun he’d be having if there was a Preview cocktail before him instead!

How to Get the Look

Peter Lawford as Jimmy Foster in Ocean's Eleven (1960)

Peter Lawford as Jimmy Foster in Ocean’s Eleven (1960)

Peter Lawford’s dark blue lounge suit, just a shade lighter than midnight blue, is a tasteful alternative to a dinner suit, particularly when appointed for evening wear with a white shirt and a solid yet subdued tie. In an era where even the most well-made tuxedo often looks out of place, an evening-friendly suit like this can’t fail for a New Year’s Eve celebration.

  • Midnight blue tailored suit:
    • Single-breasted 2-button suit jacket with peak lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, spaced 2-button cuffs, and single vent
    • Double forward-pleated trousers with buckle-tab side adjusters, side pockets, and turn-ups/cuffs
  • White cotton shirt with semi-spread collar, front placket, and double/French cuffs
    • Gold flat rectangular cuff links
  • Dark slate gray satin silk tie
  • Black leather cap-toe oxfords
  • Black dress socks
  • Thin gold necklace
  • Gold pinky ring
  • Gold wristwatch on black leather strap
  • Lavender paisley silk pocket square

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie and also look into picking up Lawford’s personal copy of the script!

The Apartment: Jack Lemmon’s New Suit and Bowler

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Jack Lemmon as C.C. Baxter in The Apartment (1960)

Jack Lemmon as C.C. Baxter in The Apartment (1960)

Vitals

Jack Lemmon as C.C. “Bud” Baxter, mild-mannered insurance accountant

New York City, Christmas Eve through New Year’s Eve 1959

Film: The Apartment
Release Date: June 30, 1960
Director: Billy Wilder
Men’s Wardrobe: Forrest T. Butler (uncredited)

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

The Apartment stars one of my favorite actors, Jack Lemmon, as bored, lonely office drone Calvin Clifford Baxter who, after nearly four years at the toxic Manhattan insurance company where he works (“one of the top five in the country!” he boasts), manages to climb the corporate ladder by lending out his West 67th Street apartment to his superiors for their extramarital affairs… though many of them don’t regard him any higher than “some schnook who works in the office.”

Still, Baxter’s behavior gains him the attention of personnel director Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), whom Jeremy Arnold suggests in TCM’s Christmas in the Movies could have been a 20-year flash forward of who Walter Neff would have turned out to be, had he survived the events of Double Indemnity. The smooth Sheldrake promotes Baxter into an executive position in exchange for exclusive use of the timid young accountant’s apartment for trysts with his own secret mistress.

Embracing his position as “second youngest executive in this company,” Baxter continues his charmingly nervous pursuit of the quick-witted elevator operator Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), only to learn during the company’s Christmas Eve party that the object of his affection is one of the many women in the office who have been duped into affairs with the married Sheldrake.

You can almost hear Dean Martin’s “The Christmas Blues” as Baxter takes his heartbreaking revelation—courtesy of Fran’s telltale shattered mirror—and heads to a cheap Columbus Avenue watering hole, where he attempts to drown his sorrows in more than a half-dozen martinis. The joint is filled with holiday revelers, including a thirsty Santa Claus (Hal Smith, best known as Otis from The Andy Griffith Show) who demands a quick shot of bourbon as “my sleigh is double-parked!”, though Bud Baxter’s contagious sadness instantly rubs off on our bearded merry-maker, and he departs without his desired whiskey.

C.C. Baxter's depression is even enough to deflate Santa Claus' holiday spirit.

C.C. Baxter’s depression is even enough to deflate Santa Claus’ holiday spirit.

Luckily, Baxter finds his partner in misery for the evening in the form of Margie MacDougall (Hope Holiday), the rum-guzzling wife of a jailed jockey who engages our hero in small talk about “Castro… that big shot down in Cuba with the crazy beard,” as “O Come All Ye Faithful” serenades them from the jukebox.

Margie: Where do we go, my place or yours?
Baxter (checks his watch): Might as well go to mine. Everybody else does.

Billy Wilder’s direction, the screenplay he co-wrote with I.A.L. Diamond, and the bravura Academy Award-nominated performances of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine perfectly balance the lines of dark comedy and romantic melodrama to deliver a thoughtful and witty character study of two broken people, both tortured to the point of self-loathing and invisible in the booming postwar society except for the ways in which they can advance the wishes of “takers” with more power than them… and both finally able to break free from their self-destructive impulses by supporting the other with one of my favorite movie endings of all time.

"Shut up and deal."

“Shut up and deal.”

What’d He Wear?

The Apartment begins on November 1, 1959, when—as we learn via narration—there were 8,042,783 people living in New York City. One of these millions is Calvin Clifford “Bud” Baxter, who spends his nine-to-five (and often longer) trudging through life “on the 19th floor, ordinary policy department, premium accounting division, section W, desk number 861” for Consolidated Life, the national insurance corporation where he’s worked for the last three years and ten months… but who’s counting?

According to Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond’s screenplay, our quintessential office drone is “thirty, serious, hardworking, unobtrusive. He wears a Brooks Brothers-type suit, which he bought somewhere on Seventh Avenue, upstairs.” Baxter makes good use of this suit, as going home to change would often mean interrupting one of the illicit assignations his sleazy co-workers have arranged in Baxter’s apartment. Eventually, this inconvenient business arrangement pays out for Baxter, who accepts Sheldrake’s promotion to the position of “second administrative assistant” and its associated perk of an actual office.

Naturally, the promotion also means an increase in pay from Baxter’s previous $94.70 per week and his style evolves with his success. Wilder and Diamond also took care to describe Baxter’s updated look for Consolidated Life’s office party on Christmas Eve:

Bud comes shouldering his way out of the crowded cubicle, holding aloft two paper cups filled with booze. Since his promotion he has bought himself a new suit, dark flannel, and with it he wears a white shirt with a pinned round collar, and a foulard tie. He also has quite a glow on. Detouring past necking couples, he heads in the direction of the elevators.

THE APARTMENT

The dark flannel suit in question has a barely discernible hairline stripe. The long single-breasted jacket is rigged with notch lapels that fold over the top button for a 3/2-roll. The sleeveheads are roped, and each sleeve is finished with two non-functioning buttons spaced apart on each cuff, a trend that was particularly fashionable in American tailoring of the early 1960s.

In addition to a single vent in the back and straight flapped hip pockets, the jacket has a welted breast pocket where Baxter either clips a pen or tucks away a few well-sharpened pencils in lieu of the traditional pocket square.

C.C. Baxter models his latest fineries for an unenthused Miss Kubelik.

C.C. Baxter models his latest fineries for an unenthused Miss Kubelik.

The flat front suit trousers have a lower rise than the natural waist-high trousers that had been de rigueur for decades prior, though they fall lower on Baxter’s waist over the course of his consecutive holiday bacchanals and his subsequent all-nighter keeping an eye on a convalescing Fran. His trousers are worn with a dark leather belt with a single-prong buckle.

THE APARTMENT

One prominent part of Baxter’s “Brooks Brothers-type” wardrobe that he left behind after his promotion was his rotation of button-down collar shirts. As stipulated by Wilder’s screenplay, Baxter spends much of the 1959 holiday season in a white cotton shirt with both rounded leaves of the club collar pinned together with a “safety pin”-style collar bar.

These natty pins, available on Amazon if you’d like to give them a shot, can technically be worn with any shirt though it’s recommended to wear a shirt where the collar has been manufactured with an eyelet already cut into each leaf. Pinned collars are also an “all or nothing” type look; if you’re going to wear a shirt and tie with a pinned collar, you’d best keep the shirt buttoned to the top and the tie tightened or risk the incomplete look of a haphazardly hanging collar bar.

After the day that C.C. Baxter's had, I wouldn't be too concerned about how my shirt collar was looking either.

After the day that C.C. Baxter’s had, I wouldn’t be too concerned about how my shirt collar was looking either.

At the height of his stardom, Frank Sinatra was rarely seen in anything less than a pinned collar and tie, and the style icon earned his status by keeping both perfectly in place while in the public eye. Baxter, on the other hand, has less experience or interest in the sartorial arts and treats his pinned collar like his usual button-down collars, unfastening the top button and loosening his tie (and thus, his collar bar) at the end of his decidedly rough day.

In addition to the pinned club collar, Baxter’s shirt has a front placket, single-button rounded cuffs, and a breast pocket detailed with a pointed yoke, a pocket that comes in handy when he decides to hide the razor in his bathroom cabinet from a suicidal Fran.

A frazzled Baxter fields one of many calls to and from his apartment, this one to Sheldrake as the executive plays family man on Christmas.

A frazzled Baxter fields one of many calls to and from his apartment, this one to Sheldrake as the executive plays family man on Christmas.

Baxter’s dark foulard-patterned tie epitomizes the “skinny tie” fad associated with the early 1960s that enjoyed a revival a decade ago as the early seasons of Mad Men aired. Not only does Baxter wear the tie without a pin, tack, bar, or clip to keep it in place, but there appears to be no keeper loop to hold the tail in place. As Baxter loosens up, his free-flailing tie flips around in one shot to reveal a glimpse of the manufacturer’s white label, vertically positioned along the inside of the blade.

As Baxter enjoys one final moment of drunken bliss before it turns to drunken misery, also note his Chesterfield hanging on the coat rack between him and Fran.

As Baxter enjoys one final moment of drunken bliss before it turns to drunken misery, also note his Chesterfield hanging on the coat rack between him and Fran.

“Miss Kubelik, I would like your honest opinion,” Baxter nervously chatters, having escorted the young elevator operator back to his office only to find yet another couple using it for a makeout session… even at work, Baxter isn’t free from strangers taking amorous advantage of his personal space.

Oblivious to Fran’s melancholia, he pulls out a hatbox, continuing, “I’ve had this under my desk for a week. Cost me fifteen dollars! I haven’t been able to get up enough nerve to wear it.” He turns to face her, bug-eyed and topped with a black bowler hat. “It’s what they call the junior executive model… what do you think?” Unable to read her blank stare, he internalizes that “I guess I made a boo-boo, huh?”

Finally, she musters, “I like it,” and he explodes with excitement: “Really? You wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with somebody wearing a hat like this?” He continues on, still completely ignorant to her emotions, suggesting that “the three of us [are] goin’ out tonight: you, me and, the bowler! We’ll stroll down Fifth Avenue, sorta break it in.”

Baxter proudly shows off his "junior executive" bowler.

Baxter proudly shows off his “junior executive” bowler.

Baxter’s shoes are presumably the same wingtip derby brogues he had worn throughout the movie, best seen when he is knocked down by Fran’s brother-in-law in front of his Christmas tree after an aborted yuletide dinner with Fran. While dark brown leather is a possibility, I would expect Baxter’s shoes—and belt, for that matter—to be black.

Despite how high his corporate position has risen, Baxter finally takes stock of how low his moral position has fallen... and recognizes the obvious correlation.

Despite how high his corporate position has risen, Baxter finally takes stock of how low his moral position has fallen… and recognizes the obvious correlation.

Given the chilly December air of a New York Christmas, Baxter layers a classic Chesterfield coat over his suit. “One of the most basic of twentieth century overcoat styles,” wrote Hardy Amies of the venerable Chesterfield in ABC of Men’s Fashion, published four years after The Apartment was released. “It was originated by the Earl of Chesterfield in the middle of the nineteenth century. Then, it was single-breasted, close-fitting and shaped at the waist, velvet-collared and very long, often down to the ankles.” Sir Hardy goes on to explain the Chesterfield’s natural evolution into single- and double-breasted styles with the one hard rule for a genuine Chesterfield to be “the conventional type of semi-fitted town coat with set-in sleeves,” as opposed to the looser raglan coat.

Baxter’s dark overcoat indeed fits the criteria for a traditional Chesterfield, right down to the velvet collar on the notch lapels. “A contrasting fabric collar—most often velvet…is a hallmark of the dressier Chesterfield coat that’s best for formal occasions and evening wear,” described Esquire‘s The Handbook of Style, providing a more contemporary context. While Chesterfields have long been appropriate outerwear for evening attire, they would have still been acceptable in mid-century America over a tasteful lounge suit worn for business or an evening out.

Baxter’s knee-length coat has three buttons on the single-breasted, covered-fly front and two vestigal buttons spaced apart at the end of each set in sleeve. The back is split with a single vent, and the two large hip pockets are each covered with a straight flap. A brief shot of Baxter removing the coat in his office flashes the manufacturer’s label stitched below the inner right pocket.

Baxter shows off for Margie.

Baxter shows off for Margie.

Baxter protects his martini-drinking hands on Christmas Eve with a pair of light-colored leather three-point gloves that he smoothly removes upon escorting Margie back up to his apartment.

Nearly a week later, two days before New Year’s Eve, an indignant Baxter storms into the Consolidated Life offices in his new suit and its usual accompaniments in addition to a pair of dark-framed sunglasses, tactfully oversized to conceal his freshly obtained black eye, courtesy of Fran’s brother-in-law Karl. The shape of his eyewear is a mix between the traditional wayfarer and the more feminine “cat eye” frame that was popular during the era, flaring out at the temples for greater ocular coverage.

Getting ready to read Sheldrake the riot act, Baxter is stunned to learn that he's actually being promoted to assistant director... landing him a position on the coveted 27th floor.

Getting ready to read Sheldrake the riot act, Baxter is stunned to learn that he’s actually being promoted to assistant director… landing him a position on the coveted 27th floor.

Baxter wears a simple wristwatch throughout the movie, a classic metal dress watch with a large light-colored round dial on a dark leather strap.

The telltale compact... Fran is oblivious to the implications when Bud recognizes the cracked compact she handed him to admire his "junior executive" bowler.

The telltale compact… Fran is oblivious to the implications when Bud recognizes the cracked compact she handed him to admire his “junior executive” bowler.

once again, he wears the exact same suit on new year’s eve (when sheldrake tells him he’s working too hard and needs to relax!) … when sheldrake demands his apartment key again, baxter quits his job on the spot, quitting the ‘junior executive’ bowler that went with it by plopping it on the head of a janitor as he boards the elevator to leave the building one last time

What to Imbibe

At Consolidated Life’s “swingin’ party on the 19th floor” to celebrate the holidays, C.C. Baxter works up enough liquid courage to approach Fran for the first time in six weeks, taking her by the arm to escort her into the party that he describes as the scene of “human sacrifices… white-collar workers tossed into the computing machines and punched full of those little square holes.”

“How many drinks did you have?” an amused Fran inquires. “Three,” he responds, holding up four fingers. “I thought so…” she laughs.

But if Baxter thought he was drinking before, he has a whole lot of drinking ahead of him, drowning the sorrows of his latest revelation about Fran’s secret love life. At a nearby watering hole, he keeps track of his seven (and counting!) martinis by placing each olive-impaled toothpick in a circle like spokes on a wheel.

THE APARTMENT

When we the audience find Baxter at the bar, there are already six toothpicks in front of him, but the martini in his hand puts him one ahead of the amount that William Powell’s Nick Charles had prescribed for Christmas Eve in The Thin Man and one ahead of the six that an insomniac James Bond (Daniel Craig) would imbibe when trying to forget a betrayal in Quantum of Solace.

Baxter’s sadness may have scared off Santa, but he attracts a kindred soul in Margie MacDougall. “You buy me a drink, I’ll buy you some music,” she offers, setting her glass down. “Rum collins.”

After considering the offer, Baxter agrees and gets the bartender’s attention: “Uh, rum collins, and another of these mothers,” bringing his grand total for the evening up to eight martinis… not to mention the multiple times he refilled his Dixie cup of booze at the office party.

We've all been there, Baxter.

We’ve all been there, Baxter.

We don’t know if Baxter prefers gin or vodka for his martinis at the bar, though he does cycle through bottles of Smirnoff “Red Label” vodka at his apartment, which guys like Al Kirkeby request for their own extra dry martinis. Baxter also keeps a bottle of champagne for his solitary New Year’s Eve observance, though the sound of the cork popping off camera fools both the audience and a nearby Miss Kubelik into thinking our lonely protagonist was acting on his more tragic self-destructive impulses. Which brings us to…

The Gun

While the spies and detectives littering the posts of BAMF Style are expected to carry and use at least one firearm in their cinematic adventures, it may be a surprise for some to see this category in play for the timid accountant played by Jack Lemmon.

C.C. Baxter first mentions his gun when discussing his attempted suicide years earlier when he felt hopeless after falling madly in love with his friend’s wife:

I went to a pawnshop and I bought a .45 automatic and I drove up to Eden Park… hey, you know Cincinnati?

Unable to go through with shooting himself in the head, mouth, or heart, he settled for his left thigh… firing the pistol by accident when trying to hide the piece from a police car pulling up beside him.

THE APARTMENT

With minutes to spare in the movie itself, we find a melancholy Baxter packing up his apartment on New Year’s Eve. He pulls open a drawer above the mantle, pulling out a large semi-automatic that is undoubtedly the .45 from his story. In the short screen time we get with the gun, it appears to be a standard Colt Government Model, likely an early Colt M1911 before the M1911A1 was developed in the 1920s, evident by the pre-A1 extended trigger.

How to Get the Look

As he works his way up the corporate ladder, C.C. Baxter affects the look of a traditional London gentleman with his bowler, Chesterfield, and fussy shirt collar, evolving his style beyond the rumpled all-American look of a well-traveled raincoat, button-down collar, and striped repp tie that he barely had to loosen before settling down on his couch with a TV dinner.

Jack Lemmon as C.C. Baxter in The Apartment (1960)

Jack Lemmon as C.C. Baxter in The Apartment (1960)

  • Dark flannel hairline-striped suit, likely in a traditional business color like charcoal gray or navy blue:
    • Single-breasted 3/2-roll jacket with notch lapels, welted breast pocket, straight flapped hip pockets, spaced 2-button cuffs, and single vent
    • Flat front trousers with belt loops, side pockets, two back pockets, and plain-hemmed bottoms
  • White cotton shirt with pinned club collar, front placket, breast pocket, and single-button rounded cuffs
    • Safety pin-style collar bar
  • Dark foulard slim tie
  • Black leather belt with single-prong buckle
  • Black leather wingtip derby brogues
  • Black dress socks
  • Black felt bowler hat with black grosgrain silk band
  • Dark wool single-breasted Chesterfield overcoat with notch lapels and velvet collar, covered-fly 3-button front, straight flapped hip pockets, 2-button cuffs, and single vent
  • Light-colored leather three-point gloves
  • Oversized dark plastic-framed sunglasses
  • Plain wristwatch with white round dial on dark leather strap

Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie. Joseph LaShelle was deservedly Oscar-nominated for Best Cinematography (Black-and-White) in an era that was increasingly converting to color photography, working in tandem with the jazzy score to heighten the noir-like aspects of the film that served to enhance the dark comedy of The Apartment.

Also nominated for Academy Awards were Jack Lemmon (Best Actor), Shirley MacLaine (Best Actress), and Best Sound (Gordon E. Sawyer), with the film ultimately winning Best Picture, Best Director, Best Writing (Original Screenplay), Best Film Editing, and Best Art Direction/Set Direction (Black-and-White).

The Quote

Well… that’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise.

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