Put This On

Keep It Simple, Stupid.

I was watching The Odd Couple the other night, and I was struck by a question: why does Walter Matthau look so good?

If you haven’t seen the film, see it. It’s hilarious. It’s a famous cultural archetype for a reason: because it is so great. You need to know a little background to catch what I’m pitching, though.

In the opening sequence, Jack Lemmon’s character, Felix, tries to commit suicide, and fails, only because he throws out his back trying to open the window he’d planned to throw himself through. He ends up at his friend Oscar’s house - that’s Matthau - mid-poker game, and the place is disgusting. There’s no A/C, and everyone’s a mess and the place is a mess and things are just a mess in general.

Felix is a compulsive neatnik. Oscar is a slob. That’s the Odd Couple part of the story.

So that’s why Felix looks sharp, if conservative. He’s the kind of guy who puts on a tie to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. And Oscar’s the opposite - wearing the most casual clothes of the day.

But in that opening sequence, Matthau, as Oscar, looks fantastic. As a slob. And I wondered why.

There are two reasons. The first is that Walter Matthau wasn’t a movie star for nothing. He’s immensely charismatic, very handsome (though not traditionally so) and spectacularly charming. I can advise you to work on that in your spare time, but this is a style blog, so I’ll get to the next bit now.

His clothes are simple.

What’s he wearing? Canvas sneakers, high-waisted, military-style chinos, a heathered gray t-shirt, and a Mets hat.

Almost all neutral colors, almost no patterns. No “statement pieces” (other than the ballcap). No words. No pictures. It’s the t-shirt outfit, as appropriate in 1962 as in 2012, fifty years later. And the man looks tremendous.

(And thank God it’s not a Yankees hat. That’s just irredeemable.)

Having a moment: vintage mountaineering gear!

“Tennis Anyone?”

via BigHappyFunhouse

Scott Adams of Abandoned Republic just added some more great catalog graphics from Banana Republic back when it was Banana Republic (seller of safari-inspired adventure clothing), not Banana Republic (seller of Eurotrash-inspired business casual clothing). Love this blog.

Are you man enough to fill it?

(Thanks, Corey)

The crew of the Terra Nova expedition to the South Pole, 1910-1912, led by Captain Robert Falcon Scott. From The Lost Photographs of Captain Scott.

via

Vox Sartoria takes on the issue of formal pumps with black tie.

I’ve worn both oxfords and pumps with black tie in the past, and the latter is my strong preference. Vox is correct: as part of a full black tie ensemble, they are elegant, and not feminine at all.

This is the picture I’m taking to my tailor when I get my Donegal tweed made up.

David Saxby & Old Hat

On my recent trip to the UK, I had the good fortune to spend a couple of days in London, and I decided to head out to what I’d heard was the best vintage store in town: Old Hat. It’s on the Fulham High Street, which is about a half-hour train ride from the center of town, but it certainly delivers on its promise.

It’s actually more of a complex than a shop, with three storefronts - men’s vintage, women’s vintage and a made-to-measure gallery. Old Hat is a classic vintage shop, with racks and racks of dusty tailored clothing, ranging from the perfectly good (ready-to-wear Daks) to the fantastic (Savile Row bespoke). The lower level looks like the basement where your elementary school held gym class when it was raining, with pipes running here and there and halogen torchieres providing the light. My kind of place, in other words.

It’s the kind of spot where there are piles of trousers for day formal on top of the counter, and fifteen or twenty feet of rack space dedicated to evening wear. The staff is lovely and pleasant, and while I went home empty-handed, it was a blast to visit the store.

Even more of a blast was connecting with the owner of the place, David Saxby. Saxby was behind at the counter at the made-to-measure shop that bears his name. It’s filled to the brim with classic country clothes in bulletproof tweeds. There are stacks of sock garters and piles of driving caps on every surface. Saxby himself is a charming and fascinating host.

He told me he got into vintage clothes after a stint as a camera dealer (before that, he’d been a professional photographer). When he wanted more country clothes than he could buy second-hand, he started contracting with English manufacturers to make them for his customers. One by one, the manufacturers shut their doors, until David found himself buying the plant and hiring the staff of the last. Now, his factory, an hour or so outside London, makes the kind of rare breed clothes you really can’t find anywhere else, short of bespoke.

When I was there, David was wearing a preposterously loud country ensemble, and he looked spectacular. His manner matched his look - sharp, funny and very slightly outrageous. We discussed suit silhouettes (he only makes one and three-button coats), Fred Astaire (he says if Fred Astaire wore a butonniere with a pocket square, then it’s right, because Fred Astaire is Fred Astaire), the best American factory-made suits (that’s Oxxford, if you’re keeping track) and more. I’d meant to get back on the train and hit another shop before heading back to my wife and baby, but between the conversation and digging in Old Hat, I ended up in Fulham for two hours.

If you’re in London, or making a trip, be sure to stop by and say “hi.” You’ll enjoy the experience.

Abandoned Republic: a blog dedicated to pre-GAP Banana Republic.

(via Archival Clothing)

Banana Republic was originally a surplus vendor, then started to make reproduction surplus goods, then original designs. They were purchased by GAP in the early 80s (both were Bay Area-based) and transformed over the course of ten or fifteen years into the metrosexual mecca they are today.

Whether you’re already a fan of early BR or not, the book they put out in 1986 is a great read.