On Thursday evening writer-director Whit Stillman, auteur of the Preppydämmerung film “Metropolitan,” will host a screening at “online movie theater” Constellation.tv.
Through online chat the fillmmaker will answer viewer questions and will also present the trailer from his upcoming movie “Damsels In Distress.”
The viewing costs $3.99 and the Wall Street Journal has this handy write-up of what Constellation online screenings are like. See you in the back row. — CC
On Sunday night, HBO finished up its second season of the loosely historic “Boardwalk Empire,” the hit period drama by Martin Scorsese and Mark Wahlberg starring Steve Buscemi. Overflowing with illegal scotch and homicidal blood, the program was nominated for 18 Emmys this year.
Focusing on Atlantic City organized crime at the dawn of Prohibition, the cast is decked out. The male characters’ dress ranges from the flamboyance of Jay Gatsby to post-World War I working-man tweeds reminiscent of recent workwear fashions. There are plenty of three-piece suits, bow ties, straw boaters and fedoras, collar pins and carnations, and lush woolen fabrics. “Boardwalk” is a great reminder that whatever was in fashion once will be in again — unless, of course, it never fell out of taste to begin with.
With the pilot alone costing $18 million, no penny was left unspent and no historical stone unturned, demonstrating an incredible attention to detail. According to Variety, the costume designer John Dunn (nominated for a 2011 Emmy for his work), “hit the research libraries at FIT [Fashion Institute of Technology]… went to the Brooklyn Museum, the Met,” and “just completely immersed [him]self in 1920.” Martin Greenfield supplies the tailoring.
This season’s penultimate episode, airing December 4th to 2.97 million viewers, was no exception in the fashion detail department. This episode depicted the backstory of one the show’s main characters, Jimmy Darmody, a Princeton dropout who enlisted to be a doughboy after beating up one of his philandering young professors. (The episode is aptly titled “Under God’s Power She Flourishes,” from the university’s motto.)
Before Darmody’s booze-fuelled, belligerent mistake, there are a couple of classroom and social-season scenes providing a well executed take on pre-Great War Ivy fashion.
In October, HBO renewed “Boardwalk” for a third season that will air sometime next year. — PHILLIP R. PINEGAR
Phillip R. Pinegar is a Hoosier working and living on Capitol Hill. A recent graduate of Taylor University, Pinegar was raised on Brooks, Bond, Maker’s and the Bible.
Just five years ago, 1965 photo book “Take Ivy” was a rarity. Most sat proudly on the book shelves of Ivy fans in Japan, with a few battered copies showing up time to time on Japanese auction sites for absurd prices. But now thanks to Men’s Club and powerHouse Books’ recent reprints, T. Hayashida’s photos of Ivy League students and their classic style have become available to everyone.
There remains, however, one part of the “Take Ivy” story still confined to the realm of myth and shadow: a 16mm film taken of the campuses in conjunction with the photos.
Mystery solved? The latest issue of Oily Boy — a seasonal fashion publication for Baby Boomer guys — includes eight whole minutes of Take Ivy film footage in a DVD insert. The eight minutes, mostly from Dartmouth college, show college students in late spring riding around on bikes, attending class, eating at a cafeteria, and rowing, all to a soundtrack from jazz legend Hachidai Nakamura. Rather than straight documentary, many of the segments have narrative frames and appear to have been staged for the camera.
Despite the limited footage, the film does achieve its main goal of capturing the style of elite students in the U.S. We see university stripe button-down oxford shirts, light khakis, and madras galore. The 16mm, however, tends to capture a wider set of people than Hayashida’s carefully framed snaps, so you see some less than canonical looks: bare feet, red baseball jerseys, hooded sweatshirts, etc. Some of the students actually look as slovenly as current Ivy Leaguers — the only difference being that you don’t see students smoking in section anymore. The professors and adults meanwhile are the ones in tweed jackets, rep ties, bow ties, and Shetland sweaters. Maybe they’re the true fashion icons for our current fashion epoch.
Last year I had talked about the film with Shosuke Ishizu, son of legendary VAN founder Kensuke Ishizu. He confirmed that director Ozawa Kyo shot it simultaneously while Hayashida took the photos. Apparently there is almost two hours of footage, which besides the jazz score, included some voice-overs that explain what is happening on screen. The film does exist in 16mm format (VAN’s copy was heavily damaged but they have recently discovered a cleaner version), but the Oily Boy DVD is a muddy video tape transfer. I am guessing it comes from the VHS version, which was made for VAN employees at some point in the 1980s. Ishizu said that there were still some legal rights issues with the Nakamura soundtrack that prevented a full-out DVD release. Even when they show the film to Ivy meet-ups in Tokyo these days, they just play the VHS.
The entire point of producing the Take Ivy film was to have promotional footage for the VAN brand to explain Ivy League style to its dedicated retailers across Japan. To that end, they debuted the film at a a giant party held for their distributors and retailers in August 1965, renting out the entire Asasaka Prince Hotel. They then took the film on tour across Japan; the local VAN retailer would set up a venue, and the VAN guys brought the film and a band to do a live score. (Here’s an invite for one held in Osaka.)
Included in the Oily Boy DVD is also a short present-day discussion between two of the men behind Take Ivy — the aforementioned Shosuke Ishizu and Toshiyuki Kurosu, the young employee at VAN who pushed VAN into a youth-oriented Ivy style direction. A few of their memories:
• They set out on May 23, 1965 to shoot the Ivy league schools over two weeks, but ended up not getting to Cornell and U. Penn at all.
• They spent most time at Dartmouth and found it the most welcoming. Kurosu conjectures that it was because the school had just done a “Japan Week” and was also the alma mater of Olympic skier Chiharu Igaya.
• The timing of the shoot was summer vacation, so not many people were around. But the Dartmouth crew coach kindly set up the entire rowing sequence just for them to film.
• They were most impressed with the school cafeterias, as that self-service food style had not come to Japan yet.
• They were also shocked with how casual the students’ style was: untucked shirts, sneakers with no socks. At the time being fashionable as a Japanese youth meant wearing a suit and carrying an umbrella.
• Kurosu came up with the title “Take Ivy” from the Dave Brubeck album “Take Five,” but Paul Hasegawa, who is fluent in English and worked with them at VAN, complained that the pun would make no sense to native speakers. Kurosu admits that his complete lack of English ability allowed him to come up with that name.
• When the brand VAN was getting into trouble with the Tsukiji police for instigating the Miyuki-zoku youth culture, Kurosu went to the police station and showed the “Take Ivy” film to the cops. They ended up liking it and set up a venue for them so they could show it to the Miyuki-zoku kids, and then to get Ishizu of VAN to tell the troublesome kids to stop hanging out in Ginza.
It’s worth remembering that Ishizu, Hayashida, and Kurosu were pushing something very radical at the time in Japan. VAN took a massive bet re-tooling their brand in the mid-1960s from a traditional adult suits brand to the Ivy look. They had a lot of commercial pressure to create these authentic photos and films to win over the Japanese public, as well as stockists, distributors, and retailers. The project ended up being a huge success — and Ivy league style basically invented an entire “youth fashion” market in Japan that remains vibrant to this days. What they didn’t quite know at the time is that this very commercial mission to the U.S. would end up creating one of the most critical archival materials of Ivy League fashion nearly a half-century later. — W. DAVID MARX
W. David Marx is a writer living in Tokyo whose work has appeared in GQ, Brutus, Nylon, and Best Music Writing 2009, among other publications. He is currently Chief Editor of web journal Néojaponisme and formerly an editor of Tokion and the Harvard Lampoon.
If you’re a sucker for the “Mad Men” vibe of cool dudes, sexy chicks and midcentury style, you should really check out “Playboy’s Penthouse,” Hugh Hefner’s variety show from the early days of his budding Playboy empire. Episodes are available on DVD, including through Netflix.
The episodes were taped in a party atmosphere that brought together a cross section of fashionable society (the kind of crowd seen in our post “A Swellegant, Elegant Party“), and adult music (jazz, vocalists) that’s a far cry from the musical acts featured on today’s late-night shows.
And then there’s everybody smoking, including the singers while they perform. Is smoking glamorous? Don’t be daft: Of course it is.
In a February 1960 episode, a young beauty from Hef’s harem asks him about the turnback cuffs on his dinner jacket. Hefner, who had previously donned the Ivy League Look, proceeds to bore the girl to death with a dissertation on men’s tailoring, pointing with his Dunhill shell briar for effect.
Here’s what he says:
Well, this suit is Continental, Elsa. It’s a new style in America. Look, Tom’s formal is Ivy, which has been very popular. The difference is in the cuff. This has a little more cut to the jacket; it’s a shorter jacket. You’ll notice Tom has flaps on his pockets. These pockets are slanted.
After the war, when everybody was wearing full shoulders and full suits, Ivy came in. Ivy had been with us in the East for a long time, but it became very popular on a national level. Ivy has enjoyed a strong popularity, but just this last season something new has come over from Italy, and it’s Continental. It’s like Ivy in that it’s slim, but it’s a little more trimmed at the waist, a little more padding in the shoulder, the pockets are often slashed, and in addition the jacket is a little shorter, and you get accessories sometimes like the cuff and no belt.
Then Tom (the Ivy-clad fellow pictured above at left), perhaps concerned that the fashionableness of his attire may be nearing its expiration date, asks “Do you think Continental will replace the Ivy League style?”
Hef replies:
Playboy doesn’t think so. We did an article on it a couple of months ago. Ivy is so fundamental that I think it’s going to be with us. It’s basic, good conservative dress, and we think it’ll stay with us always. But Continental has a little more flair, it’s a little more elegant, and we think it fits those occasions when a man wants to dress up. We think there’s a place for both.
Ditching Ivy for Continental may be an error in judgment for us natural shoulder fans, but it’s not as bad as ditching clothing altogether in favor of pajamas.
After Hef’s style speech, he introduces Cal Tjader, who goes on to play the vibes in a gray sack suit and black knit tie (and with his specs and receding hairline, kinda looks like Newton Street Vintage circa 2009).
Here’s Tjader doing the lovely “Shina no yoru,” originally a Japanese propaganda song from the ’30s.
I like to sing it Nihon-go de in the shower. — CC
The battle between old money and new wages again as Leonardo DiCaprio takes on the role of Jay Gatsby in a new adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1926 novel “The Great Gatsby.” The film, which begins shooting soon in Australia, will be helmed by director Baz Luhrmann (”Moulin Rouge,” “Romeo + Juliet,” “Strictly Ballroom”).
While DiCaprio as Gatsby is an intriguing casting choice — not to mention Toby McGuire as Nick — I was more interested in who would wear the riding boots of WASP prick Tom Buchanan (Bruce Dern is pictured above in the 1974 production).
Buchanan, a Yalie, will be played by Joel Edgerton, whom you’ll no doubt recognize as Owen Lars from the “Star Wars” films “Attack of the Clones” and “Revenge of the Sith.”
(Actually, I just remembered that in high school we had a Gatsby costume party and I was chosen to portray the Old Money prick.)
No word if Ralph Lauren will provide costumes, as he did in 1974. — CHRISTIAN CHENSVOLD
Last week Brooks Brothers released its Fall 2011 promotional videos on YouTube. The youth-oriented clips continue the “Back To Campus” and “Back To Town” themes.
Above is the latter video, which, minus a two-second intro and outro, clocks in at 90 seconds. According to my calculations — and I may have blinked — there are 102 shots in the video, which allows you to take in the mise en scene at a rate of .88 seconds per shot.
I realize these videos are intended for the ADD generation, but it’s almost as if they don’t want you to see the clothes. — CC
For Ivy Style’s 300th post, London-based contributor Rebecca C. Tuite examines the most important piece of literature about The Ivy League Look’s most important brand.
There is little doubt that Mary Mccarthy’s short story “The Man in the Brooks Brothers Shirt” is now probably more famous for its punchy title — a dream for the Brooks Brother’s marketing team — than it is for the actual story. But it remains a classic part of the mystique of the Brooks Brothers Look, and indeed, the Brooks Brothers Man.
Taken from Mary McCarthy’s 1942 novel “The Company She Keeps,” which is less a straight narrative and more a collection of six short stories, “The Man in the Brooks Brothers Shirt,” forms the third chapter in the story of Margaret Sargent, a young woman trying to redefine her life following a Reno divorce. “Floundering in a world of casual affairs and squalid intimacies,” Sargent is self-destructive, reinventing herself as a bohemian and rebelling against society, all of which finds a perfect counterpoint in Mr. Breen: a Cleveland-based executive at a steel company and the “hearty stranger in the green shirt” she meets on a Pullman car heading west to Sacramento.
The story opens with the first description of the man, who at this point remains nameless:
The new man who came into the club car was coatless. He was dressed in grey trousers and a green shirt of expensive material that had what seemed to be the figure “2″ embroidered in darker green on the sleeve. His tie matched the green of the monogram, and his face, which emerged rather sharply from this tasteful symphony in cool colours, was bluish pink.
Less than impressed, Sargent sees him “like something in a seed catalogue,” and although feeling “full of contempt for the man, for his coatlessness, for his colour scheme, for his susceptibility, for his presumption,” she still allows herself, firstly, to enter into conversation with him, and secondly, to spend the night with him (subsequently enduring the following morning). All of this is peppered with Sargent’s own disgust for the promiscuity her aunt has always warned her about — “I don’t know why you make yourself so cheap,” and “It doesn’t pay to let men think you’re easy.” (Continue)
Twenty years ago writer/director Whit Stillman released “Metropolitan,” set during the height of the debutante ball season between Christmas and New Year’s. No other film has examined the preppy class with such wit and originality, and unlike lesser preppy films from the ’80s, “Metropolitan” is as timeless as its indeterminate temporal setting.
The clip above is Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel’s review from a 1990 episode of “At The Movies,” in which Ebert praises the film’s quirky highbrow dialogue, while Siskel — whose favorite movie, “Saturday Night Fever,” depicts a much different tribe of young New Yorkers — gives “Metropolitan” a thumbs down. — CHRISTIAN CHENSVOLD
Jazz and Ivy duel for the affections of Natalie Wood in “All the Fine Young Cannibals,” a largely forgotten melodrama released a half a century ago. The film has not been released on DVD, but there are used VHS copies floating about, and if you search the web you might find a digital version.
“All the Fine Young Cannibals” (from which the pop group took its name) is based on a novel by Rosamond Marshall and stars Natalie Wood and her then-husband Robert Wagner as two impoverished lovers in rural Texas.
As Chad Bixby, Wagner plays the trumpet and dreams of making a living as a jazz musician. Wood’s character, Sarah Davis, changes her name to Salomé because no one with such a name could be destined for life in a small town.
Wagner hones his chops playing at a juke joint in Deep Elem. One night he takes Wood there, leaves her alone for a minute, and in pops George Hamilton who, as we showed in our post on “Where The Boys Are,” specialized in playing rich Ivy Leaguers.
As a Yalie home for the summer, Hamilton struts through the juke joint with his fancy Eastern jacket, plain-front trousers and white buttondown. Sitting down next to Wood, he smiles and delivers his pick-up line: “Hi, I’m a Yale man” (see image above).
He goes on to assume Salomé is one of the girls who can be rented by the hour (and with a name like Salomé, you can understand why), which at least explains what he’s doing there in the first place.
In a later scene, pictured below, Hamilton gets fitted by his tailor in his room, which features crossed swords over his bed and a Yale throw pillow. He complains about how dull his home town is, and his mother remarks that he was a nice boy before he went away to college.
Hamilton ends up marrying Wood, and there’s a fun scene where he introduces her to his fellow fraternity hearties. His sister enters the picture and ends up marrying Wagner, setting up a quartet of misery as the cannibals, starved for either love or money, feast on each other’s hearts. — CC (Continue)
I recently discovered the movie “White Squall,” directed by Ridley Scott and starring Jeff Bridges. Set in 1961, it’s a coming-of-age film crossed with maritime adventure.
The story centers around a group of prep-school flunkies who get to redeem themselves in a kind of nautical reform school, doing their studies at sea while they learn sailing and self-reliance and overcome personal demons. But their life lessons get even tougher when the ship sinks in a “white squall” and their much-admired skipper, played by Bridges, is blamed.
The boys spend most of their time in khakis, white tees, canvas sneakers and Princeton haircuts. But in one extended scene they go ashore for a dance with a group of female Dutch students, and get decked out in blazers, madras jackets, button-downs and penny loafers.
“White Squall,” named for a kind of violent windstorm at sea, is available streaming from Netflix. — CC
