At a party you never want to be the first to arrive nor the last to leave, though someone inevitably must be. Dorm life (which is kind of like an endless party) is no different. This young chap is either an eager beaver at the start of the year, or a sentimental sap waxing contemplative after everyone else is long gone. From the Brown Alumni Magazine, 1953.
Chris Sharp found the photo. Maybe next he’ll find the guy and ask him whether he was coming or going. — CC
We continue our back-to-school celebrations with another gallery of vintage advertisements from college papers.
Most interesting are those from Harvey Ltd. (seen above and below), which catered to the Brown community. “There is a certain style of clothing,” reads the copy in one ad, “which distinguishes the Ivy Leaguer from all other college men.” And in the other, “This may be quite different from the style you are used to wearing.”
In other words, egghead meritocrats were encouraged to follow the lead of the Old Money, gentleman’s C types. — CC & CS (Continue)
Starting today Ivy Style celebrates the back-to-school season. We’ll start over the weekend with vintage ads from college papers welcoming freshmen and telling them where to get correct clothes. And next week you’ll get entertaining reads on the heyday from all of us. — CC, CS & RVP (Continue)
Following the mention of Paul Fussell’s pinpoint-accurate and hilarious book “Class” in our last post, faithful reader “Old School” sent us a reminder about another entertaining class theorist, Russell Lynes. The above chart comes from Lynes’ 1949 book “The Tastemakers.” His 1953 Esquire article on the shoe hierarchy at Yale, which we presented several years ago, is a must-read.
We also featured him back when we were a wee little site of six months old. — CC
This ad from a 1959 issue of Sports Illustrated is interesting for a number of reasons. Most obvious is the ad’s premise of dressing young. From our perspective 55 years later, the men in the ad could hardly look more mature. Yet such were the small distinctions of suit-wearing at the time.
Then, in the box on the right, is the apparent trademarking of this “authentic IVY LEAGUE Model.”
And finally there’s the italicized line in the lower left about being “sanitized linings for hygieneic freshness,” with exclamation point.
I recall Paul Fussell’s having a fitting remark about champagne in his book “Class” (DCG, please return my copy.) Something about how the middle class always saves the unused portion by putting aluminum foil over the top, thereby satisfying its dual yet competing desires for luxury (pronounced “lugzhury”) and thrift.
Or, in this case, an authentically prestigious Ivy League model priced “regardless of budget” and sanitized for freshness. — CHRISTIAN CHENSVOLD
Was batik really worn by college men, or was it a marketing ploy by clothiers, as one reader recently suggested?
Evidence courtesy of Lehigh University yearbooks from 1961-65. — CC & CS (Continue)
Some examples of ads from campus newspapers during the Ivy heyday. In the next post, we’ll show you some examples of batik in 2014. — CS & CC (Continue)