One thing you loyal readers of the site have to look forward in 2007 is the rollout of the "Icon" column that I have been writing for City since 2002 (which also gets picked up occasionally by its sister magazine Desert Living.)
The "Icon" is a little history lesson about a famous person, place, or product, done up with the brilliant illustration talents of Julia Rothman. She makes my job look easy.
I thought it fitting to say good bye to 'ought-six and to ring in 'ought-seven with a bit of backstory on the New Year's Eve formal wear of choice, the tuxedo.
Enjoy your parties, make sure to shake off the champagne fogginess before the Rose Bowl (Why I Say It's BOOTY! BOOTY!) and best wishes for 2007.
Slainte and Peace, PJS
YOU SAY TUSCETO ...: On a chully autumn night in 1886,the Astors, Rockefellers, and 700 other white- tie-and-tails-clad New Yorkers hopped in their horse and buggies and hightailed it 40 miles north to an area the Lenni-Lenape Indians used to call Tusceto, or “place of the bear.” But when they arrived for the grand opening of Tuxedo Park, a new baroque hunting and fishing lodge, it was not Yogi or Smokey who greeted them but cigarette magnate and lodge owner Pierre Lorillard IV. And it was his son, Griswold, who provided the biggest surprise. Donning the first ever “tuxedos,” the young Lorillard and his friends made a dapper splash with hunting coat–inspired black satin dinner jackets and scarlet vests, all designed by dear old dad—or so the story goes. Another version has Lorillard copying the look of the then Prince of Wales, while still a third credits not Griswold but local dandy James Brown Potter as the first tuxedo guinea pig. Whichever the case, the tuxedo was the talk of the party, and the rest is sartorial history.
ALL DRESSED UP: The epitome of formal attire has acquired the animalistic description of a “monkey suit,” but where would the elegance of so many virginities lost on prom night be without it? It’s nearly impossible to go wrong with a classic single-breasted jacket with notch lapels, even when forced to endure rented shoes and an ill-fitting cummerbund (yoked by the Brits from India following World War I). For those more adventurous, here’s a simple rule of thumb: If it seems as if it will look ridiculous, it will look ridiculous. For the fashion-impaired, this includes: bolo ties, American flag suspenders, tuxedo T-shirts, the all-baby-blue-with-ruffles number from Dumb & Dumber, and for the love of god, the 1989 prom monstrosity ensemble of a white coat, black shirt, hot pink sequined bow tie with matching earring, and zebra-striped Vans. (Don’t even ask to see a picture; I burned them all years ago.)
LOOK TO THE STARS: The Academy Awards wouldn’t be the gay Super Bowl without bitchy queens debating which star graced the red carpet in the worst tuxedo. Still, movie icons can teach us a lot about how to suavely sport a tux. If it’s basic black, check out Cary Grant in Notorious. A white coat? Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca is your usual suspect. Of course, you can never go wrong with Bond...James Bond. And if you have to outfit an extended family for a wedding, you could do worse than taking your cue from those adorable little monogamists in March of the Penguins.
(Illustration by Julia Rothman)
(City, Desert Living, 2007)
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