What can we say? Some pictures just make us smile. Straw boaters, anyone? (If only they had one big enough for our melon head…)
The Game Show Network is one of our go-to television channels when we just want something on in the background. We’ll watch Match Game, Family Feud, Deal or No Deal, you name it. We do wish GSN would show more classic game shows of the 1950s and ’60s, as they used to, but still the network makes it easy to pass a half-hour or two in pleasant enough fashion.
Now, here’s the guilty pleasure part: We occasionally even watch Baggage, the dating show hosted by (cringe) Jerry Springer. On this show, a trio of hopefuls vying to be selected for a date reveal their quirks and peccadilloes, and at the end of the show, the person who has chosen one of the three for a date reveals his or her own baggage, and is either accepted or rejected by the person they’ve chosen.
Like we said, a guilty pleasure. If ever you want to feel that you’re perfectly sane and in fact a great catch, this is the (freak) show for you.
We’ve idly wondered in the past whether, if ever we were a contestant on a game show, we would go full vintage with our attire (the answer is probably yes, as we own little else but vintage clothing), but we’d never before seen a contestant sporting a vintage look—until last night.
It was Nerd Night on Baggage, and a lovely young woman with an avowed appreciation for brainiacs with pop culture obsessions had three ComicCon regulars to choose between. We were surprised one member of that trio was dressed in vintage attire (we don’t know if his garb was original or repro, but by Baggage standards, he looked pretty sharp). Generally, the contestants on the show sport untucked shirts (even under a blazer or sweater—what is it with the untucking in Southern California?) and a very carefully tended “two day’s growth” of beard, a grooming trend we are eager to see ride off into sunset.
And what do you know, the contestant clad in vintage garb was selected by the young woman, only to reject her at show’s end when she revealed her own baggage: She refuses to drive a car and expects her boyfriend to do the same (it’s a green thing).
Call it Revenge of the Vintage Nerds.
We love us some vintage clothing; easily 80% of the clothes we wear on a daily basis are older than we are (we made our debut in 1958, in case you’re wondering).
So whenever we watch old movies (which, as longtime readers know, we do often), we spend as much time and energy focusing on the garments the actors are sporting as on the plot, performances and photography.
We especially like it when we encounter a garment, an accessory, a look unlike any we’ve seen before, and we came across an example of just that recently when we watched the Cold War noir, The Woman On Pier 13 (1949), starring Robert Ryan, Laraine Day, and John Agar.
William Talman, perhaps best remembered as Hamilton Burger, the DA Raymond Burr mopped the floor with week after week on “Perry Mason,” also appears in a supporting role as a bad guy (it was his motion picture debut). And in one scene that finds him squiring Day around from one seedy nightspot to the next, he wears a plaid jacket like none we’d ever seen.
And while we can’t honestly say we liked the look, it was at least interesting.
We are familiar, as perhaps you are, too, with several varieties of lapels on men’s sports, suit and formal jackets—notch, peak, shawl—but outside of the Nehru jackets that enjoyed their brief moment in the sun in the 1960s, we’d never before seen a man, on the silver screen or on the street, sporting a plaid sportscoat that had no lapels at all.
We turned to Marc Chevalier, easily the most knowledgeable person we’re acquainted with when it comes to vintage menswear. Here’s what he had to offer:
“Jackets like this one were briefly popular in the early to mid-1940s. The style originated in California, and was probably first designed by Clinton Stoner. Frank Sinatra was the most famous wearer of this type of jacket, back in the early ’40s.
“I seem to recall that it was called a “cardigan sportcoat” or some such thing.”
There you have it. A Google search yielded no mention of the term “cardigan jacket,” but Marc’s word is certainly good enough for us. However, we also couldn’t find any info about Clinton Stoner, and our curiosity got the better of us. Thankfully, Marc, bless his heart, had the full scoop (we knew he would):
“Clinton Stoner was a freelance men’s suit and sportswear designer whose merchant clients included Macintosh Studio Clothes and Saks Fifth Avenue. In the late 1940s, he opened his own custom sportswear shop—named “Clinton Stoner”—on the east end of the Sunset Strip. Stoner’s shop was a favorite of gangster Mickey Cohen, actor Robert Mitchum, etc. Stoner’s daughter, Beverly, achieved some notoriety of her own as a much-married, much abused nightclub singer.”
You won’t see us adopting Stoner’s (and Sinatra’s) lapel-free style anytime soon, but we are intrigued by the look.