"My Fur Lady": Broadway Joe Namath Meets the Sears Catalogue

What a miracle it was that Joe Namath flubbed the coin toss at last week's Super Bowl. Why?  His fabulous fur jacket got even more air time as the referee called for a second throw (guess the former quarterback was out of practice). But I wasn't complaining, as my eyes were glued to Broadway Joe's outrageous 70s flashback fur.

I realize that Joe had worn similar furs throughout his career.  There are any number of vintage shots showing him stalking the sidelines in furs galore. But I was transported to Prince Edward Island, 1970s era, and my Sears catalogue.




Did anyone else grow up on a small island? In the 1970s, there weren't many shopping choices.  My stylish mother would pack my father and me in our car and we'd hop over to the mainland via a ferry boat--Moncton, NB, was close, Halifax, NS, was further, but had more big-city delights. 

And if we were really ready to throw down the fashion gauntlet, my mum and I would board a plane with my grandmother and high tail it to Montreal, where my two elders would set up shop in the fabled Ogilvy's while I satiated my sweet tooth with a box of the generously cut fudge from the shops in the Queen Elizabeth Hotel.

But if none of those possibilities were available, there were two catalogues: the Eaton's Book and the Sears Catalogue.  And it was from Sears, while an elementary-school student, that I ordered my first fake-fur jacket--a Joe Namath-quality gray beauty.  On the Island, people dressed for warmth, not style (I bought my first pair of winter "fashion" boots when I moved to the States), but this fur jacket with complementary pleather insets did the trick.

And since then, I've been drawn to an adventurous fur look. Josephine Peary has long been a style icon in her arctic gear;

Nanook of the North rivals Namath fur best-dressed.

So thanks to Joe Namath for reminding me of that fur-jacket memory, long tucked away, but fresh as my then-schoolgirl attitude.

Big Joe Muffera and Johnny Chinook Chic

Maybe this post headline jogs the memory of some of my gentle Canadian readers.

 It was a snow day yesterday and is again today, with lots of lovely, large, fluffy flakes making a thick blanket on the ground.  On Sunday middle child and I ventured out on a hike to the drugstore to buy a New York Times.  It felt like old times to me, having grown up on Prince Edward Island and having live in Ottawa, where I ice-skated to university in the winter.

Now my winter boots are more suited for apres-ski--for drinking a hot toddy around the alpine fireplace rather than forging a Josephine Peary trail.  But the spirit prevailed.

After coming in from the snow, I looked up one of my favourite winter-jacket designers--Moncler--to see what witty winter wear it's offering.

Clearly Mr. Valli has been watching some History Channel mixed with a binge of Deneuve, as he showed some Finding Bigfoot Meets Peau d'Ane outerwear.  Or maybe it's Peau d'Ane Finds Bigfoot.  Whatevs. It's usually Bobo on a late-night constitutional.

Then there were some Nutcracker-ready Snow Queen jackets.

 There was also what may have been a tribute to Marianne Faithfull, what I'm calling "As Tiers Go By":

And, for fans of Big Joe Muffera and Johnny Chinook, some lumberjack chic in plaid mohair.

So did any other gentle readers watch this television show when growing up?

Cashmere & Crops

A few weeks ago someone asked me whether I *always* wore dresses, as if she were a little exasperated with my sartorial constancy.

Truth is, I wear dresses throughout the early fall, spring, and summer.  Shorts have their place, but I love the floaty ease of a dress rather than a skirt (one piece is simpler than two). 

Plus I credit this next element to my Canadian upbringing: I'm often too hot in the States.  Where are those triple-minus wild-chills or a lovely ocean breeze to cool the soul?  As I've said before, I don't even own proper snow boots.

But cool temperatures do envelop even this frosty Canuck, and for the last couple of weeks I've broken out my trousers.  My favourite look is a cropped skinny pant with some sort of generous apres-ski sweater.  J Crew made my beloved cashmere striped turtleneck last year, with just the right amount of drape, which I bought in two colourways (and I'm browsing eBay for a third).

This year I've been coveting the sweater above.  It doesn't have a demi-fitted silhouette, which makes me pause a tad (would it be a beautiful jade sack on?), but it holds promise.  Soon that same person will be asking me whatever happened to those dresses.

Vakko Memories

The lovely WendyB's recent post on peplums reminded me of my first leather jacket, made by Vakko. 

It had a dropped waist with a peplum, an assymetrical hidden zip flap with a top snap, a stand-up collar, and outrageous shoulder pads.  It was made from a textured dark brown leather with a hint of gray that evoked both Mad Max and elephants.

I bought it when I was an undergraduate, after swooning over it in a boutique, shuddering over the price tag, and returning a month later to find it reduced by 75 percent. 

I wore it till I wore it out. Or as I said chez WendyB, till it ran out of pep.

Aside from the general wonderfulness of the jacket, there was a certain thrill in owning a Vakko piece in the mid 1980s.  Vogue regularly sold that company a double-page ad up front, and Vakko delivered, with images of Elle in a Safari leather jacket, Cindy Crawford in a blue suede dress:

and in this swing coat:

There's an image of Elle for Vakko far above, in a jacket that's much more "mall" than my post-apocalyptic pachyderm number, but you can see the fun that Vakko had with shoulders and a peplum.

Gorsuch Style

A sure sign that summer's coming to an end is the arrival of the Gorsuch catalogue.  Full of over-the-top Gstaad ski togs and Alpinabilia, this catalogue inspires both desire and amusement.

For instance, more than once I've admired a sweater on a well-clad model and, scanning the price list, think to myself, "Oh, $175 isn't too much for that sweater." 

Then I read more carefully and see that's the price of her cashmere socks.

(Full disclosure: my beloved Technica boots are from the Gorsuch catalogue.)

Following a quick perusal, here are my short-list picks from the latest edition:

I like the purply-pink trim on this brown sweater.  And the shell buttons:

These shoes, though, are my real objet d'amour:

Made by Brunello Cucinelli, their laces are not mere grosgrain, but silk grosgrain.

And this confuses me: an iPad (tablet) case that costs more than the actual tablet?  Ooh la la:

To be sure, it is made by Bottega Veneta . . .

Do gentle readers enjoy the Gorsuch lookbook or is it my guilty pleasure alone?