JFK: Authentic in Brick Reds

I think it was Toad…correct me if I’m wrong, who said that since he’s never been on Nantucket, he’s reluctant to wear Nantucket Reds. There’s an authenticity play here folks, and Toad is anything but a poseur. And I for some reason, even though I’ve spent time on Nantucket, now feel the need to confess that I owned the Murray’s magic togs long before I ever set foot on the island.

I happened upon a treasure trove of JFK Kodachrome while looking for visual props (where the eff would I be without visual props?) to complement another Trad Indifference story. And the gem of the harvest was Jack in Brick Reds.

JFK effortlessly swathed in the sailcloth talisman of New England prep/trad sprezzatura.

George Frazier IV knows a thing or two about Nantucket. Even though he doesn't spend time there anymore, it’s an inextricable part of his journey. He summered there with his parents and brother, retreated to Nantucket when necessary and he bought his Reds at Murray’s. George shared with me a story that is fraught with Nantucket authenticity and connectedness. I wish that every email paragraph I got was as rich…

“…I got disgusted with New York (believe me: it's a different place when your parents are picking up the tab), and moved to the cellar/servants' floor of my mother's house in Nantucket one winter. My wife-to-be was working at Murray's, and when I went in for my semi-seasonal Brick Red (what Nantucket Reds were called in the Beginning, and by me even now) fix, I met my wife, who had just graduated from Newcombe (now Tulane), and was killing time after her family had left its summer digs to return to Louisiana. I knew her elder sister and brother (summer folk from Louisiana were a rarity on Nantucket in those days; the only people I know of who spent their summers on Nantucket way back then were Northeasterners, with the exception of a family from Santa Barbara, one from (gasp) Texas, and the above-mentioned Louisianans). In any event, I fell in love with New Orleans and moved there….”

I reckon you can’t manifest any greater Brick Red authenticity than Mr. Frazier IV. A trip to the Toggery and voilà …a wife and a life…still being lived in full, in New Orleans. 

Onward. Waiting for Red times again.

ADG II
(Thanks very much to George Frazier IV of New Orleans, for permission to reference our correspondence)

Nantucket Blues and Cocktail Consistency

The ADG Gospel on Nantucket Reds has long since been posited. If you need a quick refresher just click here.

You might recall...or not...my cocktails and clicking of several weeks ago. The evening that manifested the O'Connell's bleeding madras online buffet also included a Nantucket Blues appetizer from Murray's. Somehow in all of the bleeding Madras exhilaration, my Nantucket Blues arrival didn't quicken the pulse over here and that's too bad. Truth...I think I like the blues better than the reds...let's see how they behave after a couple more washings and a day or so sitting in the sun. The photo above is for...

I'm not generally one for light blue trews but these have tons of nuance and an interestingly patchy-scaly veneer finished off with just the right amount of dye splotchiness. I sound like a derma-damn-tologist moonlighting as a Wine Spectator columnist. Shut up.

Jury remains out on what I'll do with the bottoms. Right now they are just turned up and out of the way. Might cuff 'em...might leave 'em as is.

The rough canvas texture of these classics keeps them squarely in the ultra casual realm. Sloppy-preppy-trad homeless...that's me if I'm not in front of clients. Bathing is way overrated.

I've decided that I'd be an easy mark for an assassin. Shadow me for a couple of days and my routines are obvious. Hell, if you wanna knock me off just camp out in front of Cactus Cantina every Friday and Saturday nights for a couple of weeks and you'll be bound to ace me. Just make certain that your aim is true. LFG always accompanies me. Guys aren't difficult to figure out.


I've never been one for fancy drinks. I don't do trendy-fancy at the bar...I do fancy in the GTH trouser tournament and that's about it. Martinis cover several major food groups and as a moderate drinker, I limit myself to two of them. What's the old saying about martinis? Two and I'm under the table--Three and I'm under my date. If I'm gonna have a hooch snort or two, I'd just as soon make it count. My only variation in decades of martini consumption was a move from gin to vodka about ten years ago. I simply can't stand myself the next day after gin consumption of any amount. You couldn't stand me either. By the way, if you don't have a copy of Barnaby Conrad III's book on the history of the Martini...I'd suggest that you get it. While you're at it you might as well get his book on Absinthe. Then you probably should go ahead and learn a thing or two about his daddy. Buy some Herb Caen lore while you're stocking up.


Stoli is fine with me. Anything nicer is only a price point increase to my palate. Dry-dirty-three big olives and I'm good to go. Olives stuffed with....you pick it...I'm probably gonna like it. Vermouth...a little dab will do ya...it's a garnish. A Gibson? Why not? A little onion from time to time makes it interesting. On the rocks? You've gotta be kidding me. Part of the ritual involves drinking it in a proper glass...anticipating the ice cold burn of the first swallow and the briny dregs of the final lukewarm drop. Ice would derail and attenuate not only the martini but the entire damn ritual. So here's to my two drink maximum in.....

London...at Claridge's with a Negroni drinking friend

Gotham at The Roosevelt

Boston

Philly

That loathsome town...Las Vegas

21 in Gotham...the only reason the 'tini isn't in the picture is that it was en route.

Time for another glass of water and then a shower. Maybe.

ADG

Nantucket Reds-Madras-White Bucks

It might be a bit early in the season but I, the official keeper of all rules sartorial, declare it acceptable to wear your Nantucket Reds. That would be acceptable for YOU to wear your Reds-not me. I'll release White Bucks next week and I must tell you that the jury remains out on madras. Patch madras may be banned for all of 2010...I'm leaning strongly in said direction and will do a unique post on madras later in the week. Like I said last August...when you can buy patch madras in the head shops at the beach, it's time to give it a rest. We've got issues in the madras realm but fear not-I'm going to sort them out for you. 


Now if only we could find regular madras from the late '60's-early '70's...vegetable dyed...the bleeding kind...like these babies below. Imagine how subtle the hue would be on these after the madras bled. Geez...I had to put my Toad Memorial Patch Madras in the bathtub to knock some of the garish tone as well as the Jos.Banks out of it. This pattern and color reminds me of one summer in college. The KA Summer Party. There was a stunner wearing some kind of little madras shift dress in a similar pattern. She had a teeny tiny little white zit on her shoulder. My buddy Z.G. ever so gallantly leaned over and popped it for her and said..."Now there"! I think beer and a little piece of hot dog shot out of my nose as I witnessed said chivalrous act. 

My seasonal allergies turned respiratory gunk is my excuse...my excuse for drunk clicking the other night. You've heard of drunk dialing right? I had two buddies a few year ago that almost met with blocked phone numbers courtesy of ADG. They never called when they were sober and they were never as funny as they thought there were. Now my drunk clicking wasn't alcohol induced. I was high on NyQuil. Shut up. 

Upon what did I click? That would be the hybrid-mongrel-ersatz-ersatz-ersatz Murray's variation of the revered Reds...the Blues. Blue canvas trews. It was kind of like a bootie call except I didn't call anyone and I didn't get any bootie. Same base motivator though...It was late at night-I was alone-I wasn't thinking clearly and I wanted something.

Here's a really bad swatch from the Murray's website. Gonna be fun watching those babies fade. Stay tuned. Now on to some recycled wisdom regarding White Bucks...that you can wear next week...both the advice and the shoes.

I think white bucks should be a bit dirty. Broken-in-beer and pee pee did the trick in college. Anyone who is retentive enough to try and keep them white should simply forego the wearing opportunity. You know the type. The Adolph Menjou “too studied-too stiff” types that worry about such things. There’s medication for that by the way. 
If you do want to keep your white bucks from being totally trashed, maybe a little hit from a Buck Bag every now and then will suffice. I’ve had a couple of them for years. Not being too dutiful about keeping these boys clean means that I’ll probably never need another Buck Bag. Probably good because I don’t know where one could procure such a thing locally. I got mine at Cole Haan before they went Disco. There was a time when I could get a pair of bucks…white or dirty at Cole Haan. Disco. I just can’t think of another word to describe how I now feel about their stuff.

I've said it before and I'll say it again...I want these Crockett and Jones White Bucks but I don't want to pay the freight for them. Somebody needs to step up.

Thanks in advance.
ADG

Pooting in Church and the Horizontal Treatise

“Man…That’s as ugly as pooting in church” … I can hear my best childhood and fratty brother DCA saying it right now. Church pooting. Say it. Out loud. At least once-you know you want to.

Sunday saw me engaged in an après handlin’ brunch with LFG and her mom. I figured-because we know that God doesn’t care what you wear-as long as you cover you’re a_s up-that I’d bust out in my fancy lined linen Flusser blazer. You know the one-yellow lining and blue and white silk striped sleeves.

I have no original ideas. This linen blazer was concocted years ago after having dinner with Puerto Rykken and Alan Flusser. The Flussman sported said coat at dinner and had the sleeves turned back-exposing said lining. I had to pounce. But where did I go wrong? Where did the dice fuzziness go wild? I simply asked for a fancy lining and figured that my tailors would use better judgement. 

The result-my best buddy DCA would say that everything on this rig is strong…butcept the lining is “church pooting ugly”. I might agree. Three/Two sack. Open patches-including breast. Two sleeve buttons...and an ugly lining.

But give me some props for the contrivance. I've declared it ok to bust out the Nantucket Reds and the accesories like this belt. It works-shut the ____up.

Flusser Pocket square looks like a cotton print. It's silk-just ask me.

New and Lingwood cashmere and cotton gingham shirt-half price from my trip across the pond. It was too warm for the shirt on Sunday. You can color this one gone till cooler weather rolls back around.

Ok, let’s move on to the Horizontal Treatise….I’ve stolen these pictures with reckless abandon from our buddy Chris over at Off the Cuff. While LFG and I were frolicking last week on Spring Break, Chris was interviewing Flusser at the DC trunk show. Check him out here.

I wish that I’d witnessed this stripy horizontality in person because my edgy man Flusser was knockin’ it out of Stripe City Park. And you thought that I came up with the cowboy barrel cuff on my own. Nope-here's the godfather of fuzzy-replete with said barrel. BAM!

But what really lands this contrivance in the Fuzzy Dice Sweet Spot is the horizontal striped shirt girded with a kiss my ascot horizontal striped belt.

My Sartorial Guide-Flusser has obviously stepped off of the give a shit bus (as if he was ever on it) and boarded the Fuzzy Dice Express.

Onward-Fuzzily-With dreadful respiratory gunk…ADG sans cocktails.

Seattle and...Redux: I Am the Man from…Nantucket Reds

Greetings from the Fairmont in Seattle-again. Rolled in here after a 5.5 hour flight from New Jersey...middle seat...coach class. If I don't get the Swine after this week I'm probably ok for the long haul. Headwinds coming out here were strong. I just hope that the tailwinds going home will be just as strong.

Have you ever been so tired that you just dropped your kit and fell into bed?

Ever done the East coast-West coast thing and awoke at 430 PST ready for coffee? The Fairmont knows about this phenomenon and thus offers room service 24-7.

I always bring diversity to my reading queue when travelling. I knocked out a few pages of both my right and left brain books for this week’s travel…

Differential Diagnoses: A Comparative History of Health Care Problems and Solutions in the United States and France and Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast: Sketches from the Author’s Life in Paris in the Twenties. After reading a few pages involving comparative healthcare economies it quickly becomes time to read about Hemingway et al in Paris.

So Fall is upon us and I figured that an oldie abut summer time togs would be fun. You better have your Reds put away for the winter. (And Gail-Northern Cal....I promise that I didn't steam my blazer for hours at the Roosevelt!)


Onward.
ADG



Ok folks. We’re gonna tackle a subject that is loaded with lore and forthwith, tethered by my rules. Now I love lore but am not much of a rules guy. I’ve had a brooding-low grade problem with authority that goes back to toddler-hood. I’m the poster child-passing all evidentiary muster that spanking is not efficacious. However, Nantucket Red in general andNantucket Reds particularly, must be rule bound. Now these are my rules and I’m sure that there will be those that take issue with one or two of them but that’s ok. This is my Code and you aren’t bound to it. However, if you don’t and I see you out and about-I’ll make fun of you.

I remember my first pair-I got them long before I set foot on Nantucket and even longer before the internet. My friend here in Old Town; N.S. came home with them and I quickly called Murray’s to order mine. Murray’s has been peddling these sailcloth babies, made in Georgia by the way, since the 1940’s. I like the incongruence of their manufacture in an inelegant rural Georgia plant and the final destination being elegant-preppy-casual-salty New England. Mr. Phillip Murray above pictured is the gent that started it all.

Rule Number One: The ONLY source of true-authentic Reds is Murray’s on Nantucket. Sure-you can find similar togs and analogous fabric but you’ll be a poseur if you aren’t willing to admit publicly that your ersatz trews are just that-ersatz. And by the way, that’s ok. I own some hybrids too but make certain that you own up to it.

Rule Number Two: Only ONE Nantucket Red element may be worn at a time. Your rig must NEVER contain two-ever. As a matter of fact, if you break this rule you should be banned from wearing any Reds item ever again. This rule is so crucial that I’ve gotta add an amendment-after wearing even ONE Red item on a particular day, a one day NO REDS sabbatical must result. Please, avoid the “I’ve been to Nantucket once in my life and I bought every freakin’ thing I could find even loosely associated with Murray’s original Nantucket Red sailcloth pants and look-I have all of it on right now-as a matter of fact my wife and I just ordered a Nantucket Red Mini Cooper with Nantucket Red sailcloth upholstery and convertible top” visage. And this rule is coming from the redneck fuzzy dice guy who rarely practices restraint. The belt in the photo is from the Nobby Clothes Shop on Nantucket. Nice enough place. They'll sell you a pair of "Breton Reds". Don't.

Rule Number Three: You MUST allow your Nantucket Reds to fade over time. I know this is contradictory to my behavior of getting the “Jos.A.Bank” out of my patch madras sportcoat(wait till you see what our latest step was in that effort) but this is a different proposition. If you add a tad of bleach and wash them repeatedly they just don’t look the same as ones that have faded from a couple of seasons of regular washing. Your trou will scream…. “LOOK at me; I have on what I want you to believe are ten year old Nantucket Reds but really-I just got them in the mail yesterday!!” The shoes are Sperry-the shorts are from Brooks courtesy of LFG and the sweater is Ralph. All good pieces but rule bound as well. The sweater is a summer only ....just off the beach-sunburned-time for a cocktail covering.Only.

Be patient. Allow them to become what they’ll become. Like your children, their journey will be seasoned with wonderment, pride and a tinge of disappointment. Disappointment you say. How? It happens when you are at happy hour in Newport or similar environs and you see someone whose Reds are either older than yours or have faded differently. There’s beauty in the flaws and differences-just like in kids and adults for that matter. Don’t be jealous of what you don’t have. You've no idea what the owner of those Reds has gone or is going through. If you can snake his date though, that’s a different matter. Any of you guys remember date snaking? Any gals willing to admit that you’ve blown off a date midstream for a more exciting evening’s option? The shorts above were involved in date snaking in the early 1990's. Shut up.

Rule Number Four: Put ‘em up after Labor Day-all of it-including the socks and the shoes and the belt and the sweater and the….whatever the hell else you bought. The shoes are good. The shoes worn with any other Red item-not good.

And finally-a suggestion-not a rule: I don’t rush the aging process but I do buy them one size too large and boil them one time in a big crawfish-crab type pot for about a half hour. No bleach-no soap. Nothing but boiling water. Why? It does a better job of getting the excess first round of sizing and dye out of the togs than machine washing them. It also shrinks them in toto appropriately for the requisite hemming and waist alteration as needed. Hem ‘em a little short with cuffs or if you are a Nantucket Redneck like me-have one pair cuffed and one pair frayed-no hem. Reds belt with seersucker-good. Reds belt with seersucker and the socks and shoes-you are blackballed. Banned for life.

Here's an example of one Reds component. Only one. Along with vintage patch mad and an old Champion sweatshirt and some gal I picked up.

Neither you nor I "am the man from Nantucket". Pick up the hat-try it on-turn to your better half and smirk-then right before she slaps your ass into next week-put it back on the rack. Nothing good will come from you owning this hat.

This is all I have for today.

Tata.