THE SELVEDGE YARD X TRIUMPH & DISASTER GREASER GETDOWN RECAP

TSY THE SELVEDGE YARD TRIUMPH AND DISASTER POMADE GREASER GETDOWN NEW HOPE PA SHOP

Our new friends at Triumph & Disaster descended upon The Selvedge Yard in New Hope, PA and did exactly what they threatened to do– throw one helluva party with us and giveaway a free trip for 2 to Waiheke Island, New Zealand. TSY was extremely honored that T&D founder himself, Dion Nash (along with Holly Walker & Caz Little), traveled to join-in on the festivities and to meet our crew of incredible supporters, locals & friends.

TSY THE SELVEDGE YARD NEW HOPE TRIUMPH AND DISASTER GREASER GETDOWN

Lovely Linda Missal @citygirlmotorbike (above left) was the winner of our TSY x Triumph & Disaster Greaser Getdown trip giveaway! It came down to 3 awesome finalists, which made for a tough decision. Linda, a member of women’s motorcycle club The Miss-Fires was joined by her boyfriend John James Linsley who was also dressed for the event. The good-looking couple was a one-two punch that sealed the deal– along with the fact that Linda showed true grit by riding her bike in the pouring rain all the way from Brooklyn! Well deserved!

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STRAY CAT STRUTTIN’ STYLE | BRIAN SETZER AND THE BOYS ROCK THIS TOWN

I loved the early days of the Stray Cats back when they were young, raw and fresh from Long Island. Seeing lil’ Brian Setzer in these grainy old pics (if you can help out with any photo credits, I’d appreciate it!), some even from his pre-tattoo days built like a matchstick with a pile of hair that entered the room a full minute before he did…well, they are a sight to see. Their style was pretty tough back in the hungry years before the big payday when they rocked on a steady diet of engineer boots, creepers, skinny jeans, polka dot thrift shop tops with cut-off sleeves, bandanas and a sneer. Soon the look was gobbled up by the mainstream made-for-MTV crowd and regurgitated into a uniform with elements of new wave / new romantics fluffy hairdos, argyles, leopard print, gold lamé, Zodiac boots, and over-sized sportcoats.

Give the Stray Cats their due. Not only were they heavily responsible for a resurgence of interest in American roots Rock, Rockabilly, Swing, and Greaser culture– Brian Setzer was honored with being the first artist since Chet Atkins to be granted a Gretsch artist model guitar built and named for him. A true reflection of how strongly he was identified with Gretsch, and how he helped cement them with a new generation as the true player’s guitar for anyone serious about Rockabilly and the like. After the Stray Cats, guys like the Reverend Horton Heat, Mike Ness (Setzer played on Cheating at Solitaire) and others like them have carved-out their own sound and legacy on a Gretsch– and they owe a nod to Brian Setzer for paving the way.

A young and well-coiffed Brian Setzer of the Stray Cats back in the early 1980s

1982, Paris– A couple of lean, mean rockers Thierry Le Coz & Brian Setzer. Brian and the Stray Cats hit the road for the UK and Europe early on, as the Teddy Boy movement and the strong  love abroad for the Sun Records & rockabilly music legends (Elvis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, Duane Eddy, and many more) called them there to make their mark. Thierry (yep, he’s French) is a great guitarist and started out in the Rockabilly band Teen Kats back in the early 1980s, and met Brian and the boys while they were there touring Europe.  Le Coz moved to Austin, Texas in ’84, played with Will Sexton in Will and the Kill among others, and is still doing his thing. I love that pic of them, great style.

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THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN | BRITISH RACING LEGEND BARRY SHEENE


“Your arse, if you’re going fast enough.”

–Barry’s famous retort when asked by BBC, “What goes through your mind during a crash?”

In a brilliant racing career in which he amassed back-to-back World Championships (’76 & ’77), 23 Grand Prix victories, and 52 Podium finishes in all– the late, great Barry Sheene is one of the most loved and remembered motorcycle racing legends to this day. The victories alone, as impressive as they were, would not be enough immortalize the man. It was Sheene’s fearless spirit & iron will, a body that was repeatedly broken but not beaten, and his witty charm & handsome looks, that have eternally endeared him to racing fans around the world. It’s that old cliche– every woman wanted him, and every man wanted to be him.

Barry’s career was no doubt impacted by two major crashes that are forever a part of motorcycle racing history. The 1st occurred in 1975– at the Daytona 200, a locked rear wheel at 170 mph jerked him violently and Barry lost control. It’s a wonder he survived at all– amazingly, he didn’t even lose consciousness. In fact, he later recounted the crash in detail as the unforgiving track pummeled his flailing body. He suffered a shattered left leg, smashed thigh, broke six ribs, a wrist, and his collarbone.  When Barry awoke at the hospital, he didn’t miss a beat– asking the attending nurse for a fag (cigarette, for you Yanks out there). The 2nd came in 1982–  the two-time World Champion crashed (again going 170 mph) at Silverstone during practice for the British Grand Prix. Barry later recalled, “Wasn’t my fault; came over a hill and there was a wreck right in front of me.” They feared he’d never walk again, let alone return to the racetrack. His legs were compared to “crushed eggs,” taking eight hours to piece back together– with the aid of two stainless steel posts, two steel plates and almost 30 steel screws. After Barry was told he might be able to bend his knees in three months time, he did it in two and a half weeks– and returned to racing the following year. Some took to calling him– Bionic Barry. How you like them apples?

October 4th, 1958, Southwark, London– Motorcyclist Frank Sheene here pictured with his young son (the future legend Barry Sheene) at Club Day —Image by © Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis. Barry’s old man, Frank Sheene, was no slouch on a bike himself– and could even turn a wrench.  The young and fearless Barry was on a bike at the wee age of 5 yrs old–  a Ducati 50cc motorbike. He entered his first competitive race at the age of 17 at Brands Hatch. He Crashed, (DNF). Wasting no time, Barry entered again the very next weekend and won the bloody thing. The Barry Sheene racing dye was cast.

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BEFORE ELVIS THERE WAS NOTHING.

Saying that Elvis is an icon doesn’t quite cut it. There’s really never been anyone else who’s come along since that could fill his mammoth shoes in terms of talent, looks, style, presence and star power– and likely never will be. Don’t even think the words “Michael Jackson,” no way. Not. Even. Close. Jackson took a lot of style cues from Elvis, from his trim black pants, white socks, and black loafers– and obviously his slick dance moves were a tribute to the King’s infamous gyrations first unleashed back in ’56 on “The Milton Berle Show” and “The Ed Sullivan Show.” Those infamous performances (for which he was paid handsomely for, and drew ratings that were off the charts) instantly made him public enemy #1 with parents (who feared the effect that his racy “colored” music would have on their kids) as well as self-appointed decency censors and morality police across the nation.

Looking back on these epic Images of “The King of Rock & Roll”– it’s easy to see what all the fuss was about. Electrifying music, intense energy & sexuality– complete with bad boy sneer & stellar style. Elvis created a bold & sexy Rock Star image unrivaled by anyone– back when the fashion landscape was sterile and buttoned-up. And he did it all through sheer originality, determination and attitude.  The signature slick-backed hair was died so black– it actually had a blue tint.  The clothes went from fierce, flashy Rockabilly Badass to uber-Vegas Lizard King– yet through it all he was and still is, the one and only “King of Rock & Roll”– warts and all.

photo by the multi-talented Kate McQueen

“I happened to come along in the music business when there was no trend. “


The hair, the eyes, the sneer, the pelvis… Elvis

Memphis, 1956– Elvis Presley outside Jim’s Barber Shop on South Main Street. Looks like he’s gettin’ a ticket and funnin’ with the cop as only Elvis could.

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TSY STYLE HALL OF FAME | TOM WOLFE THE ORIGINAL THIN, WHITE DUKE

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“There are just two classes of men in the world, men with suits whose buttons are just sewn onto the sleeve, just some kind of cheapie decoration, or—yes!—men who can unbutton the sleeve at the wrist because they have real buttonholes and the sleeve really buttons up.”

The Secret Vice, by Tom Wolfe

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In 1952, a promising young pitching prospect out of Washington and Lee University showed up for a tryout with the New York Giants (the baseball Giants, that is– they hadn’t yet decamped for San Francisco).  The prospect made a decent showing: three innings, three men on base, no runs scored.  Good screwball, nice sinker, not much heat.  “If somebody had offered me a Class D professional contract,” says the prospect– whose name was Tom Wolfe– many decades later, “I would have gladly put off writing for a couple of decades.”  But the Giants cut Wolfe after two days, and he became a giant of another kind. (Via)

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From the desk of Contributing Editor, Eli M. Getson–

Recently, in the wake of the recession, Wall Street greed, and the wreckage of Lehman Brother, Merrill Lynch, Bear Sterns et al, the term “Master of The Universe” keeps getting thrown around to describe these fallen titans of Lower Manhattan.  Whenever I hear this term I always think of the man who penned it, my nominee for the TSY Style Hall of Fame, Tom Wolfe.

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1970s, New York City — Author Tom Wolfe — Image by © Bob Adelman/Corbis

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Cultural Chronicler is another term that also gets thrown around a lot– I mean one well reviewed novel and Bret Easton Ellis was the voice of his generation (I remember I lived through it), but few American wordsmiths can actually lay claim to writing about the people and events that shaped a lot of the last 50 years of the 20th Century as a largely inside observer, and in the process coining some phrases that became part of the popular lexicon.

Tom Wolfe always managed to get underneath the surface of events and reveal the most primal of human emotions-greed, arrogance, courage, humor, longing-and come up with phrases like “Radical Chic”, “The Me Generation”, “Social X-Ray”, “The Right Stuff”, and one of his favorites “Good Ol Boy” which he used to describe the racecar driver Junior Johnson.

Other than being an avid reader of Wolfe’s work I have a somewhat personal connection.  For a few years we lived in the same NYC neighborhood and while I can never say I spoke to him, he was impossible to miss.  A tall man, with an aquiline nose Wolfe was always decked in an immaculate white suit, high collar Jermyn Street custom dress shirt, splendid tie, pocket square that screamed dandy, white shoes, and occasionally white hat.  His style was very much like his writing, elegant but with a sense of humor and irony.  I mean who dresses like that anymore!  Yet Tom Wolfe looked crisp on the hottest of days.

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Tom Wolfe — the American journalist, pop critic and novelist, 1980. — Image by © Hulton-Deutsch Collection/CORBIS

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QB “BROADWAY JOE” NAMATH | NEW YORK, BROADS & BOLD PREDICTIONS

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From the desk of Contributing Editor, Eli M. Getson–

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Teammate Sherman Plunkett gave Namath his nickname after seeing this 1965 Sports Illustrated cover with Namath standing in front of New York City’s infamous avenue. The Hall of Famer lived up to the name with both his brash fur coats and bold predictions, the most well known coming in 1969 when he guaranteed his 19-point underdog Jets would defeat the Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III. They did, 17-6, and Namath was named MVP.  Photographed by: James Drake for Sports Illustrated

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Try to wrap your head around this–  you’re the quarterback for the New York Jets in 1968-69; leading an upstart team from the counterculture AFL into Super Bowl III against the heavily-favored Baltimore Colts. You’re the poster-boy in the battle of the longhairs and freaks (Jets) versus the ultimate symbol of straight, corporate NFL excellence  (Colts).  You’re young, very single, and beyond sexy — like catnip to the ladies — you own NY.  You have that sense of immortality that comes with being young, rich, and very, very good.

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New York Jets quarterback Joe Namath lounges by the pool with press and fans before Super Bowl III.  Photographed by: Walter Iooss Jr. for Sports Illustrated

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To say it’s a charmed life is the understatement of the century.  Those heady days leading up to Super Bowl III, rewrote the script for the celebrity athlete, the Super Bowl, and the fortunes of an upstart league of misfits, outlaws & free spirits.  No matter what happened afterward, Joe Namath etched himself into our collective consciousness in that first month of ‘69.  We all dreamt of being like Joe–carousing Manhattan’s hottest spots all hours of the night with a blond and brunette as bookends, armed with a bottle of Jack, letting it all hang out– and still having enough to burn the Raiders the next day.  Dick Schaap, Namath biographer (and later co-host of the Joe Namath Show), said he witnessed just this before the AFL Championship that year.  A legendary story celebrated by us fans– the ultimate testament to how cocksure our QB was.  Today he would have been pilloried for his lack of “focus”, back then we celebrated how fun it all was and lived vicariously through “Broadway Joe”.

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Circa 1970– Rome, N.Y.: Jets’ star quarterback Joe Namath turns equestrian for his role in the forthcoming motion picture, C.C and Company. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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We all know what happened next– Miami, The Orange Bowl, the “Guarantee”, and then going out and making it happen.  Miami Beach must have been a helluva good time that week.  New York is a demanding town– you come to be great or be gone.   If you can back up your bravado with action and bring home the prize then we will love you forever, no matter how much you embarrass yourself or us later on.  We owe you that much for the memories alone.

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BRING BACK THE ‘STACHE. | MEN, MUSTACHES, MARVELS AND MISSTEPS

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I’ll say it– I’m a fan of the mustache.  Sadly, we saw the ‘stache fall largely by the wayside over the past few decades as pretty boys seemed fixated on primping, grooming, moisturizing, metrosexualizing, etc. in a vain and sissy attempt to one-up the ladies in the looks department.  Let the ladies be pretty.  Let the men be men.  I say — Bring. Back. The. ‘Stache.  Not the pencil-thin, or micro groomed razor-sharp manifestations that border on ridiculous.  Not the peach-fuzz, thin-lipped scummer ‘stache.  Not the Teddy Roosevelt waxed work-of-art on some hipster who lacks respect and context.  I’m talkin’ about an honest, unassuming mustache that’s there because it fits the wearer’s form and finishes him off– like dotting an “i”, crossing a “t”, or adding an exclamation point.

Now consider yourself warned — the mustache can cut both ways.  While it can add character and distinction, balance your features, etc. — it can also make you look like a total _____ .  So tread carefully, and be honest with yourself — because it ain’t for everyone.  Ask Sean Penn.

And feel free to send in your favorite shots — the good, the bad, and the downright ugly.

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Jack Nicholson in The Last Detail (1973).  I’ve always liked Jack with a ‘stache.  Menacing.

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Circa 1970 — Robert Redford on his Utah mountain ranch.  Nobody could ride the ‘stache like Redford.  Image by John Dominis

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Charles Bronson –1970’s vigilante badass who let his mustache do the talkin’

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Frank Zappa — Arguably the ultimate mustachioed rock star to ever walk the planet.  –Photo by Jerry Schatzberg, New York City, 1967

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LEGENDARY CLASH STYLE | FROM PUNK ROCK ROUGH TO SARTORIAL SMOOTH

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Joe Strummer of The Clash, LA 1983.  (Photo by Ann Summa/Getty Images)

Joe Strummer of The Clash, LA 1983. (Photo by Ann Summa/Getty Images)

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I don’t know if there’s a band that has inspired me over the years in terms of style more than The Clash. The way they could effortlessly mix punk and street style with sartorial flair and make it look so effortless and cool was intoxicating.  The mix of tailored suits with suede creepers, Doc Marten boots (back when they were a symbol of rebellion, rather than conformity) funky accessories and headwear was pure art.

The Clash definitely pioneered rock & roll fashion during the 80s and kept things tasty when the rock and fashion world was getting, well, wierd.  The true master of style in the band,  in my humble opinion, was not Joe Strummer or Mick Jones– it was the cool cat bass player, Paul Simonon.

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The Clash, legends of music and 1980's rocker fashion. Photo by Rex USA ( 88672C )

The Clash, legends of music and 1980's rocker fashion. Photo by Rex USA ( 88672C )

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DENNIS HOPPER’S “THE LAST MOVIE” | THE FILM THAT BURIED A VISIONARY

Dennis Hopper and wife Daria Halprin at the Jack Tar Hotel San Francisco.

Dennis Hopper and wife Daria Halprin at the Jack Tar Hotel, San Francisco.

From The Village Voice–

The Last Movie was actually to be Hopper’s first. Inspiration hit him in Durango, Mexico, during the making of the John Wayne western The Sons of Katie Elder— “I thought, my God, what’s going to happen when the movie leaves and the natives are left living in these Western sets?” Hopper hoped to make The Last Movie in 1966 but the project fell through when music producer Phil Spector withdrew financial support; his opportunity came in the wake of Easy Rider. Universal gave Hopper $850,000 and total autonomy (including final cut), so long as he stayed within budget.

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 American actor and director Dennis Hopper on the set of his film "The last Movie"  --1971.

Actor and director Dennis Hopper on the set of his film “The last Movie”, 1971. — Image by © Apis/Sygma/Corbis

Given Easy Rider‘s epochal success, The Last Movie was the most eagerly awaited picture of 1971. After winning an award at the Venice Film Festival, Hopper’s opus opened in New York and broke the single-day box office record at the RKO 59th Street theater, site of Easy Rider‘s triumphant engagement. But unlike Hopper’s first film, The Last Movie was attacked and ridiculed by virtually every reviewer in America and was withdrawn by its distributor within two weeks. Although it achieved a negative notoriety unsurpassed until Heaven’s Gate,The Last Movie was not a financial boondoggle. Hopper’s sin wasn’t wasting money—it was something far worse. The Last Movie is an act of visionary aggression that desecrates Hollywood’s universal church.

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American actor and director Dennis Hopper on the set of his movie, 1971.  -- Image by © Apis/Sygma/Corbis

Actor and director Dennis Hopper on the set of his film “The Last Movie”, 1971. — Image by © Apis/Sygma/Corbis

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KEITH RICHARDS & GRAM PARSONS 1971 | SUMMER IN EXILE @ VILLA NELLCOTE

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In the summer of ’71, The Rolling Stones, seeking shelter from their UK tax woes, exiled to the South of France.  Keith Richards set up house with Anita Pallenberg and their son Marlon in Villa Nellcôte— a 16 room waterfront mansion that once served as Gestapo headquarters for the Nazis during WWII.  The infamy continued with it now best remembered among rock fans as the grand flop-house where Exile On Main Street was recorded.

French photographer Dominique Tarle chronicled perhaps the most notorious house party ever, and had full access to goings-on over a period of six crazy months.  He later recounted to the New York Times– ”They built a studio in the basement of Keith’s house because the band knew it would be easiest for Keith,” says Dominique Tarlé, who had an all-access pass inside the villa for six months. “Engineers and technicians slept over, illegal power lines from the French railway system juiced their instruments, and when the temperature hit 100, they rehearsed with their pants off.  A carnival of characters paraded through– Terry Southern, Gram Parsons, John Lennon, even a tribal band from Bengal… dope dealers from Marseille; petty thieves, who stole most of the drugs and half the furniture; and hangers-on, all of them there to witness what was happening.”

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Keith Richards & Gram Parsons

Keith Richards & Gram Parsons

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