In Praise of Gaudy

There's this one untitled shot by the photographer Gay Block from her photos of South Beach retirees, shot in the early 1980s, that some people might say has “incredible energy.” It’s of an older woman with multiple gold necklaces dripping around her neck, a leopard print pillbox hat on her head, and what looks like not one but two big cat print jackets, one on top of the other. Whenever I look at it, I can’t help but think the Miami bubbe looks very proto-A$AP Rocky, who’d look perfect in his own version of the outfit.

More than anything, it’s the print. She’s got a lot of leopard print. The pattern never really goes out of style; it’s in a constant state of coming and going. Every few years you’ll see Supreme drop something in it, from the brand’s iconic Kate Moss shot to North Face collabs to re-imagining the classic Barbour Bedale jacket. Gucci does a lot in the print; Comme des Garçons does as well; even Vans recently added an option to customize leopard print sneakers. It can be as simple as a pair of socks from Anonymous Ism, or a New Era fitted with the Yankees logo in the brown and yellow spots.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time in South Florida around swimming pools, public beaches and retirement homes from Boca Raton to Surfside, and so there’s a certain appeal I find in Gay’s picture. It’s almost comforting, like the click of a mahjong tile. Still, leopard print is a pattern I’m equally interested in and repulsed by for a number of reasons, the biggest being that I came of age during the rockabilly and swing revivals of the 1990s and so I often have nightmares of Vince Vaughn yelling “You’re money, baby.” (To say nothing of the mere existence of the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies.) On the other hand, I’m interested in leopard and cheetah print because there’s something undeniably gaudy about it, and we could all use a little more gaudy in our lives.

But what, exactly, is gaudy? Gaudy is misunderstood. It’s often confused with camp, and connects back to words like “cheap” or “tasteless,” but it also could mean “flamboyant” or “glitzy.” It’s a little of the old razzle-dazzle, but it should also be measured on a case-by-case basis. Some people like a lot of pop; others just need a little.

Whatever your position on gaudy, there’s never been a better time to give it a try than right now. It feels like men’s style is trying to make up for its historical gaudy shortages, and how heritage brands, browns and blues, and the toughest selvage denim were often the name of the game. While old workboots or whatever Carhartt gear you copped to go drink natural wine looks great, it can all get a little rigid—a desperate grasp at the idea of masculinity.

But looking over a list like the finalists for last year’s Most Stylish Man bracket, the one thing that popped out was, well, everything that popped out. This is a good time for those that love to zhush it up: toss on some pearls or a charm necklace from Susan Alexandra like Pete Davidson, wear a velvet cranberry suit like Daniel Craig, or simply bask in the fact that Steve Harvey walks among us. None of these looks smack of cheap, given the fact that it’s celebrities we’re talking about, but there is a little tasteless fun. Eye-popping suits or a colorful necklace around your neck are flamboyant and glitzy. It’s razzle-dazzle, and it is fun as hell.

Gaudy is good—we should all embrace it a bit more, and nothing allows us to do that quite like leopard print. For me—somebody who has set up some comfort zones in terms of what I will and won’t wear—approaching the big cat took a little caution. I had to find something that really spoke to me, and I found that in a pair of slippers. Namely, Anthony Sylvester’s AWMS Grecian ones, inspired by a pair the author Paul Bowles wore at his winter home in Sri Lanka. That was my gateway leopard, so to speak.

When I ask Sylvester a little bit more about the idea behind the slippers, he tells me that he also had similar apprehensions to leopard print due to similar feelings of dislike or bias that likely connect back to whatever subculture you may have attached yourself to as a teen. (e.g., the 32-year-old making six figures who owns his own apartment, and still feels an attachment to what he believes is “punk.”)

“Growing up in hardcore and skating subcultures, the pattern de choix was camouflage. I'd always joke that in menswear, camo was a ‘neutral’ just like animal print in womenswear, in the sense that it goes with everything and works with other patterns,” says Sylvester, whose personal style would fit at both a Gorilla Biscuits matinee show and an English country estate. “From there it was a simple equation to realize they're essentially the same; if you can wear camouflage, you can rock animal prints.”

You don’t even have to go the leopard print route if you don’t want to; the only rule of gaudy is really “you do you.” As Sylvester points out, the roots of the word “gaudy” come from the Latin “to rejoice,” and there is no easier way to add a little joy than by adding a little (or a lot) bright color, a beaded necklace, or anything else a Boca bubbe may have worn to play shuffleboard.

“I think the culture of fit pics and Insta likes has made the realm of menswear a safer, more conservative place,” Sylvester says. “I like hovering just at the mark of what's considered classic or acceptable and then playing brinkmanship with it. Words like ‘gaudy’ or ‘ugly’ or ‘distasteful’ are sort of challenges in a way — gauntlets thrown down to answer with ‘Yes, but…’ I want to see people pushing the envelope a little.”