Motorcycle Week

If there’s one thing you can say about Steve McQueen it’s that the man’s garnered a lotta ink over the years. I think it’s impossible to have any sort of conversation about style without seeing McQueen’s name pop up at least once, I mean I personally have mentioned him in every post this week, but I’m not going to apologize for that one. It seems that everyone’s approached the McQueen story in one way or another at this point, but that doesn’t make it any less interesting and if there was ever a time for me to give the man a proper write up, it would be this week.

Looking at actors these days, there’s just something amiss about them. Everyone’s too polished, too rehearsed, too public, too egotistical, it all just feels wrong. How can I relate to people that I can’t even respect? If you look at actors from the sixties and seventies they did things, real things that were downright admirable. They rode motorcycles, gave to charity, smirked at the camera, got arrested, made mistakes, and all they while acted at the top of their game. Of course, every one of those feats that I just listed belong to one man in particular, Steve McQueen.

So why McQueen? What exactly made and still makes him so revered as the “King of Cool.” Personally, I feel that the answer lies in his love for motorcycles. The fact that McQueen rode like he did, not for the publicity, because it was something he sincerely enjoyed, tells us everything about why he became so prolific. It wasn’t about him being some calculated machine for Hollywood to control, he was just a man who had a rough upbringing that was one part farm life, one part city life, and filled with wild situations throughout (I won’t delve into this here because his story is a winding one, but if you get a chance you should all read about McQueen’s formative years, they were undeniably fascinating.) McQueen was an ex-Marine, with a troubled past, who rode motorcycles, and not to over-simplify things, but I’d say that’s a pretty damn good summary as to why the man became so legendary both on and off screen.

McQueen was not merely a collector, although he certainly did that, amassing over a hundred bikes in his day, but he was a venerable competitor as well. In an interview McQueen once admitted that his passion for moto-racing stemmed back to a tricycle that his great-uncle had given him as a toddler, but it was in the sixties that he really made his mark in the racing world. Even as he was becoming one of Hollywood’s most well known actors, McQueen competed in grueling off-road races such as the Baja 100 and the International Six Day Trial. Those images of McQueen, dressed in a mud covered moto-jacket and smiling as wide as he can, have been engrained in the male psyche for decades. Let’s face it, we’ve all felt emasculated by a McQueen photo at one time or another, but that’s the point. In this era everyone’s so preoccupied with everything being perfect, I look at a photo of McQueen at the end of a brutal dirt-bike race and he looks better than anyone out there today. McQueen’s shirts were faded because he broke them in himself, his clothes fit him well because he wore them to death, he looked comfortable and happy because he was, and he was so damn cool because he didn’t fake it, he just lived it.

The Vespa – An Icon of Italian Design

July 11, 2012

History, Italian, Motorcycle Week, Soft Shoulder, Sport Coats, Suits, Vespa

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Heading into this week I had thoughts of biker gangs, Indian cycles, Steve McQueen, and all the American pride that goes along with that, but as I’ve started to dig into these posts, I’ve been preoccupied with something from the other side of the Atlantic. It could be the summer heat or just the seemingly unflappable popularity of Italian style, but the Vespa just seems to fit right into my current state of mind.

The First Vespa, the MP-6

Post-war Italy was in disastrous shape, with most of their industries left all but gutted, and Piaggo & Co. had taken one of the biggest hits. During World War Two the company had been a major producer of fighter planes for the Italian military, but the allies bombed their factories to oblivion over the course of the campaign. After the dust settled Enrico Piaggo, who’s father Rinaldo had founded the company, decided it was time to start anew, leaving the aviation industry behind, he began to steer the company in a new direction. Enrico had a vision for a contemporary and affordable invention that would revolutionize the way the Italian’s lived their lives as they rebuilt their country.

Always searching for that edge, the U.S. was constantly sending over new technologies from the states throughout the war. Once such vehicle was the Cushman scooter, a vehicle small and maneuverable enough to bypass the Nazi’s attempts at bombing out roads and bridges. It was that scooter that gave the company their inspiration to create a vehicle never before available to the Italian people. The first attempt was led by designers, Renzo Spolti and Vittorio Casini in 1944, they dubbed their invention the Paperino, or Donald Duck in Italian, but their design was closer to a typical motorcycle than something revolutionary and Enrico instantly rejected it.

Dissatisfied with the work of his in-house team, he decided to call in an outsider, aeronautical engineer Corradino D’Ascanio, who delivered the first Vespa in 1946. D’Ascanio hated motorcycles, proclaiming them bulky and impractical, so he aimed for something compact and lightweight. What he developed was a two-wheeled, step through scooter, with the engine in the rear, and an enclosed chain mechanism. Upon seeing the scooter, Enrico emphatically proclaimed “Sembra una vespa!,” or ”it looks like a wasp!” and the name just stuck. Piaggo promptly patented the vehicle, began cranking them out using “Ford-style” mass manufacturing and promptly launched it to the public during the 1946 Milan Fair.

At first people were a bit confused, the design was unlike anything they’d seen before and they didn’t exactly know how to respond to it, but nonetheless they began to sell, and slowly but surely the Vespa began to take over the streets of Italy. The Italian people were starving for something to get excited about and the inexpensive, agile scooter was exactly what they needed. In just a few years Piaggo’s sales had climbed to over fifty thousand Vespas annually. From the businessman riding to work in his unstructured Navy suit, to the teenager cruising around in a half buttoned dress shirt and scuffed up loafers, the Vespa became an integral part of Italian life.

The international push came in 1952 with the release of Roman Holiday, as Gregory Peck rolled through the Roman streets with Audrey Hepburn at his side sales skyrocketed. With interest piquing Vespa expanded production and sales throughout the world, marketing the scooters as a paragon of that incredibly desirable laid-back Italian attitude. With new markets came even greater success and by 1956 Vespa sales reached into the millions. Over the years the Vespa has gone beyond it’s Italian roots, taking on new meaning for each generation. During the sixties it was the mods in England, for whom the inexpensive vehicles meant freedom. The young Mod rocker, riding around in a kitted out Vespa all decked out in a slim fitting suit and matching wingtips was a common sight throughout London for years. Beyond that everyone from the Japanese, to Hollywood stars, to American urbanites have had a love affair with the Vespa at one time or another, drawn in by that uniquely appealing Italian design.

Luca Rubinacci

Patrizio Cappelli

Barbour and Belstaff – The Battle of the Belted Moto Jacket

July 9, 2012

British, England, History, Motorcycle, Motorcycle Week, Outerwear

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A few days ago I ventured out to The Navy Yard for dinner with my friend Jahn Hall of Brooklyn Dry Goods. Over the course of the meal he mentioned a recent stockpile of vintage surplus that he and his business partner Kurt Uhlendorf had just acquired. I was intrigued so after dinner Jahn took me out to his stockroom where he showed me what was probably one of the most impressive hauls of military garb I’ve ever seen. Amongst some phenomenal pieces that I’m sure Jahn and Kurt will be putting out over the next month or so was a military issue cotton motorcycle jacket from the early twentieth century. The jacket’s four bellow pockets and pinched waist led Jahn and I to conclude that it was probably an early version of a motorcycle jacket as the secured waist allowed the jacket to fan out over the rider’s legs while seated. It instantly reminded me of Barbour and Belstaff, two companies who’s jackets seemed to be refined versions of this primitive military model.

The military jacket that I took a look at was pretty rough, but for that time it’s to be expected, the jacket wasn’t intended to really look good, and manufacturing wasn’t exactly consistent back then. Although back in the civilian world, the motorcycle continued to gain popularity, and as it did, the necessity for a readily available dedicated motorcycle jacket increased. To answer this demand Belstaff and Barbour elaborated on these early designs to make their own jacket’s, both of which remain not only iconic, but also a touch controversial today.

Belstaff was the first to make a move in 1924 when Eli Belovitch and his son in law Harry Grosberg opened up shop in Staffordshire, England, creating jackets specifically tailored for the new crop of motorcyclists that wearing popping up across the United Kingdom. The two men were the first to use waxed cotton, creating a waterproof jacket that wouldn’t weigh down the riders. Their early designs were these large, robe-like pieces with flap collars and big belts across the middle, which certainly didn’t look great but could withstand anything a rider might face on the muddy road of the English countryside. Throughout the thirties Belstaff began to adapt their designs, creating shorter, more lightweight pieces, yet right around this time, Barbour arrived on the scene with their take on the moto jacket.

In 1936, Barbour came out with the International, a jacket dedicated to the International Six Day Trails, a grueling off road race through Carlisle, England. Over a decade later in 1948, Belstaff debuted the Trialmaster, a jacket that would eventually be worn by Che Guevera and championship riders across the world. But here’s the deal with the two jackets, barring the International’s patch on the right side, and the Trialmaster’s shoulder details, they’re practically identical. From the cropped body and the belted waist, to the four flap pockets, to the throat latch, and the large glove-friendly zipper, the number of characteristics that these two jackets share is pretty remarkable.

Over the years Barbour and Belstaff have gone back and forth on their status as the “most legendary” of motorcycle jackets. Steve McQueen had a well documented love for both Barbour and Belstaff (a fact that both companies equally brag about), riders across the globe have been sponsored by both brands at one time or another, and to this day arguments still arise about which jacket truly has the edge. There really isn’t any clear cut answer to this question. People have their own personal preference, but this much is certain, both brands are undoubtedly reaping the benefits of the recent resurgence of people returning to the classics. The fact that I’m even writing about two jacket’s that are over seventy years old, speaks volumes about the respective brand’s current success. Barbour, with their recent advertising and retail push and Steve McQueen collection are certainly trying to capitalize on this movement. And then there’s Belstaff, who’ve taken a different route by actually turning to the runway, moving the brand into the realm of high fashion. As evidenced by their Spring 2013 show that just occurred a couple weeks ago, Belstaff is riffing on their own moto-heritage, taking the belted jacket and somehow turning it into something luxurious.