Remember when, back in the nineteen forties, Barbara Hutton was chucked out of the Paris Ritz? If memory has failed you, Hutton was wearing... culottes.
Standards of convention in dress certainly have digressed a helluvalot since then, eh? But the iconic Westwood/McClaren t-shirt, with a rather risqué Tom of Finland drawing silkscreened on it, still manages to cock more than just a few eyebrows -- a whopping thirty years after Sid Vicious wore his! I spotted this youthquaker on the subway last night. And quite a fine specimen he is, indeed. Skinny as the aforementioned Woolworth heiress and the punk god, the boy radiates the bloom of youth to imbue the now-classic garment with a certain somethin'.
