The breakthrough moment for the bikini came at Piscine Molitor in Paris – that sleek, soulful, al fresco pool in the 16th arrondissement where the jazz age is still alive and well. It was there, in 1946, that the two-piece was debuted to “ooh la las”. The same moment for men came in 1968. The Swimmer, Eleanor and Frank Perry’s surreal big-screen adaptation of John Cheever’s mysterious story, catapulted men’s swimwear into the mainstream as the world and its mores changed in a spectacular explosion of liberation. The old rule book was ripped up. No more staid conventions. Burt Lancaster, its lead, called it “Death Of A Salesman in swimming trunks”. He spent most of the film wearing a pair in his bizarre quest to swim home via all the pools in a New England town.