THE JOURNAL
Mr Ralph Lauren, Polo AW85. Photograph by Mr Bruce Weber
On the eve of the 50th anniversary of his Polo brand, MR PORTER takes a look at the American designer’s pioneering spirit.
A baseball. Superhero figurines. Rows of miniature cowboy boots. These are the first things Mr Ralph Lauren sees when he reaches his desk at his company’s Madison Avenue headquarters. A monumental Mr Woodrow Blagg graphite drawing of a rider wrangling a horse hangs on the back wall. Vintage model aeroplanes hang suspended from the ceiling. It might not be oval-shaped, but as far as offices go, it’s American through and through – and thoroughly “Ralph”.
“I grew up playing basketball and baseball. I wanted to be Joe DiMaggio and then I wanted to be a movie star,” Mr Lauren writes in Ralph Lauren, the retrospective published to celebrate his brand’s 50th anniversary this year. “I never knew I was going to become a designer. I didn’t even know what a designer was.” The rags-to-riches tale of how it happened, how a boy from The Bronx established himself as one of the greatest living American designers and built a $7.5 billion empire, spanning clothes, fragrance, homeware and even restaurants, is now fashion lore.
Mr Doug Meyer, Polo SS86. Photograph by Mr Bruce Weber
Mr Kevin Rice, Polo SS02. Photograph by Mr Arnaldo Anaya
That story starts in 1967, when the then 28-year-old Mr Lauren started selling wide, patterned ties for the likes of Beau Brummel, Brooks Brothers and Bloomingdales, using the Polo name for the first time the next year. Even back then, the designer knew that dressing wasn’t just about the clothes you wore: it was about what they represented; how you felt when you put them on; what they said about who you were. “I am promoting a level of taste, a total feeling,” is what he told the Daily News Record. “It is important to show the customer how to wear these ties, the idea behind them.” What he was selling, people were buying, because – like the polo shirts and camel coats that were soon to come – no one else was doing anything like it.
My vision hasn’t changed. I don’t want what I created in 1967 to be old or what I created in 2017 to be new
Being ahead of the curve is a common thread throughout Mr Lauren’s long and storied career. The unlined madras suit that earned him his first Coty Award in 1970 was a prototype for the droves of unstructured blazers you’ll find on MR PORTER today. The field jacket hanging in your wardrobe? You have 1982’s celebrated safari-inspired collection to thank for that. As for everyone’s current obsession with streetwear, pieces from his 1990s sportswear line – such as the “Snow Beach” pullover worn by Wu-Tang Clan’s Raekwon or the “’Lo goose” down jacket he raps about on “C.R.E.A.M.” – sell for thousands on eBay nowadays. “I started with the origins of tradition, but I was not bound by it,” the designer explains of his approach when he first began designing menswear. And, 50 years down the line, that pioneering spirit is still going strong: “My vision continues to be as it was in the beginning. It hasn’t changed. I don’t want what I created in 1967 to be old or what I created in 2017 to be new,” he says. Instead, he’s made the pursuit of timelessness his life’s work.
RRL AW93. Photograph by Mr Kurt Markus
The comparisons to Jay Gatsby have come thick and fast through the years – both are self-made men, both changed their names, both appreciate the importance of a well-tailored shirt – but while Mr F Scott Fitzgerald’s magnum opus offered up a wistful indictment of the American Dream, Mr Lauren’s vision of his homeland is, and always has been, steadfastly optimistic. And, instead of beating against the current, he’s always been ahead of it. His anniversary show, held in Central Park last month, is one of the clearest expressions of that forward-looking vision: the dream world he’s made reality for himself and the people who wear his creations. The guest list was a who’s who of US royalty. Mr Kayne West was in attendance. So, too, was Ms Hillary Clinton and Mr Bruce Springsteen. As for the collection itself, it was a melting pot of his greatest hits – a mash-up of three of the brand’s most distinct personalities: preppy Polo, ranch-inspired RRL and clean-cut Purple Label. To the tune of Mr Paul Simon’s “New York Is My Home”, models walked out in patchworked plaid coats. A tweed blazer worn over denim overalls. A varsity bomber atop a waistcoat and club tie. Mr Lauren himself wore a tuxedo jacket with faded, broken-in jeans.
Mr Ted Dawson, AW77. Photograph by Mr Les Goldberg
Mr Tim Easton, Polo Cruise 1988. Photograph by Bruce Weber
“I have always loved contradiction and the unexpected,” he says. “When Ricky and I first started going to black-tie events, I hated wearing a straight tuxedo. I felt that I had somehow lost my identity. I’d wear my jeans and boots with a tuxedo jacket or a Western shirt and cowboy tie.” It’s these unexpected contradictions that have distinguished him from the very start and singled him out as one of the greats. While some designers spend their careers perfecting just one signature look, Mr Lauren has offered his homeland countless ways to dress.
Because Ralph’s American dream world isn’t just East Egg; it’s West Egg, too. It’s country clubs and cattle ranches; it’s the bleachers at Fenway Park and Harvard’s Ivy-covered campus; it’s as much Hollywood as it is the wild Wild West. For the past 50 years, Mr Lauren has been telling the US stories about itself, and the nation, in return, has never failed to provide him with a steady stream of inspiration. As for the next chapter? The man himself puts it best: “I like to break the rules. Starting with my ties, I always have.”
