One comment (the only comment, actually) on my SURFER Q&A yesterday about the origins of surf fashion was from Orange Raindrop, who wrote: “The problem with Californians is their femininish concern for fashion. Just go surf like no one is watching and you don’t have Instagram you fucking self-righteous clowns.”
The second sentence I agree with. The first sentence, come on, I’ve been in Seattle for going on seven years, which means I was practically raised here. And also, my concern for fashion isn’t femininish, it is masculinish, it is dark like the corn on my big toe after a day in flip-flops, it is the scent of my right armpit after four cups of coffee. Hate me anonymously in the SURFER comments section, Orange Raindrop, but I am a Man, and I am occasionally interested in fashion.
Anyway, surf fashion had some early highs, then some lows, then more lows, and actually it’s been pretty much all lows since 1964. As I see it, from my vantage point here in Seattle (not California), the lowest surf fashion lows were 1967 and 1982.
Let’s start with 1967 . . .
Mostly, when you break down the bad in 1967, it’s the vests. Just the vests. Vests on the beach.
Model on the far left, I think Chas Smith would agree, is owning the look, feeling it, is maybe even a bit enlarged by it. Model on far right needs to walk off the set, put on his Katins, and repent.
The surf-world racing stripe died this day. Stripe the board, or the trunks, or the jacket. All three? Get the fuck out of here.