Chipp (1953)

Every so often an item pops up on eBay that somehow needs to be preserved. I am not necessarily talking about museum pieces, but rather curios that folks cut from a certain cloth just are interested in - or rather should be interested in.

Print ad, Gentry magazine, late-1952
purloined from The Ivy League Look

This wool odd jacket is one such item. Bearing the label of custom tailor Chipp, the item has the added bonus of a genuine date: September 11, 1953. What a garment like this represents is an actual connection to the past beyond the grip of latter-day Internet-based theoreticians and speculators. It is a glimpse of what actually was. These types of items help put things into perspective; they help answer a few questions - and perhaps prompt one to ask other questions.

The Chipp story is well documented elsewhere, particularly in this Ivy Style piece. In short, the operation was started in 1947 by Sidney Winston and Lou Praeger, two J. Press refugees keen to break out on their own. Their New York address was within curling distance of the mighty 346 Madison Avenue address of Brooks Brothers and were, at their peak, certainly vying for the same clientele if not a true competitor. Peter Lawford was a client and it was the Brother-in-Lawford himself that introduced Senator John F. Kennedy to the joys of Chipp. Kennedy was perhaps the company's most famous patron who continued having his suits made by Chipp into his presidency. Almost needless to say, it is one of those Ivy League legends often mentioned in the same breath as The Andover Shop, et al.

So what should be said about this particular example of Chipp's handiwork? Well, let's take into consideration the year first: 1953. One would expect much wider lapels based on contemporaneous photos and movies. In fact, it is remarkable how narrow the lapels are even with the button on center stance (yes, I am still trying to get in the habit of using that one over 3/2 button).

The cut, in general, looks more 1963 than 1953 - but again, that can be chalked up to the slight of hand tricks of history books. The shoulders? As natural as can be. The wool check pattern itself certainly smacks of the 1950s - walking the line between a classic Northeast country tweed and something Lanksy Brothers in Memphis would sell to a Beale Streeter or their world-be imitators.

A couple of final shots in the spirit of preservation for the ages, such as it would be...

Brooks Brothers (1940)

Print ad, Brooks Brothers Clothing, New Yorker magazine, 1940

The Internet is a funny thing. No earth-shattering statement there for sure, but it is very interesting how much our culture and society has changed over the past 2 decades and how much of that has to do with technology in general and the Internet in particular. Scholarship, research, and eduction are only 3 areas which have been drastically effected by the way we all communicate and share information. What does this have to do with Brooks Brothers in 1940? The emergence/re-emergence/codification of what is now know as Ivy League Style has increased significantly over the past decade due in a great part to the Internet. Online forums and blogs have become clearing houses of information, shared experiences, core knowledge, and (sometimes) interesting discourse. It has also become the breeding ground for a lot of misconceptions due to poor research habits. 

There was a time when primary resources were arguably the only resources that held water. Everything else - such as faint (or vivid for the matters) memories of events fifty years in the past - was secondary in every sense of the word. There were also standards of citation which the Internet has perhaps most effectively done away with. Is all of this bad? No, not necessarily. But it has helped create an increasingly hyper-informed and under-educated society. 

But again you ask, what does this have to do with Brooks Brothers circa 1940? OK, I will answer the questions. The above scan from a primary source shows the classic Brooks Brothers OCBD (Google those initials for a good time) in 1940. Now what is interesting to me is not that only 2 colors (white, blue) were available. Nor is it that a US-made Brooks Brothers shirt cost the equivalent of around $30 in 2014 dollars. No. What strikes me most is that it features a breast pocket! Why is that so important? Well, general internet knowledge ™holds that Brooks Brothers did not add breast pockets to their shirts until 1965 or so. Much has been written and discussed around that. I bought into it wholesale for sure, taking it as fact and being uncharacteristically ambivalent about digging deeper. Certainly - or at least as far as I know - the Brooks OCBD lost its pocket some time between 1940 and 1965, but when? Why? 

My challenge to all of us that are interested, if not fascinated in these slowly vanishing traces of 20th Century culture is to dig deeper. Do your homework. Know your sources. Quote your sources. Edit your work. I suspect these words I type right now may very well last longer than the fingers that type them. 

The MIT Chapel (1955)

The MIT Chapel, design by Eero Saarinen 1953-1956, photo by editor 2013

When one speaks of mid-century modern, I suppose one could not get any more mid than the year 1950. And it was in that year that the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), engaged Finnish-Amerian architect and industrial designer Eero Saarinen to design a chapel and auditorium on the grounds its campus located in Cambridge just across the Charles River from Boston. The Boston area is rarely thought of as a haven for modernism in the design sense: it is a North American city with deep and significant historical roots stretching back long before the American Revolution and much of the urban renewal that brought about New Boston occurred long-after the modernist ideal had been supplanted by later notions. But MIT was progressive in this sense, the legacy of which can still be seen  on its campus today.

Eero Saarinen, 1950

Saarinen at mid-century had a string of notable achievements and was a known quantity within the design community. His collaboration with Charles Eames resulted in recognition by the MOMA in New York City as well as their participation in the Case Study House program in California (Number 9 to be exact). Eero had spent a good portion of the 1940s working in his father's architecture firm but after the death of the elder Saarinen in July of 1950, the younger launched a shop of his own. At just 85 years old in that same year, MIT was something of a young university - particular compared to its many esteemed and much longer in the tooth neighbors. In some ways, it lacked the traditions that a school such as Harvard had by that time, which may account for it's more forward-thinking artistic engagements.

Interior, The MIT Chapel, photo by editor 2013

The Saarinen MIT commission spanned a period of approximately 6 years. After his selection by the university, Eero shifted his focus on a similar commission for Brandeis University in neighboring Waltham. The Saarinen chapel at Brandeis was eventually scrapped by the planning board as they could not come to an agreement on some of the basic details with the architect. Their loss was certainly MIT's gain, as Eero infused his next project with many of the more interesting and innovation design ideas that he had proposed for the larger structure at Brandeis. He also drew upon his travels in the mid-1930s through the ancient world, particularly Greece and specifically Sparta, which directly influenced his skylight design. Construction began in 1953 and was for the most part completed by 1955, although the roof sculpture was not added until the following year.

Podium sculpture, Harry Bertoia, The MIT Chapel, photo by editor 2013

The resulting building remains as stunning today as I expect it was on it's dedication day. Saarinen created a haven: a place of remarkable peace and tranquility. The brick, wood, and marble evokes the  pre-Christian world refashioned into something modern yet timeless. His use of light - both natural and artificial - is masterful.  The final touches are both contributions from other artists. Harry Bertoia, who like Eames had first met Eero at Cranbrook University, provided the metal sculpture which descends from the ceiling to the base of the podium/altar. Other writers have focused on the speculative literal meaning of the piece, but it is simply a beautiful accent that deflects the incoming light in a hundred different direction. Interpret it as you wish. Theodore Roszak designed the abstract bell tower or spire which was added to the building in 1956.

The MIT Chapel is a singular structure: devoid of any denomination, yet vibrantly spiritual and a shrine to solace. I would expect - if not hope - that its chairs have been full these past couple of weeks.