What's a 'classic' anyway?

What's a 'classic' anyway?

Old's Cool — (adj) used approvingly to suggest the way things were is sometimes better than the way things are.

Caitlin: OMG, Dad, when did you get those beautifully beat-up Bean boots? Mine've been on back order since, like, last September.

Dad: '83.

We're having another contest – we'd like to know how you'd define a classic. A horsehide motorcycle jacket? A straight razor shave? Cream whipped up with a whisk? How can you not love a man who stands up straight and looks you right in the eye when he shakes your hand? A sincere "sorry". White gloves in church. Jacksonian principles. Hitchhiking. 

Send us a story. A picture. An anecdote. Money. Just kidding – answer we like the best wins an Old's Cool Tee in classic black.

Click here to enter: johnnymustard@oldscoolcompany.com


Looking forward to whuchew got to say, Traditionistas.

  

 

We jumped the shark.

Upped our shaving game, all the way back to 1966 - started using an old's cool Gillette Slim Adjustable K-2, and lathering up with a badger-hair brush and Dr. Bronner's shaving soap.
Reminds us of our old friend Tom Leishman, who taught us the stylish excellence and joys of safety razor shaving way back in Alexandria, Egypt. Because of his sensitive skin, he used one blade a day, showing us the right angles while we listened to Karen Carpenter coo about white lace and promises, and then give us a kiss for luck and we were on our way.

We feel handsomer already.

 

Quality is timeless. And beautiful.

The Berlin Wall had just come down and I was at a flea market in a drizzly gray park off the Ku’damm with my aforementioned Teutonic Tonto, Peter Trautmann, talking about American cars and cameras, Trabants, and Teufelsberg, a literal mountain of rubble made from the bombed-out ruins of WW II. It became the West’s ear to the ground, so-to-speak, during the long, Cold War. Look it up – a fascinating and eerily insane place. Anyway, we came across a table of old watches, harking back to when they were useful mechanical time tellers, and Peter, after much back and forth, bought an Omega Speedmaster, which looked like a cheap Rolex wannabe to me. If I was a watchman, and if I had any money, taste or knowledge, which I’m not and don’t, I’d buy a Submariner. “No, this is the best (long German word) – it’s been to the moon. Hammergeil classic.” He came to visit recently – same Herrlich watch, same precise, hilarious Peter. Time hasn’t changed either.

 



I’m a sole man.

While sailing on Long Island Sound, Connecticut native Paul Sperry slipped on the deck of his boat and fell overboard. (I’ve been there myself – see Call me Icarus, page 13 of The Official Old’s Cool Handbook). He was able to pull himself back on board, but the dunking motivated him to begin tinkering with the idea for non-slip shoes. One day he noticed his cocker spaniel could run up and down an icy hill without slipping.The grooves on Prince’s paws inspired him to slice zig-zags into a natural rubber sole, and he eventually perfected and patented his classic topsider in 1935. The canvas upper-shoe with a herringbone pattern of siping on the sole – a process that was itself patented in the 1920s by John Sipe – was an instant and enduring and stylish success. So, purchase a pair of Sperrys and the only slips you’ll have in your wife will be Freudian.