Definitely AFS. Anything that looks like it even may have been conceived by Fellini is just about perfect in my eyes.
Whatever anybody's thoughts about spezzatura, you can't argue against the vibe the Italian's can create with their clothing and manner. It doesn't appear studied. If it is, it's time well spent, and they've perfected it. It's just in their DNA.
Marcello Mastroianni with his feet on the table - BANG!
Jdemy, the other side of the coin, the so-called 'Rocker', was a 'ton-up boy', a kind of, I suppose, semi-Hells Angels-type biker. They evolved into 'greasers' and had fairly close connections with our 'teddy boys'/'Edwardians' - so-called because they were said to model themselves on Edward V11. You can find black and white photographs of them (pre-rock and roll) in books of Roger Mayne's photography. They eventually caused a good deal of mayhem in England and I can think of at least a couple who were hanged for murder circa 1958.
'Rockers' wore leather, boots and often white scarves. They listened to American rock and roll - people like Gene Vincent. Their successors were much in evidence during my teenage years and their presence anywhere almost always spelled trouble.
The older teds, on the other hand, if you had any interest in American cars and jukeboxes, were often fine. You could find a little common ground.
But the English experience - for me at least - between 1969 and 1979 was of almost ceaseless aggravation.
Not a good time to be black or Asian, either.
I don't really recall the last time I saw any kind of 'ted'. It must be years ago. Bikers have often mellowed and will talk to anyone about their machines. Some are, in fact, quite gentle people. But it probably helps that most of us are at least sixty and will now shake our collective heads over how stupid and pointless it all was. Same with some football fans.
Spendthrift, my affinities with Italy are very strong indeed - although not as strong as for our Gibson, who speaks the language and is highly knowledgeable about virtually every aspect of their culture.
I have a certain amount of admiration for their cinema but that tends to be for the films they made immediately after the collapse of fascism rather than Fellini or Antonioni (for example). I'm afraid - cover your eyes - Leone is my man: that crazy music and graphics at the beginning of 'A Fistful Of Dollars'! They also made some excellent horror movies: Bava, Argento.
And I've eaten far too much of their food for my own good!
The original Quadrophenia album imagery that featured that amazing rear view shot of Mod on a scooter was an iconic.
As a twelve year old in '79 I flirted with Mod as it was popular at my new secondary school.I soon got bored with it as it attracted a lot of hassle from skinheads.
In the Birmingham area - the home of heavy metal –the older lads were throwbacks to the early Seventies. Long hair, flared denim, biker jackets, denim waistcoats festooned with patches. They were direct descendants of the local boys who went on to form Led Zep and Black Sabbath.
The rear view, yes, of - Chad, was he called?
The skinhead revival was the worst of all. I'm old enough to remember '69. Horrible. Big boots, braces and sheepskin coats. Always spoiling for a fight. Their girls, too. Then came the 'Crombie Boys'. Richard Hawkins had a good deal to answer for.
This is the one
https://www.amazon.com/Quadrophenia-Who/dp/B000002P1P
But there was also this version
https://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=402405
Where was I in 1989? Well, to answer Frosty's first query on this topic - I was wearing a pink Brooks Brothers Makers OCBD in that FHM pic but JS told me to say it was one of the shop's own label - a Geoffrey Scott perhaps? Paul Weller came in the shop once while I was wearing the very same shirt, praised its significant collar roll and said I "looked the business". JS went mad afterwards - "you should have told him it was one of ours, not a bloody Brooks Brothers!". I was 24, living in a bedsit in Richmond Hill, a bit lost really and totally madly in love with a girl I used to see at northern soul all-nighters. It didn't last long and she truly broke my heart - proof, if you needed it, that pink button-downs don't always get you the girl... We would leave the 100 Club at 8am and get to Bar Italia just as it was opening (this was before it went 24 hour). Then back on to the District Line to snooze all the way back to Richmond. Heady memories.
I love all this. I think this must have preceded the occasion upon which Mr. Strachan failed to succeed as a giver of sound advice to the lovelorn.