Patterned Trousers -- Are You Man Enough?

From flamboyant palm fronds to eye-popping polka dots, patterned trousers in a kaleidoscope of colors are all the rage. Are you man enough to wear them?

Wall Street Journal
By Steve Garbarino

Last month, something crazy happened during the men's spring 2012 collections, first in Milan, then in Paris. On the runway, menswear designers went all-out bonkers over one bright idea: wildly patterned pants.

Even from the cheap seats, you couldn't miss the visual slacks attack. Like Glenn Close, they would not be ignored. Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Versace and Alexander McQueen, to name a few, all had over-the-top pattern parties on their pants—a psychedelic safari of flora, stripes and dots.



There was tie-dye at Bottega Veneta, vibrant birds-of-paradise prints at Givenchy, Big-Top stripes at Dries Van Noten and polkas, plaids and paisleys at Etro. Moschino was wild for palm fronds and hibiscus prints. Gaultier's moody-luau prints also packed Hawaiian punch. Agnès B. had full suits covered in zigzags and wave-like swirls of turquoise and brown. And then there were Miuccia Prada's Lilly Pulitzer-on-crack slacks, which models wore while wheeling golf bags down the runway.

These retro-leaning pants have many names—some unprintable, all as colorful as the designs themselves. "Go-to-Hell Pants," "Don't-Give-a-Damn Pants" and "Party-Crashing Pants" are just a few.

Inspired by a sense of confidence, caprice, escapism and even entitlement—born from both country club and rock 'n' roll traditions—crazy pants say: Go ahead, make a spectacle of yourself.

"I think it was just very chic, happy!" said Agnès B. designer Agnes Troublé of her Paris-by-way-of-Africa prints. "I think of my friend Johnny Pigozzi," a colorful art collector and owner of the menswear line LimoLand. "He is always daring to wear the craziest pants he can find!"

But not all are amused by the cocksure look. Following his own spring collection of muted summer suits, Giorgio Armani, now 77, criticized both Dolce & Gabbana and Prada's collections, saying they made men look ridiculous and were unwearable, according to the fashion trade rag Women's Wear Daily.

Prada's show notes defined the scrutinized look as being "relaxed, fun and young," with "the world of golf" serving as "the thread of inspiration that unites classical English elements and exaggerated over-the-top details typical of the American imagination." Other inspirations came from '60s Palm Beach flower prints and English necktie motifs from the '70s.

After Mr. Armani's comments, the gossip mill went into overdrive, with industry insiders calling him a party pooper. Style blogs and the fashion trades chronicled the resulting snipe-fest for weeks.

Truth is, Mr. Armani has a point. Party pants aren't for everyone. And not everyone can pull them off. But that's the idea. They are designed to make their fearless arbiters stand out in any crowd, and if you can't take that kind of heat, perhaps the look is not for you.

While the peacock-y style was adopted by jet-setting British rock stars of the louche '60s and '70s, the origins of crazy pants are conservative and upper class by nature.

Born out of the cultivated-depraved cocktail culture of East Coast summer communities like Newport, R.I., and Locust Valley, N.Y., along with resort spots like Palm Springs and Palm Beach in the '50s, proudly-loud pants became a part of the well-to-do's (and not-much-to-do's) social fabric. The originators were mostly unknowns, big fish in small ponds, "pieces of work," kings of their lawn parties, golf courses and country-club socials. And although there were also notable advocates—Peter Lawford, George Hamilton, Keith Richards, Ken Kesey—party-pant wearers shared one thing in common: They owned any room they entered. (A fact that had almost nothing to do with what they were wearing.)

Today, the personality profile of crazy-trouser advocates is just the same. "Girls love crazy pants, but they really piss off guys…which is why I love them so much," said Paul Sevigny, a celebrity deejay and Manhattan bistro owner who grew up in preppy Darien, Conn. "I call them 'f—-you pants,' " he said. "But in Dallas, a pair got this group of middle-age men all riled up," he said. "You don't expect a 55-year-old man to be angry about some other dude's trousers." And, he added, "Jersey Shore guys really get worked up" when he wears, say, his Paul Stuart Italian-madras slacks. "In these situations, a full-frontal confrontation works best," said Mr. Sevigny. "Why are you looking at my crotch, anyway?"

Mr. Sevigny, who is 40, said there are distinctions as to what defines truly crazy pants. "I want to make it clear that Nantucket Reds are not f—-you pants. Nor are corduroys with whales on them." True crazy pants come in "colors that can't be ignored from across a room. They're not for the meek. You have to wear them with confidence. And you have to take them off the golf course and onto the street."

Patterned-pant enthusiasts advise that when sporting them, all other accessories must be understated. Will Cotton, a 46-year-old New York artist—whose favorite crazy pants are horizontally striped red, blue, yellow and white ones by Patrik Ervell—said he typically pairs his loud trousers with a simple white shirt and woven-straw sandals. "I've had limited success with patterns on patterns," he said. It's also wise to not be too precious or over-groomed. Skip a day's shave, and accessorize them with summer soles like loafers, boat shoes, white sneaks or flip-flops. Or rock them with a vintage concert T-shirt (a faded black Rolling Stones lips logo will do).

Alan Flusser, author of "Style and the Man," chronicled the advent of the crazy pant long before it hit the runways, asserting that the look developed out of idle-rich "boredom." "If 'Bill' wore a crazy jacket to the club the week before, his friends would try to find something equally irritating to wear the next go-round. It was a blue-blooded, mano-a-mano parlor game, a sartorial one-upmanship that the stylish button-downers would engage in," Mr. Flusser said. "Outsiders might wince, while insiders smiled."