of being an arbiter of fashion,” said the late, great Terry Wogan, writing in these venerable pages about the rocker in relation to men’s style. While I’m loath to contradict that lilting, noble patriarch of British broadcasting (and fellow Celt), Rod Stewart has certainly earned himself a place in the pantheon of men’s style icons – leopard-print trousers, glittering metallics, riotous hair-do and all. The rocker, who turns 80 today, has this week, in pleasingly Stewart-esque style, invited his expansive family on a $150m super yacht in Barbados, geein’ it laldy as he reaches his ninth decade (that roughly translates as “making a lot of noise” for those unacquainted with Scottishisms). Instagram snaps posted by the brood show Stewart in his beloved Celtic kit, and a relatively low-key (for him) outfit of pinstripes and sparkly silver trainers. Perhaps the leopard print was in the dry cleaners.
, hopefully bringing the same verve and energy to his performance as he does to his sense of glorious, maximalist dress-up.
upping the ante in their electric stage presences, and shifting the needle of men’s style into more outre, experimental and rather joyous territory.
into suits with exaggerated shoulders, razor-sharp waists and blousy trousers, alongside the more ritzy, lavishly patterned fashions of Mr Fish, a stone’s throw away on Carnaby Street. Stewart became known for his high-voltage looks and his unashamedly sexual posturing; the tight leather trousers, the flyaway silks. In a sense it was almost primal in its showboating masculinity; the dance of the alpha male showing off his prowess in electric hues (and entrancing various mates along the way)
The late Sexton, who went on to set up his own eponymous label, once told me about dressing that era’s stars: “Those guys worked at it. They were happy to sacrifice certain things to look great in tailoring because they really appreciated it.” Archival imagery of Stewart in louche silk blouses and trailing scarves from the 1970s shows him exuding the kind of sensual, seductive allure that today’s men’s catwalks could only dream of. There was an alchemy to his look that was entirely his own.
, at a time when other men are happy to fade into the background and tow a nondescript path familiar. This isn’t just stage costumery for being in front of an audience; I’m reminded of shots of Stewart holidaying in Rome in 2018 in a fabulously flamboyant velvet Etro suit riddled in paisley patterns, with (naturally) a floral shirt and (of course) chinoiserie Gucci loafers. Well, the Vatican does love a bit of flouncy high camp and a jazzy slipper after all.
Here’s hoping it’s in a wardrobe that’s as vibrantly, exuberantly “him” as it ever was. Our bet is some sequinned Celine, perhaps with a silken blouse underneath, or the glittering metallic suits from Dries Van Noten’s final collection that could have stepped straight off the stage at the Marquee Club in 1971. Whatever it is, you can be sure that it won’t be a cosy knit or polite navy suit. Here’s to owning your excess-all-areas style as an octogenarian. To coin a phrase from one of his most famous songs, you wear it well.
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