Today would have been the 120th birthday of René Lacoste, the French tennis champion and entrepreneur who pioneered the “Lacoste shirt” that remains synonymous with his dual legacy of innovation across both sports and style. To honor Lacoste’s dual legacy in sports and style, let’s walk through a brief (and surely incomplete) illustrated history of his iconic tennis shirt through its appearance on screen.
The Beginnings
Born July 2, 1904 in Paris, René Lacoste rose to tennis stardom through the 1920s, winning the singles title at the French Championships and at Wimbledon in 1925. Believing contemporary tennis gear to be too uncomfortable and restrictive, Lacoste designed a short-sleeved pullover shirt made of white, loosely knit “jersey petit piqué” cotton with a soft and flat collar, short button-up placket, and longer rear shirt-tail, which he debuted on the court during the 1926 U.S. Open championship, which he won.
Lacoste also embraced the American press dubbing him “the crocodile” to the degree that he asked his friend and stylist Robert George to embroider a crocodile over the left breast of his tennis clothing, including his shirts and jackets.
After winning seven Grand Slam singles titles at the French, American, and British championships, the 25-year-old Lacoste retired from tennis in 1929 and turned his attention to business. In 1933, Lacoste and André Gillier co-founded La Chemise Lacoste, a clothing label that specialized in retailing tennis shirts like those that Lacoste himself had made popular during his brief but brilliant career. Emblazoned with his signature crocodile over the left breast, Lacoste considers themselves “the first brand to feature a logo on its clothing.”
The 1950s: Global Expansion
After decades limited to selling white tennis shirts in France the Lacoste brand expanded its lineup and reach in the early 1950s. In 1951, Lacoste introduced an array of colors in addition to the original white. The following year, Lacoste gained greater international exposure when Izod and Haymaker owner David Crystal purchased 50% of the rights to market Lacoste in the United States, where Izod was already an established brand. Adding the Lacoste name enhanced the prestige of the newly formed Izod Lacoste brand, which was licensed from 1952 to 1993.
The increasing acceptance of casual sportswear among Americans was fortuitous timing for Izod Lacoste, as men appreciated the balance of Lacoste shirts’ presentability with being easy-to-wear. Even beyond tennis courts or golf courses where these shirts were popular, men were incorporating Lacoste shirts into their day-to-day style, often with the placket unbuttoned and collar rakishly popped, as modeled by the swarthy crook Val Cannon (Vince Edwards) in Stanley Kubrick’s 1956 noir The Killing and the rotation of blue Lacoste shirts that Richard Egan wears as the successful romantic lead in A Summer Place (1959).
The inherent informality of Lacoste shirts also made them popular in the jazz scene, whether by vocalists like Nat King Cole or fans in attendance at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival as glimpsed among the audience in Bert Stern and Aram Avakian’s breezy 1959 concert film Jazz on a Summer’s Day.
The 1970s: Evolution and Consistency
Obviously designed as tennis shirts, Lacoste shirts also became informally known as “golf shirts” as golfers appreciated the breathable piqué fabric as well as the collar that kept them within most clubs’ dress codes. Of course, it was still supremely practical for tennis, as featured among Patrick O’Neal’s tennis whites as the murderous architect Elliot Markham in the 1971 Columbo episode “Blueprint for Murder”.
Though the tennis shirt had been iconic for nearly a half-century, Lacoste understandably continued to expand its lineup with varied sportswear as modeled by the white knits that Ian McShane wears as the shifty Anthony Wood in the stylish 1973 mystery comedy The Last of Sheila, not just a tipped-collar tennis shirt but also a turtleneck and a ribbed cardigan sweater.
Lacoste shirts continued to offer a refreshingly timeless alternative to the fashions of the 1970s that exploded into excess with stanky polyester, tacky prints, and disco-length collars.
Costume designers of the era could use Lacoste shirts to signal when a character was still relatively youthful in terms of his fashion sense without totally yielding to the era’s trends, with examples below including reliable character actor Jack Kehoe as corrupt NYPD detective Tom Keough in Serpico (1973) and Gene Hackman as private detective Harry Moseby in Night Moves (1975).
The reliable consistency of Lacoste shirts also meant costume designers could easily pull a “new” one off the rack to dress characters for scenes set decades earlier, as modeled by Lee Strasberg as mobster emeritus Hyman Roth in The Godfather Part II (1974), dressed in a brown Lacoste shirt layered under an open cardigan during a quiet afternoon at home in the fall of 1958.
The 1980s: Prep Supremacy and Competition
Lacoste shirts maintained their staying power into the 1980s, where they ascended to a social status item in a culture more obsessed with materialism and conspicuous branding. Lacoste’s decades-old heritage and association with “country club” sports like tennis and golf established it as a yuppie staple, celebrated in the satirical 1980 volume The Official Preppy Handbook, which proclaimed that “the sport shirt of choice is Lacoste… only the all-cotton model will do, the one with the cap sleeves with the ribbed edging, narrow collar, and two-button placket (never buttoned).”
That same year, Tom Selleck introduced TV viewers to Hawaii-dwelling private investigator Thomas Magnum, who would become iconic for his red Ferrari and array of aloha shirts. However, it wasn’t a Hawaiian shirt that Selleck pulled on when emerging from the ocean during his first scene but rather a navy piqué Lacoste shirt.
As Lacoste shirts were now an aspirational emblem of success, they were quickly embraced as a shortcut to style. Just as junior high-schoolers today bought out stocks of Stanley water tumblers, ’80s dads flocked to fill their closet with Izod Lacoste shirts that would maintain a grip on their sense of fashionability in an era when it mattered more than ever. (In fact, it’s family lore that my father wore a yellow Izod Lacoste shirt during both my birth in 1989 and my sister’s birth four years earlier.)
Perhaps the quintessential ’80s dad, Clark Grisword (Chevy Chase) wore a parade of Lacoste when leading his family on a madcap cross-country road trip in National Lampoon’s Vacation (1983), sporting not just Lacoste shirts in shades of burgundy, pink, and lilac, but also khaki trousers and shorts emblazoned with that familiar crocodile logo.
Competition was nothing new for Lacoste, which had been fielding rivals since English tennis champion Fred Perry launched his own label of tennis shirts and sportswear in the early 1950s, characterized by an embroidered laurel wreath. However, the sustained fashionability of Lacoste shirts drew more specific competition into the fold through the 1970s and ’80s, including French label Le Tigre (which replaced the croc with a tiger) in 1977 and the anti-prep novelty brand Croc O’Shirt in 1980 (which “killed” the croc by dropping him on its back—enough to attract a mostly successful lawsuit from Lacoste.) Contemporary clothiers also expanded their existing lineups to include tennis shirts, as illustrated by the mint-green Yves Saint Laurent shirt that Chevy Chase wore with khaki Lacoste trousers in National Lampoon’s Vacation in the above screenshot.
Despite this wide field of competitors, it was arguably Ralph Lauren who had the most significant impact on Lacoste’s dominance of the market. In 1972, the Polo Ralph Lauren line was expanded to include a selection of tennis shirts nearly identical to the Lacoste shirt but with the crocodile replaced with a polo player atop a pony, consistent with the fledgling brand’s iconography. Always a master of marketing, Ralph Lauren was positioned at the right time and place to make an impact, in fact toppling two long-time sartorial shorthands as this overall style became known as “Polo shirts”, taking an existing term (“polo shirt” having previously referred to the Brooks Brothers button-down collar pioneered at the turn of the 20th century) and applying it to replace another existing one (the “tennis shirt” and even “golf shirt” shorthand long in place for Lacoste-style shirts).
The Polo effect was so significant that even Lacoste has surrendered to it; no doubt feeling the pressure from marketing shorthands and SEO value, Lacoste currently catalogs their own tennis shirts as “polo shirts”.
The 1990s and Beyond
Though Lacoste was hardly the only significant player in its market segment anymore, the iconography of the crocodile maintained its power well into the ’90s, though the cultural tide had shifted against its connotations of “country club” wealth.
Costume designer Richard Bruno exemplified this in Goodfellas (1990) by dressing Bruce (Mark Jacobs), a smug WASP living outside the silk-suited world of the Mafia, in exclusively Lacoste gear—first a classic white piqué tennis shirt when Karen (Lorraine Bracco) introduces him to Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) at her family’s country club (of course) and then again in a pale-yellow Lacoste windbreaker when Henry delivers his famous beatdown in Bruce’s own driveway. In both instances, his costume significantly contrasts from the mobbed-up Henry, who wears a guayabera to the country club and then a badass leather blazer over a black knit shirt when pistol-whipping Bruce.
Goodfellas may be trying to tell us that “tough guys don’t wear Lacoste,” but costume designer Betsy Heimann counters this point in Quentin Tarantino’s culture-shifting directorial debut.
Reservoir Dogs (1992) conjures the image of its sextet of colorfully nicknamed crooks strutting along in black suits, white shirts, and skinny black ties, but a flashback depicts the most professional of this gang—Larry Dimmick, aka “Mr. White” (Harvey Keitel)—sporting a classic burgundy Lacoste shirt for his initial meeting with crime boss Joe Cabot (Laurence Tierney). Seeing Mr. White’s off-duty look revises the earlier thesis statement to perhaps “performative tough guys don’t wear Lacoste” while smart tough guys opt for understated gear that looks anything but gangster to avoid detection in their day-to-day life.
Following Izod’s increasing financial difficulties, Lacoste regained the rights to its own distribution in the United States from 1993 onward. Though Izod may have been in trouble, Lacoste certainly was not as its visibility on screen only continued to increase, still a favorite of period-set productions as spied by astronaut Jim Lovell (Tom Hanks) in NASA’s offices during the lates ’60s in Apollo 13 (1995) or as a favorite brand of teenager Michael Kelso (Ashton Kutcher) on That ’70s Show.
In Happy Gilmore (1996), our eponymous golfer finds guidance from his mentor “Chubbs” (Carl Weathers), who typically dresses in layers of Lacoste knitwear over Lacoste shirts. In addition to the label’s longtime association with golf, Chubbs’ sartorial preference for the crocodile may be a reference to the alligator that bit off his hand, ending his pro golf career.
Though René Lacoste died in October 1996, his brand continued to endure more than 70 years after he first wore his influential shirt out onto the courts of the U.S. Open championship. Combined with its legacy, wearability, and aggressive marketing, Lacoste waded through the waters of intense competition from the likes of Polo Ralph Lauren to maintain its upscale casual reputation as well as a presence in popular movies like Wet Hot American Summer (2001) and Mean Girls (2004), featured in the latter as the clear brand of choice for high-schooler Damian Leigh (Daniel Franzese), though it’s our protagonist Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan) who famously pulls on a hot-pink Lacoste shirt to match the popular girls after they inform her that “on Wednesdays, we wear pink.”
As someone who was also in high school during the early 2000s, I recall the resurgence as Lacoste shirts as status symbols, recalling ’80s yuppie culture right down to the popped collars. After years of wearing imitators from Abercrombie and American Eagle, I finally purchased my first pair of Lacoste shirts (one in baby-blue, one in pale-pink) in the spring of 2005, when I was in 10th grade. Thanks to my penchant for slightly oversized shirts, I’m still able to wear them nearly 20 years later.
In fact, I even wore the pink Lacoste shirt for my sole major movie appearance to date, a fleeting shot from my day spent as an extra in the coming-of-age comedy Adventureland (2009). The casting notice said extras could bring their own clothing if it would suit the 1987 setting so I—already interested and semi-versed in the cultural history of clothing and its cinematic overlap—brought my own pink Lacoste polo, white jeans, Birkenstock sandals, and aviator sunglasses in the hopes that I would meet expectations. Evidently costume designer Melissa Toth’s team agreed that I did, and I strode through the scene in front of Jesse Eisenberg, Ryan Reynolds, and Bill Hader wearing my own clothing.
Lacoste remains a multi-generational favorite in the 21st century, maintaining its professional reputation through partnerships with tennis and golf champions as well as its cultural presence in movies and TV shows. One of the most prolific Lacoste wearers on current TV is Jeff Greene (Jeff Garlin), Larry’s manager on Curb Your Enthusiasm, who swapped his regular suits and ties for Lacoste shirts—both tennis shirts and button-downs—in nearly every color during the show’s more recent seasons.
The second season finale of Succession alone featured three different characters in Lacoste tennis shirts, including long-neglected “eldest son” Connor Roy (Alan Ruck) and the ambitious outsiders Tom Wambsgans (Matthew Macfadyen) and Greg Hirsch (Nicholas Braun), all signaling their willingness to fit in among the billionaire Roy family by sporting Lacoste aboard the family yacht. The familiar crocodile logos contrast with the less conspicuously branded but more expensive “stealth wealth” labels favored by the family themselves.
Footnotes
Read more about Lacoste shirts and brand history:
- Financial Times — “The polo shirt that took over the world” by Jessica Beresford
- Heddels — “The History of the Polo Shirt From Rene Lacoste Through Ralph Lauren” by James
- Ivy Style — “Le Crocodile: How Lacoste Became The Preppy Polo Of Choice” by Matthew Benz
- Lacoste — “Our History”
- Modern Gentleman — “Story of Jean Rene Lacoste & Fred Perry + Review of Polo Shirts” by Paul
Disclaimers:
- This is not an attempt to comprehensively list every Lacoste shirt in every movie and TV show, as that effort would be substantial enough for its own blog and then some. (For instance, the great work being done at Product Placement Blog)
- Instead, I’m merely endeavoring to outline the general history of this iconic shirt through its appearances on screen, particularly in productions that align with the content typically featured on BAMF Style.
- While I’d love to read comments about Lacoste shirt appearances you find noteworthy, please don’t say I “forgot” any… that’s just annoying.
- This is not at all a paid post or sponsored by Lacoste at all! True, as a Collective Voice affiliate, I may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made through links, but this is solely a labor of love written to coincide with René Lacoste’s 120th birthday. Given my personal connection to wearing Lacoste shirts on screen, I always had a soft spot for them.
The post A Brief Cinematic History of the Lacoste Shirt appeared first on BAMF Style.