Rockin' Steady: Then And Now

Jason Johnson is, by his own admission, not particularly stylish or athletic. He does however hold the distinction of being the world's tallest sports/style blogger. He can most often be found at Style Points, or on Twitter @frazierapproves.

When Shoals asked me to write a style piece related to the re-release of Walt Frazier’s seminal Rockin' Steady: A Guide to Basketball and Cool, I jumped at the opportunity. Rockin’ Steady is, simply put, one of the oddest books I’ve ever read. Equal parts memoir, style guide, hoops tutorial and 70s PG scouting report, it is profoundly weird. Like "Keep Portland Weird", or that cow-camouflage-blazer-he-wore-a-few-weeks-ago weird.



Clyde’s basketball tips still ring true, because fundamentally, the game hasn’t changed that much since his day. Instead of focusing on the basketball portion of the book, I thought I’d see how much of Clyde’s 1974 closet would stand up in today’s league.

SUITS:

Clyde’s closet boasted 49. With the not-so-new dress code in effect, it would be surprising if most ballers didn’t have a similar number. While Rockin Steady doesn’t detail each and every suit (I’m sure most were conservative charcoal or navy worsteds), it does highlight some of the more, ahem Clyde-ish items. I was unable to locate any modern lamb or cowskin suits, but Andrew Bogut seems to be keeping Clyde’s white twill suit alive.



PANTS:

Clyde saw no problem with wearing his suits as separates. Wearing suit pants without the cost is a bad move because, ideally you’d like them to wear and age equally. It’s an especially bad move if, like Clyde, your pants have no pockets. After scouring the web for days, I came up short in my search for NBA players in verifiably pocketless trousers. Were I a betting man, I’d venture that one or more of the fits from Kobe’s infamous “white hot” spread would fit the bill.

KNOTS:

Circa 74, it seems that ties had fallen out of fashion. Ever a man of the times, Frazier purported to own no ties. This is incongruous with the photographic evidence presented in the book. From what I’ve seen, Frazier favored white silk ties with black suit/shirt combos. Gangster. Paul Pierce can be seen employing this particular look to questionable effect.



KICKS:

Shoes are dangerous. They’re a sartorial gateway drug. Every true clothes-horse has an even bigger shoe habit. Clyde was no exception. At the time of publication, he estimated that he had fifty pairs of shoes; 20 lace up and 30 loafers, mostly suede and leather, nach. One would expect that his shoe game would be relatively easy to export to into the new millennium; unfortunately, I was unable to find any pics of current players in 2.5 inch Cuban heels. I do, however, believe some college players wear them for on-campus pre-draft measurement.

COATS:

Endangered species laws and changing attitudes make it virtually impossible for a modern player to walk around in an elephant or seal skin coat like Clyde, but that didn’t stop Nate Robinson from stepping out in this full size Yeti-fur coat.



LIDS:

Walt wouldn’t have become Clyde without the hats. Frazier had a penchant for wearing wide brimmed hats before they became popular. After being ridiculed by veteran teammates, Frazier nearly abandoned the hats that gave him his now-iconic nickname. They called him Clyde because his hats were similar to those worn by Warren Beatty in Bonnie and Clyde.

Today, hats remain a sartorial power-move. They’re high degree of difficulty items that should only be attempted by the most accomplished Clydes of our day.



There will never be another Walt “Clyde” Frazier. So much of what made him has been lost. That time, that New York is long gone. The city isn’t edgy anymore. MSG doesn’t mean as much as it used to, and the days of weirdo fashion plates leading entertaining Knicks teams are long past.

FreeDrafto #87232C: Feel the Beauty Hawk

Perspire all over the FreeDrafto mock. Go behind the scenes of DeMarcus Cousins getting clothes, and feel his fun. Know that I suffer. Just finished a column that didn't turn out like I wanted it to, and a movie (Fallen Angel) that left me with nothing but a crush on a flimsy character.

But fashion beckons, fashion waits for no man, and it's my favorite time of year: time to critique these draft portraits, sun.



There are actually a lot of white people in this draft, but Aldrich is the one who is so white no one wants to talk about him. Good thing he's embraced that, wearing a vest made from an heirloom kilt. That it's a fitted vest really takes this look into OWN IT territory. Who wore fitted vests, ever, except for, like, the Crusaders? Love the use of ears as an accessory.



Seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to say about this? He looks like Venom ate Urkel and decided to invite you to his house, which is either inside a pumpkin or on Mars. Actually, when I see it spelled out like that, I think they really nailed Aminu. Mostly the clothes are a prop—"look how fucking strange I can act while dressed by a stylist." Except one thing stands out: why would they put him in what looks like Keens? So he wouldn't slip in his pumpkin? I should end this on a positive note: I always say, if you only get your pants tailored in one place, make it the kneecaps.



If the goal of this outfit was to make DeMarcus Cousins look like my father, a sixty-two year-old academic, it succeeds. The equation of dribbling with sensitive and intelligent is pretty clever, too. There's definitely a gay Mr. Potato head quality to this photo, but at the same time, you can tell that Cousins is enjoying himself. And yeah, there's some shock value there. That alone makes this a winning photo.



Luke Babbitt sort of seems like he got the same direction Aminu did, maybe, "pretend you just opened the door for some kids trick-or-treating." Except in Luke's case, I just think he's telling me the cautionary tale of Frankenstein. Cautionary because you should hope you never get dug up and stuck on a reanimated monster because you might somehow be award of what's going on. Clothes would like great on Frankenstein, but basically just say "I can't do any more coke tonight, I'm applying to law school next spring."

And yes, shit for face, I know Frankenstein is actually the scientist. Who would you rather have a funny-sounding name go with, a mad scientist or a monster?



No, Ed Davis. You're not trick or treating, you're the adult on the other side of the door. See, this is why he's a shitty pick. Oh, and this is the kind of sweater I see in pictures of me when I was six, and have to stop myself from asking my mother if it's in the attic somewhere because I'd like to have it now. I detect a slight hint of a gigantic sheriff's star belt. I don't think it's there, but that would be the weirdest thing in the world. Maybe they had to bribe him into posing.



Someone should get fired for this one. That's like the worst cut of dress shirt to not tuck in. Way to show your maturity, Favors. At least you kind of look like Jay Williams, which means we have to find this shot endearing. Oh, and I'd advise leaving Aminu's pumpkin before he gets back and finds you. I hear he's saving up dead birds to play with.



Those pants are way too shiny. It kind of looks like he really wishes he were a judge, but instead got stuck on Broadway.

Did you know that was Paul George? I still don't.



This Gordon Hayward outfit was brought to you by Buffalo Exchange. And not a good one.



No one is even fucking with Wes Johnson, and not for best dressed, either. Pee Wee Herman + Dick Tracy + Willy Loman. And those shoes are slick enough to show he's in on the joke. I have major reservations about him greeting kids on Halloween like this because 1) he looks kind of scary 2) his penis is plainly outlined. But whatever. Somehow, Johnson looks really young in that weird Pee Wee way, which isn't good for the sake of greeting children, but reminds you that twenty-two is not old AT ALL. That said, you don't get that sense of humor from playing one year of college ball. You need to see at least one improv group performance.

I would like to know if the ball is coming or going, and what that represents. Or if it's a demonstration from a show about time travel.



Greg Monroe wants you to know that he is all grown up. And that if this basketball thing doesn't work out, he'll walk across the street and get a job training motivational speakers. Sometimes, looking normal is the best way for a pro athlete to make you realize how much more important he is than you.



First of all, Patrick Patterson, look in the mirror after you piss and pull your pants up. Secondly, you look like you're trying on clothes from two years ago you might get rid of. That or it's some recent immigrant group I can't quote put my finger on. Strangely, a reasonable chain would've made a lot of sense here.



Blah blah blah, I'm Evan Turner, I'm the second pick in the draft, I'm in Aminu's pumpkin but it's really just an orange background to represent basketball. They showed me Adam Morrison's outfit from 2006 to try and loosen me up, but i thought they were telling me to change. So I did. It was okay. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to punch myself in the nuts, or maybe the gut, and miss.



This is a really scary photo.



I doubt he picked the J. It's a little busy; I know he couldn't have gone full white on white, or else people might have thought it was a reference to that Nike ad where Chris Paul and everyone else plays in a hangar with those astronaut warm-ups. I really like the pants, the tie and shirt are okay, they just should have gone with a simpler cardigan. The more I like at the tie/shirt, the more new wave they're starting to look. Or cruise ship waiter. Whatever. We all know Wall can rock a tux with authority from those Derby pictures. Would like to know what shoes he's wearing.

This outfit actually looks better in some other shots where he's got his somber face. But I like that this is an action-formal pose (who the fuck thought of that) where Wall looks like he might actually drive to the basket at any moment, while at the same time kind of having fun with the absurdity of the pose. It's like he can't help himself on either count. Good signs, no?

Who is the best-dressed? What do you think?

You've Got The Look!

I always thought these things came out after the draft, but here these are. Okay, so maybe they always come out beforehand; perhaps I didn't notice until this year because so much is unsettled, so many players looking to define themselves amidst the din, that such images matter more than usual. Anyway, here's my cursory do/don't take on these, with apologies to Billups:



For someone so gangly on the court, Thabeet, unlike most seven-footers, sure knows how to look natural in the suit. He also has a face that looks like it could be put on a normal-sized person, a big plus when it comes to centers seeming human. The guy even shrugs and grins naturally, effortlessly, in a way that puts you at ease. This is wholesome point guard territory, not the usual awkward weirdo introvert.Counterbalance all that on-court scouting, now no one will whisper when he goes top three. For hell's sake, what other big man can drape a sweater over his shoulders without looking like a demonic scarecrow?



Everyone else is trying to tell us who they are, or really are, or want us to think they really are, with these shots. Ricky Ricky could give a fuck less about that. This is all about "how will I like in a fashion shoot" or "am I paparazzi worthy," maybe even "imagine this billboard over Times Square." Because see, Rubio isn't a person, he's an icon, a cute little sensation waiting to, however briefly, make an NBA city feel like it's the center of the basketball world. If that ugly-ass dude who is always on the Clippers could bag a model, imagine what kind of arm-candy this guy will come up with? You other kids get sneaker contracts; he's busy moving Armani.



Life is all about stark contrasts. Here's Rubio's arch-rival, humorless, smile-less, and without frivolity, dressed up just enough to show you he knows he, dressed down to show you he will roll up those sleeves and get to work. That expression says STRICTLY BUSINESS, and he's even hiding the ball in a non-flamboyant way. "My name is Brandon, and I control the rock." This shot also makes you believe he's just a weird-looking dude, not a teen still growing into his face. It's all gaze, no market, just the portrait of a player who wants respect. Which is overdoing it, of course, since this shit about him falling to #20 is just a Masonic conspiracy.



They say Jrue Holiday isn't ready. They say he only looks good on paper. The answer? Make him look a very sensitive golem emerging from a long lunch break in the void of un-being. I hope that's a satisfactory explanation.



Jordan Hill is just trying to figure it all out.



You know the ultimate mark of either a very young athlete or a total mama's boy? When they can't rock an outfit without looking like someone else picked it out for them. It also doesn't help that DeRozan, who is going to get drafted based on athleticism, looks like he's running for student body president of Dead Person University. No color? No expression but that wan grin? I don't even believe this guy can move. Or maybe I'm reading it all wrong, and that's the point: Seriousness and composure, to preempt all the "jump out the gym" talk. Even something resembling a wrap-around pass. Hidden secrets. Unknown pleasures. Whatever the last Joy Division album is called.



First of all, I own that same outfit. But not the socks. I like the socks, and think that's the next frontier of NBA fashion. That said, Curry looks perfectly comfortable and convincing until you get to the point of contact between his hand and the ball. NOT A GOOD SIGN. If he's going to be anything more than a friendly catch-and-shoot fella, he could at least look like he sometimes takes the ball out at night and does tricks in front of the mirror. . . in that outfit. That's what the people want.



Does Hansbrough mean to be wearing exactly what Adam Morrison rocked in 2006?