A fashion icon from thrilling to bad
During the summer of 1984, I wanted nothing more than a red quilted pleather jacket. It mattered little that I had absolutely no use for a jacket during the summer, or that pleather can be stickier than maple syrup on a humid July day. The fact is that every junior high-age boy lusted after the jacket that Michael Jackson wore in his “Thriller’’ video.
Twenty five years later, I can still see that jacket hanging in a Florida store during a family vacation, and I can still hear myself unsuccessfully begging my mom to buy it for me.
At the time of his death last week, Jackson was not regarded as a perfect fusion of pop and fashion. But for a brief and shimmering span in the mid-1980s, Jackson’s wardrobe was the epitome of MTV cool. The high-water trousers, the white socks with black loafers, the fedora perched suggestively over one eye, and, of course, a single glove were his calling cards. His image was so closely tied to his wardrobe that it’s impossible to listen to “Beat It’’ and not picture the willowy and Jheri-curled Jackson cocking his hips and breaking up a choreographed scuffle in his excessively zippered leather jacket. In his heyday, he was a master of blending music and fashion into a tidy package.
It wasn’t always that way. As a boy, Jackson not only took his musical cues from other artists, but he copied the way they dressed. At the time of the Jackson 5’s 1970 debut, the urchin with the James Brown moves sported a de rigueur black power afro, along with polyester bell-bottoms, butterfly collar shirts, and fringy vests. He resembled a tamed and miniaturized Sly Stone.
As he matured into a teenager through the 1970s, he and his brothers opted for multi-hued polyester ensembles. On a particularly disastrous appearance on “The Carol Burnett Show,’’ the brothers wore powder blue sequined tuxedos. It’s no wonder he waited out his awkward stage hiding in Scarecrow drag before re-emerging nipped-and-tucked for the “Off the Wall’’ album.
Before his plastic surgery became excessive to the point of self-destruction, Jackson’s face, like his wardrobe, was classically handsome. He opted for bow ties, fitted trousers, and tuxedos. But by the time Jackson surfaced for the post-“Thriller’’ album “Bad,’’ he was wrapped in studded belts and superfluous buckles, looking for all the world like he was taking fashion advice from Bubbles the chimp or Emmanuel Lewis. Jackson increasingly adopted military symbolism and Sgt. Pepper-style jackets into his wardrobe. If he was the self-proclaimed King of Pop, his clothes made it clear that his kingdom was a military dictatorship. His style became less trend-setting. Arriving at the 1991 Academy Awards as Madonna’s date, Jackson looked less-than-dapper in a beaded white tuxedo jacket. As popular tastes became less glamorous and more grungy in the early 1990s, Jackson’s get-ups looked more over the top by comparison.
The knee pads, zippers, and leg straps eventually eased into a series of silk blouses and granny pajamas through Jackson’s 40s. During his 2005 child molestation trial, he arrived for court one day wearing pajamas. But it won’t be Jackson’s affinity for silk lounge wear that’ll be remembered as his signature style. For a time, we all wanted to dance like Michael, and we all wanted to wear that jacket from the “Thriller’’ video as we danced.
CHRISTOPHER MUTHER
