THE JOURNAL
Mr Eduardo Franco in “Stranger Things”, Series 4, 2022. Photograph courtesy of Netflix
The first drop of the fourth season of Netflix’s Stranger Things arrived on our screens in June, bringing with it action, gore, a bit of comedy and the record-breaking resurgence of Ms Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill”. With two new episodes – which clock in around two hours each – arriving today, it would be remiss if we let the opportunity to talk about the raddest-dressed man of the show, Argyle (played by Mr Eduardo Franco), pass us by. The wholesome stoner with the chillest 1980s surfer-vibe fits exudes summer optimism – and it’s exactly what we needed.
It’s 1986, President Ronald Reagan has launched his “war on drugs”, Ukraine is suffering from a nuclear disaster, “Papa Don’t Preach” by Madonna is on the radio and the Byers family have moved to California from Hawkins, Indiana.
Jonathan Byers has made a new “funny friend” and they “like to smoke smelly plants together”, as Eleven says in her opening narration. As the show delves further into the horror genre, newcomer Argyle offers comic relief. He’s a laid-back stoner, who works at Surfer Boy Pizza. “I still highly recommend slapping some juicy pineapple on your pie,” he says on the phone while wearing a yellow Surfer Boy Pizza visor that, low-key, we’d love to cop. “Oh, fruit on your pizza is gnarly, you say? Well, I say try before you deny.”
“His style gives off a laid-back nonchalance that’s totally tubular, but also thought-out”
A teddy-bear personification of stoner culture, Argyle is the delivery van-driving, philosophy-speaking, Purple Palm Tree Delight-smoking dude and Jonathan’s “personal, unofficial, non-certified therapist” according to Franco. Accompanied by the song “Pass The Dutchie” by Musical Youth in his van, he never fails to exude effortless vibes.
His style gives off a laid-back nonchalance that’s totally tubular, but also thought-out. In the scene where he meets Mikey (who flies to California in a colourful camp-collar shirt to visit Eleven), a hyped Argyle asks if Mikey’s shirt is Ocean Pacific – the Californian brand that captured the 1980s surf zeitgeist. Argyle gives him a hug, if only to inspect the tag, saying: “Oh no, no, no. It’s a shitty knock-off. Don’t sweat it, man, I’ll get you the good threads out here.” It’s giving the street style-obsessed, Throwing Fits attitude of a true fashion boy.
Argyle’s neon and bold 1980s colourways, graphic prints and geometric patterns represent sunny California and surf culture. By contrast, the new-to-town Byers dress in more muted colours and plaid shirts that echo their rural Indiana background.
“Argyle’s neon and bold 1980s colourways, graphic prints and geometric patterns represent sunny California and surf culture”
And in the prime time of perms, with the Mr Jon Bon Jovis and Ms Cyndi Laupers of the world popularising the style, Argyle is on another wave with his hair. His straight waist-length mane – which is real by the way – and his chill attitude reminds us of Slater in Dazed And Confused, while his fashion leans more towards the slacker surf style of Fast Times At Ridgemont High’s Jeff Spicoli. He opts for colourful layering, aloha shirts, Ray-Ban Wayfarers, Converse and checkerboard Vans, and if you look closely, you can also spot a Swatch on his wrist. “Shmackin’, dude.”
Unlike the 1960s and 1970s where pot culture prevailed, the 1980s was a decade defined by cocaine, when the “Just Say No” campaign led to the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986, and the normalisation of weed was cut short by special anti-drug episodes on sitcoms. But the stoner characters powered through pop culture – see Cheech & Chong, Jeff Spicoli and John Bender in The Breakfast Club, who led the way for Bill & Ted, Dazed And Confused and the weed resurgence of the 1990s.
It’s nice to see Argyle here, a nod to that stereotypical chilled-back character of the 1980s, with a less slovenly approach and a more wholesome, pensive attitude – and better clothes.