At a moment when MR PORTER is offering free same-day delivery to the Hamptons, we draw inspiration from its most illustrious style stars.

Every summer, long-time residents of the Hamptons lament that their Long Island idyll has jumped the shark. A litany of reasons are cited: hedge-fund kingpins building overwrought mansions, movie stars (or worse, reality TV stars) taking up precious SoulCycle slots, the constant drone of helicopter arrivals. But rather than bemoan and bicker, let’s just agree that there was a golden age on the South Fork, and it was truly, truly great. An age, in fact, from which we can – and should – all steal a style tip or two.

The Hamptons first evolved from a series of fishing and farming villages into a summer community in the late 19th century, when the construction of the railroad from Manhattan made them more accessible for all the city slickers itching to throw their top hats in the air and jump into the big blue. But the seeds for the modern-day Hamptons were truly sewn in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. Back then, each of the villages had its own distinctive identity – Southampton and East Hampton were old-money enclaves where social life revolved around haunts such as The Meadow Club and The Maidstone. Artists and writers gravitated to Sagaponack, Springs and Sag Harbor. Montauk, now rapidly on its way to becoming New York State’s answer to Ibiza, was feral and relaxed. As a result, each of its tribes developed its own take on dressing, meaning that the Hamptons became something of a melting pot for summer style. So when you’re confronted with a party invitation where the dress code reads “outdoor festive” or  “BBQ chic”, might we suggest borrowing some of the timeless looks from the following icons? Who knows, if you do it well enough you may even manage to resurrect some of that “former glory” everyone’s always banging on about.

After WWII a section of East Hampton known as Springs became a cradle of the abstract expressionist movement. Mr Willem de Kooning had visited there in 1948 as the guest of Mr Jackson Pollock and his wife, Ms Lee Krasner. A few years later, Mr de Kooning and his wife Elaine bought their own place nearby – in a densely wooded area where the combination of sky, sea and forest reminded the painter of his native Holland. The house they built had a loft-like feel. The studio was the focus, the bed and living rooms an afterthought, materials were salvaged and Mr de Kooning exhibited a utilitarian leaning in his personal style, too. If his pal Mr Pollock was to become a posthumous selvedge icon, then Mr de Kooning represents the softer side of workwear – white painter’s overalls, chino shorts, T-shirts, sandals and moccasins.

Long before they were a global megabrand, the Laurens were a young family with a weekend house on Further Lane in East Hampton. Back in the 1970s, East Hampton was a more relaxed alternative to Southampton, yet was rapidly becoming the favourite summer locale for west coast movie people and Manhattan’s media elite. Today the Further Lane neighbourhood has become the stomping ground of hedge-fund titans, Mr Jerry Seinfeld and art dealer Mr Larry Gagosian.

In the 1970s Mr Ralph Lauren was on his way, too. He had opened a boutique in Beverly Hills, launched a womenswear line and the Polo pony logo was not much older than his son David, who would grow up to be the Ralph Lauren Corporation’s executive vice-president of advertising, global marketing and communications. Andrew, seen on the right, is now the face of Purple Label and a film producer.

Unlike the glossy advertising images of America’s first family of fashion, this casual, unguarded image taken on an autumn day feels fresh. The soft, plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans on Mr Lauren, as well as the adidas kicks on David, remain classic casual pieces that wouldn’t look out of place in East Hampton today – even though Mum and Dad would eventually move on to a more modern beach house in Montauk that once belonged to Ms Yoko Ono and Mr John Lennon.

Some time after Ms Audrey Hepburn graced the screen in the adaptation of his novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s but before the publication of In Cold Blood, Mr Truman Capote bought a house in Sagaponack. Well, not a house exactly but two small houses at the end of a tree-shrouded dirt road. One was Mr Capote’s, the other was for his partner Mr Jack Dunphy. Mr Capote’s country look was a synthesis of the locales he had lived in as a boy: the American South, Connecticut and Manhattan. Here his dress shirt, chinos and sandals are given a jaunty accent thanks to a straw boater that makes him look like he may have stepped out of Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party. Out east he was also fond of mixing in pieces normally associated with sports – most notably white tennis sweaters with a classic red-and-blue trim.

One can’t look at this image of the Rolling Stones, taken at Mr Andy Warhol’s estate, Eothen, without hearing Sir Mick Jagger and Mr Keith Richards trading verses on Memory Motel. Sir Mick had begun writing that ballad (about a one-night stand in a nearby Montauk motel) as the band prepped for their Tour of the Americas ’75. Speculation about the identity of the woman who inspired it (“Her eyes were hazel. And her nose was slightly curved”) has run to both Ms Carly Simon and Ms Annie Leibowitz.

So what do rock stars wear at band camp? Mr Charlie Watts, who would mature into a devotee of sharply tailored suits and Cleverley shoes, here dons a hoodie against the morning chill. Keyboardist Mr Billy Preston looks as if he’s stepped off the Saint Laurent catwalk in his distressed denim, rollneck and suede jacket. Sir Mick’s combo of safari jacket and trainers would kill at a BBQ today. And Mr Richards, seated in the deckchair, is quietly giving a masterclass in one of autumn’s big menswear trends – Bohemian. In an interesting bit of sartorial history, Mr Warhol’s compound, a series of fisherman’s cottages on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic, was purchased for about $30m in 2007 by Mr Mickey Drexler, chief executive of J.Crew.

Best known for his photographs of Africa’s vanishing wildlife, Mr Peter Beard is himself something of an endangered species on the East End of Long Island, namely old money. As the great-grandson of Mr James Jerome Hill, who founded the Great Northern Railway, Mr Beard would have been a likely candidate for Southampton with its privet hedges and grass tennis courts. Yet he bought the Montauk property next to Mr Warhol in 1972. Back then, this last residential lot before the tip of Long Island had an end-of-the-world feeling to it. In the image above, Mr Beard wears the perfect daytime uniform for a beachcomber – a beat-up old Oxford-cloth shirt and a pair of board shorts, which he perfectly accessorises with a lust for life.