THE JOURNAL
Mr Sid Vicious, with Mr Paul Cook and Mr Steve Jones in London, 1977. Photograph by Mr Richard Young
Some 40 years after his death, Mr Sid Vicious is perhaps as well known for his style as he is for his music. And the item most associated with the Sex Pistols’ bassist? His biker jacket. Wrinkled, ripped and covered in the studs, spikes and badges of punk, it was his trademark. So much so that he wanted to be buried in it, next to his long-term girlfriend Ms Nancy Spungen. A chilling note found in his pocket by his mother Ms Anne Beverly read: “We had a death pact. I have to keep my half of the bargain. Please bury me next to my baby. Bury me in my leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots. Goodbye.”
If the biker jacket is always associated with the punk era, it’s feeling relevant again in 2022. This is partly down to Pistol, a retelling of the Sex Pistols story directed by Mr Danny Boyle – on Disney+ from 31 May – and starring the relative newcomer Mr Louis Partridge as Vicious, complete with that leather jacket. This box-set moment is bolstered by brands anointing the outerwear perennial as a bona fide wardrobe essential. From Acne Studios to Rick Owens, Enfants Riches Déprimés, TOM FORD, SAINT LAURENT and AMIRI, the biker is now both a mark of cool, and an indisputable, classic investment piece.
As the song goes, Vicious did it his way. He apparently acquired his first one – a Dominator from cult London store Lewis Leathers – from Ms Viv Albertine of The Slits, and it would have been a status item. Biker jackets had been worn by the Ramones on the other side of the Atlantic, and fetishised as an item of the real American rocker by one-time Sex Pistols manager, Mr Malcolm McLaren (played in Pistol by The Queen’s Gambit star Mr Thomas Brodie-Sangster). Mr Paul Gorman, the author The Life & Times Of Malcolm McLaren, says this US glamour was essential to the item’s kudos in the punk era. “If you look at [the Ramones’] uniform, as depicted in Roberta Bayley’s [iconic] photo, it’s leather jacket, T-shirt, sneakers, ripped jeans. It harks back to the rockers that [McLaren] celebrated.”
“McLaren was a great student of the developments of street style. He immediately zoned in on the way in which the Beats took to the road after the war in America”
It’s widely agreed that the first biker was the Schott Perfecto, a design that dates back to 1928 and the proliferation of motorcyclist culture. Its design was practical – the belt at the waist kept the wind out when on the bike, while the side zip kept its wearer warm – but it also happened to look pretty cool. The double whammy of these two factors came together after WWII when a demographic of veterans came back to the US and, disillusioned with civilian life, took to a Beat-approved life on the road. The ultimate poster boy arrived in 1953, in the shape of Mr Marlon Brando – wearing a Perfecto, a snarl, and driving a Triumph Thunderbird 6T in The Wild One.
Two decades later, through wearers including Mr Andy Warhol, Mr Lou Reed and rockers fighting mods on the beaches of seaside towns in the UK, that spirit of rebellion and rock’n’roll was entrenched in the biker. Prior to its rebranding as Sex, McLaren and his partner Ms Vivienne Westwood called their King’s Road boutique Too Fast To Live, Too Young To Die after a slogan found on the back of a biker jacket (itself a tribute to biker-wearing Mr James Dean).
“McLaren was a great student of the developments of street style,” says Gorman. “He immediately zoned in on the way in which the Beats took to the road after the war in America.”
“If you’re going to paint band logos and use pins you have to be thoughtful about it. It needs to look f***ed up or it doesn’t read as true”
Of course, the romance and rebellion of the biker’s folklore remained – it was appreciated by everyone from Mr Jean-Michel Basquiat to Mr George Michael in the 1980s. And that entrenched diversity is part of its appeal today. The biker, and its close cousin the moto, looks best when worn by the rebels in our public eye – people like Mr Kanye West and Mr Travis Barker today – and made by brands that excel at OG cool.
Enfants Riches Déprimés, which translates as “depressed rich kids”, has been described by its founder Mr Henri Levy as “a nihilistic luxury brand”, and the biker is crucial to this look. Levy describes it as “a garment with history and simplicity. A black shell for life.” The heritage is essential. “I like all these Swiss biker gang kids that Karlheinz Weinberger photographed in the 1960s,” he says, of his references. “I am also into Elvis, [The Germs’] Darby Crash and [singer] Jeffrey Lee Pierce.”
For Levy, an authenticity is key to retaining the rebel yell of a biker jacket in the modern era. What makes a good biker? “Good worn leather, good shape,” he says. “Also, if you’re going to paint band logos and use pins you have to be thoughtful about it. It needs to look fucked up or it doesn’t read as true.”
Perhaps the last words should go to Mr Rick Owens – in his characteristic all caps, no less – a designer for whom the biker jacket is non-negotiable: “FROM BRANDO TO MAPPLETHORPE A LITTLE HINT OF SURLY SLIPPERY BOUNDARIES IS SEXY,” he says, “AND [IT] NEVER GETS OLD.”