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printer's devil

(/ˈprɪn.tərz ˈdɛv.əl/)

noun

  1. (historical) a person, typically a young boy serving as an apprentice, who ran errands in a printing office

The Beatles Effect

 

In its eternal cycle of self-reference, fashion has once again turned its gaze to military. What this current revival depicts is not just the heavily decorated dress of Napoleonic dandy, but the functional utility of mid-century service dress and field jackets. Hardy Amies, who spent a considerable portion of the Second World War in military intelligence before dressing some of the most distinguished figures of the twentieth century, understood better than most the relationship between service dress and civilian elegance. It is fitting that the aesthetic he navigated so deftly should find renewed relevance now.

Military surplus entered mainstream civilian fashion during the post-war period when the sheer volume of demobilised stock made it accessible and affordable. The MA-1 bomber jacket, the various iterations of the pea coat and the M-65 field jacket migrated from service to mainstream America through counterculture. Vietnam-era surplus became a symbol of protest – one of the great sartorial ironies of the twentieth century. Yet, it is not this spirit of anti-war culture that the current revival focuses on, more the appreciation of cut, proportions and functionality.

The most visible manifestation of this can be referred to as the ‘Beatles effect’, and it operates on two distinct registers. The first is historical: the band’s sartorial evolution across the 1960s established a template for masculine elegance that fashion never fully sets aside. In their early years the collarless suit crafted by tailor Dougie Millings was modelled on an original Pierre Cardin design and reworked into something distinctively their own. It was this moment that established them as fashion forerunners not followers. By 1967 the register had shifted entirely and the costumes for Sgt. Pepper drew on the dress uniforms of Edwardian officers. Nehru-collared tunics adorned with fringed epaulettes, rank insignia and campaign medals borrowed, in Lennon’s case, from the family of the band’s former drummer. The effect was grandeur stripped of authority, with the silhouette of power repurposed.

The second register is contemporary and more commercial. Sam Mendes is currently in production of the four separate Beatles biographical films, each to be simultaneously released telling the story of the band from each perspective. The production is already generating significant cultural anticipation, and the fashion industry has been quick to respond. Saint Laurent and Paul Smith have both introduced quiet nods to 1960s tailoring, slim silhouettes and collarless jackets returning to collections that until recently showed little interest in the decade. This is not coincidental, and recent films such as Elvis and Rocketman demonstrably reignited interest in retro glam and Americana style leading to surges in trend across many brands. The Mendes project, at four films rather than one, promises a more sustained cultural footprint. The high collars and modestly ornamented design brings the military silhouette back into civilian dress as a quietly authoritative shape in a man’s wardrobe.

Few designers currently illustrate this surge in trend more compellingly than Aaron Esh whose spring/summer 2026 presentation borrowed techniques from 1930s couture for clothes that feel more at home in basement clubs. His stated ambition, ‘craft for life not for show,’ captured this sensibility clearly and is evidenced in his handling of military references. The tailored suede M-65 field jackets and covered button military shirts of his collection, silhouettes that have since appeared at Dior, confirm the lineage. It is demonstration of how military dress has always possessed a latent glamour that civilian fashion cannot quite leave alone.

However, the danger lies in the distance between inspiration and pastiche. A man in a beautifully cut, slightly cropped jacket with a subtle collar reads as considered and contemporary; the same man in the full period-accurate military dress reads as something entirely different. Fashion borrows most productively from the past when it takes the silhouette and abandons the specificity. It is the shape of the soldier, not the soldier himself that translates more compellingly into the wardrobe of those with softer occupations.

Image credit: Pursuit 

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