The Smoking Jacket
Next time you bridle at stuffing yourself into a tuxedo to meet a formal dress code, remember that that monkey suit you’re dreading is the spawn of the smoking jacket. Yes, back in the day—before 1865—when Downton-Abbey-caliber people changed their clothes for dinner, there were no tuxedos. Gentlemen supped in really formalwear: tailcoats. At meal’s end, men went off for cigars, but not before ditching their tailcoats for a smoking jacket. After all, you needed a garment to absorb smoke and other detritus before you rejoined the gentler sex in your tails. Such jackets were more like short robes made of colorful velvet, silk and satin. England’s then Prince of Wales—the guy who announced “gentlemen, you may smoke” upon the death of his cigar unfriendly mother—appreciated their comfort and ordered a similar jacket in black wool to wear at dinner. In America, that “dinner jacket” became so well associated with tony Tuxedo Park in New York State, that it borrowed the name.
All of which is to say that smoking jackets are an acceptable alternative when the invitation reads “black tie.” They come in two basic formats. The first is the buttonless robe type that ties with a sash, the kind that Hugh Hefner wore over pajamas. It’s for home use. Don’t wear one out to dinner. The second is more structured, with soft shoulders and buttons or braided frog closures. The shawl lapels are faced with solid-colored satin. The contrasting body may be solid or whimsically patterned and is usually single-breasted. However, the clothes horse Fred Astaire wore a double-breasted one in the movie Three Little Words that would sell at Bonhams for almost $7,000. He’s also said to have been buried in a smoking jacket. Known for dancing in a white tie and tails, Astaire must be happy to have gotten out of that monkey suit.
