Forty-nine years after convincing a generation of men that white three-piece suits were a good idea in Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta has become an accidental fashion influencer by donning a beret on the Cannes Film Festival red carpet.
Wearing the French alternative to an Akubra to promote his directorial debut, Propeller One-Way Night Coach, Travolta has garnered more attention than Joan Collins in a strapless white gown, Jane Fonda in a sequinned bodysuit and his Michael co-star Andie MacDowell wearing a sheer black dress.
While these women of a certain age are celebrated for their fashion bravery, 72-year-old Travolta’s style switch-up has gone viral as keyboard warriors comment scathingly from underneath backwards baseball caps. Is it to hide facelift scars? Hair implants? Are berets the latest sign of a three-quarter life crisis?
In solidarity with the man who made tiny grey gym shorts a workout essential in Perfect, opposite Jamie Lee Curtis, and almost brought back the bolo tie in Pulp Fiction, I decided to wear a beret for a day.
You can find classic berets for $10 at Spotlight stores, but I’m guessing Travolta spent more on his makeover, so I approached Somewhere Here Now milliner Andrea Cainero, who has capped the heads of Kate Waterhouse and undercover blogger Fashion Critical, for options.
“Are you sure?” Cainero asks. “I don’t know if it suits him. Grease is my all-time favourite movie and this is very different.
“It’s definitely a look.”
Morning
It would be so much easier if my coffee order was a long black instead of a three-quarter flat white. Opening with “I like my berets like my coffee: black,” might have broken the surprisingly thick ice with my usually sunny baristas of choice.
The small black design, similar in structure to a military beret, without the traditional spike on the top, which was originally the starting knot for knitted styles, is garnering curious stares from caffeine-deprived customers.
The baristas, who are usually generous with a compliment at 7.20am, remain silent. I am clutching my coffee and out the door in record time, doing my best not to interpret this – along with the absence of the usual heart in my foam – as a sign they’re worried I will deter other customers.
What was I expecting? A simple merci or the offer of a croissant? So far, I’m feeling flatter than my coffee and my hat. I need some Emily in Paris optimism.
I take to heart some advice from leading British milliner Stephen Jones, who works with Dior and created a beret for F1 champion Lewis Hamilton for last year’s Met Gala.
“You have to remember a beret was traditionally a man’s hat, not a woman’s hat, so John Travolta looks convincing, whereas Emily in Paris has a bit of a question mark over her,” Jones says.
Afternoon
To be fair, hard-nosed journalists who deal with major crime, war and Sydney real estate prices are used to the sartorial experiments of the fashion department. If a pleather skirt failed to cause stirrings in office cubicles, a beret falls significantly short.
Billie Eder, one of the more stylish members of the sports department, is effusive with praise, but she travelled to the Italian fashion capital, Milan, for the Winter Olympics and knows her Carhartt from her Country Road.
Organising the portrait for this article, photographic editor Danielle Smith attempts to assist with selecting a beret. “Can I say that I don’t like any of them?” she asks.
I think the photograph really captures the disappointment in my eyes.
Fashion appointment
I have a meeting in Ralph Lauren’s head office to look at their latest collection of Americana.
The stylists and publicist are as tight-lipped as the baristas. This might be because Lauren is more of an Anglophile, with a penchant for Western motifs, than a Francophile – something I will remember if I ever need to test-drive a bowler or cowboy hat.
When in doubt, blame your tools. Perhaps it’s the hat. I step into Myer and track down a traditional beret in brown wool, with the spike. Explaining a beret to the finance department is far above my pay grade, so I’m relieved to see that it’s marked down by 40 per cent to $17.97.
The Travolta effect has clearly not kicked in yet.
On the train back to the office, the beret evokes no comment. Looking around, I see men wearing battered cowboy styles, baseball caps, bucket hats and turbans. I am reminded of the TV series Schitt’s Creek where Alexis Rose (Annie Murphy) advises her anxiety-ridden brother, played by Dan Levy, that “no one cares, David”.
It all seems to be going well until I return to my desk and my boss tells me that I look like a mushroom. The tone is affectionate. The result? Devastating. I care.
Evening
For a dinner celebrating the launch of Georg Jensen’s latest jewellery collection, at a private home in Woollahra, I ditch my champignon beret and return to Somewhere Here Now, selecting a beret-adjacent Peaky Blinder’s style pearl-strewn cap.
Between air kisses my hat receives a number of compliments.
“It’s rather My Beautiful Laundrette,” says former Vogue editor Kirstie Clements, referring to the Daniel Day Lewis character Johnny in the 1987 film.
“Hello John,” says celebrity caterer and podcaster Savva Savas. The gig is up.
The verdict
If wearing a beret makes you as happy as Travolta, go for it. Did it make me happy? For most of the day, no.
I felt like I was wearing a country’s culture as my costume and was a moustache away from being cast in an ill-advised ’Allo ’Allo! reboot.
The exception to my beret ban was the evening hat. I didn’t feel happy, I felt fabulous.
In the words of Travolta’s Grease character, Danny Zuko, it’s “The one I need. Oh, yes, indeed.”
Make the most of your health, relationships, fitness and nutrition with our Live Well newsletter. Get it in your inbox every Monday.
