If there was any justice in this world, The Birdcage would have not only had at least one nomination in nearly every category at the 69th Academy Awards in 1997, but Eliane May would have a damn Oscar for her screenplay based on the original 1978 French film La Cage aux Folles, and don’t even get me started on the fact that Nathan Lane still doesn't even have a nomination to his name. But Ann Roth winning best costume for The English Patient—which swept up that year—and not even getting nominated for her work making Lane, Hank Azaria, a bunch of drag queens, and especially Robin Williams look incredible in The Birdcage should rank up there as one of the all-time great screw ups in the history of the Academy.
Still, it’s not like I’m trying to cry out that The Birdcage is some overlooked or lost classic. It’s hardly that. It was a huge success. One that, according to the Mike Nichols biography Mark Harris put out a few years back, had the director feeling so good after a couple of rough years he could only smile and say, “Fuck you bastards! You thought I couldn’t do this anymore? Well, look at this.” And as for Williams, who’d win his first and only Oscar the following year for his role in Good Will Hunting, it was his chance to show yet another side of his incredible talent and dress like an absolute king.
Seeing one or a hundred posts about how Robin Williams was a king of great fits has become pretty commonplace these days. Whether it was some 1990s streetwear grail or showing up on the red carpet in Issey Miyake, the guy was an assassin who made everything he wore 100 percent more fun. But as Armand Goldman, the middle-aged owner of the South Beach nightclub The Birdcage is named after, Williams showcased a look that is so instantly familiar to anybody that spent time on the Atlantic Coast of Florida from West Palm to South Beach in the 1990s. It’s comfortable but chic, a look that could really work for any body type, but especially those of us that have a little paunch and hair on our shoulders and chest. For me, in the summertime, I look to Armand Goldman as one of my main style inspirations. I’ve taken a few things from his playbook and added them to my own, and the thing I’ve come away with is that it all starts with the chest. You need to wear a shirt that looks natural with a few buttons undone, and even better, you could just wear a tank top under it and just leave the whole thing open. Just think about the scene where Christine Baranski is going wild over all of Armand’s chest hair. If you’ve got it, you’ve got to flaunt it.
It’s not just the looks, though; the whole ‘90s South Beach vibe is really hard to beat as a summertime mindset. You can go ahead and say all you want about Florida and its many woes, make fun of the schmuck governor, and post all the Florida Man memes you’d like, but Miami and most of South Florida in the 1990s will forever stick in my mind as a glorious time and place. Mostly because it was part of the country I visited the most—multiple times a year to visit family—but also since everybody looked like they were having the time of their lives no matter what their age was. It was truly colorful, from the art deco of South Beach to the bagel place my Nana used to take me to that was all teal, and pink with a lot of Memphis Group-influenced design even though I’m not sure if you said Ettore Sottsass around the owners, they’d say “gesundheit.” Years ago, when I interviewed one of the area’s more famous transplants, Iggy Pop, he told me that he’d been living in Mexico but things started getting shady down there, and when he went to Miami in 1995, “It was so quiet, and nobody knew who I was, and there was the beach. There was the ocean, there was the end of all the tension and complications." That really sums up what everybody who lived there at the time sort of gave off.
And The Birdcage really shows off that lifestyle beautifully, at least until Armand’s son comes home and asks his father to play straight to impress his new fiance’s conservative politician father. The South Beach of 1996 in The Birdcage shows off a bridge between old and classic and modern chic. The movie is now retro or vintage just based on the fact that it’s nearly 30 years old, but even by ‘90s standards, there was a lot of old-school to be found throughout. Whether it’s the 1957 Ford Thunderbird Armand and Albert get around in, or the Carlyle, the art deco beauty from 1938 used as the facade of the club in the film, everything is balanced with a touch of modern, but never too much. You saw a lot of that in movies from the 1990s, whether it was Swingers, a bloody Quentin Tarantino flick, or Cher Horowitz’s, um, unrequited crush, Christian. His whole look, his car, saying “clam bake,” the last decade of the 20th century saw a lot of effortlessly blending classic, retro, etc. into modern stories. But I think The Birdcage does it the best, and I think other people have started to realize that if they didn’t already.
I’ve been really invested in the proliferation of the camp collar over the last few years. They’ve become a summer staple again over the last few years, and I’ve been loving it. Some might see Tony Soprano’s influence or how this is the Summer of Kramer, and I won’t argue with either of those theories. But I also think that tweet I posted above and its popularity really does hit on something that has been overlooked for a few years, and that’s the influence The Birdcage has had on lots of people, not just as a great film, but as a style template. I wish more people dressed like Robin Williams in The Birdcage because it’s comfortable as hell. But the camp collar is a good place to start.
One problem is that there are so many camp collars out there these days that it can be tough to know what to look for, so my main rule of thumb is this: I like something that flows for a more chill thing, if I’m going to dinner and want to wear one, I’ll likely get one that fits a little better that I can tuck in if that’s what I want to do. I tell most people that you can’t go wrong with the ones Todd Snyder makes, and one they did recently with Beams is especially good, but some of the knits I’ve seen Scott Fraser put out really stand out if you’re looking for a smaller brand that isn’t as widely available.
The Scott Fraser stuff is a really good example of what makes the Armand Goldman look different from something Tony or Paulie Walnut would wear, and that’s where the cool schlub factor comes in. Now, I don’t mean schlub in a negative way. The opposite. What I’d say Armand Goldman look represents is also the exact opposite of “stealth wealth.” It’s more maximalist, gaudy, untucked, and letting it all flow. Just look at the 2004 Christies auction of two outfits from The Birdcage, including a “black and white print silk shirt with an interior label reading "Dolce & Gabbana/Made in Italy," a white tanktop and a pair of green and yellow striped silk pants; worn in the funny scene when he does his 'Martha Graham, Martha Graham, Martha Graham' number.” It’s styled just as he wore it.
I’m not going to tell you how to dress exactly like Armand Goldman. I sort of despise those “get the outfit” sort of posts that are designed for SEO purposes. I’m more into the vibe. So if you are looking to dress more like him for the summer, you can probably find a nice, baggy silk shirt at a thrift store. Maybe not Versace or Dolce & Gabbana, but likely something with a weird, loud print should be easy enough to find. Then, the big part. The jewelry. Multiple necklaces, bracelets, rings. This is crucial, but the neckwear especially. I wrote about the Cugine chain last year for Town & Country, and this is another example of the Tony Soprano style overlapping with South Beach chill. Of all the jewelry, the necklaces are the most crucial.
As for pants, I know you don’t see Williams wearing shorts in The Birdcage, but I think it’s totally fine to mix them in. The way I do it is slightly shorter shorts, definitely above the knee, a tank top tucked into shorts and puffed out a little, and the shirt totally unbuttoned. If I’m doing this, I tend to wear linen shorts, particularly the ones Banana Republic brought back from the archives. I also like linen trousers from time to time. I’d hoped to get this pair from Wales Bonner when they went on sale, but was too late. Most of the time, I generally like chinos, something pleated. Stag Provisions is a good place to look. They’ve got a pair from Beams+ that I love. For footwear, loafers, or sandals—just not flip-flops! I’d also suggest slippers if you’re willing. The whole point is comfort. Keep telling yourself that and even as the temperatures continue to climb over the next few weeks, you’ll slowly find yourself drifting towards the Armand Goldman mindset.
My advice spend the money. Good linen trousers, particularly the drawstring kind can be had for a reasonable price from places like luxier. You can send them measurements so get them cut wide and loose. They will do the same for shirts. A good linen shirt will last 10 years and the same goes for the trousers.
oh hell yeah baby