Red Silk Narrow Width Necktie

These two ties capture the schizophrenic nature of 1970s menswear, when the counterculture's anything-goes ethos collided with traditional suiting. The first tie's exuberant diagonal stripes—those hand-woven bands of coral, turquoise, and forest green—reads like a textile diary of the hippie trail, probably picked up in some Delhi bazaar and worn back to the office as a small act of rebellion.

These two ties capture the 1970s' schizophrenic approach to menswear formality — one foot in rebellion, the other still planted in the boardroom.

These two pieces speak the same language of mid-century masculine restraint, though separated by decades and continents. The sage herringbone trousers carry that distinctly American interpretation of English tailoring—note how the pleats fall with deliberate casualness, the kind of trouser that populated corner offices in the '90s—while the narrow red tie captures the lean Italian elegance of the '70s, when neckwear shrank to pencil-thin proportions.

That chunky brown wool tie with its bold green stripes screams postwar British practicality—the kind of thing a Cambridge don would knot while cycling to lecture halls in November drizzle. Two decades later, that skinny red silk number captures the Continental swagger of 1970s Italy, when men started borrowing from women's fashion vocabulary and weren't afraid to look pretty doing it.