How Wes Anderson changed menswear

Telegraph

18-05-2025

Ralph Fiennes's patrician Monsieur Gustave scrutinises Zero's outfits in The Grand Budapest Hotel, adjusting the porter boy's skewed hat. Luke Wilson's Richie Tenenbaum pairs his tennis band with camel suits in The Royal Tenenbaums. Adrien Brody 's waifish Peter Whitman tweaks his louche suit in the rickety washrooms of an Indian train in The Darjeeling Limited.
In Wes Anderson 's rich cinematic world, it's hard to choose a favourite stylistic moment because style is an overarching visual love letter across the entire Anderson-verse.
Fashion and dress are so gloriously part of the aesthetic that it's hard to tell where the costumery begins and the character ends. Likewise the scenography; those startling shots of deliciously asymmetric, candy-hued, retro-tinged buildings from the French Alps to rural India. This month, his cinematic universe expands with The Phoenician Scheme, starring Benicio del Toro as a beleaguered father, debuting at the Cannes Film Festival.
To delve into the cinematography of Anderson's constellation of movies would be to embark upon a masters in film studies at New York University, so we'll hone in on one element he does oh-so-brilliantly and evocatively; men's style. Much akin to how women's dress can eclipse men's, particularly in arenas like the red carpet, some of Anderson's stellar leading ladies tend to drink up the screen time in terms of how arresting they are.
For example, Gwyneth Paltrow as Margot Tenenbaum in the cult 2001 film; that razor sharp bob, smudgy eye make up and plush fur coat going on to become the stuff of stylish legend, or Tilda Swinton as the decrepit Madame D in The Grand Budapest Hotel, drooping with knuckle duster jewels against her faded velvet gowns and liver spots.
But the men's fashion legacy in Anderson's films is equally sensational, made all the more iconic by the 56-year-old director's own stylish presence on the red carpet – a walking advertisement for his distinct brand of retro cool. 'I get criticised for style over substance,' the filmmaker has said, 'and for details that get in the way of the characters. But every decision I make is about how to bring those characters forward.'
'One of Anderson's obsessions as a filmmaker is group identity – the ways in which typically odd and arcane communities and clubs change the self-image of those they welcome in and exclude,' says Robbie Collin, The Telegraph 's chief film critic. 'So like so many things in his films, Anderson's costumes often signal their wearers's insider status – the family tracksuits worn by Ben Stiller and his twin boys in The Royal Tenenbaums, or the Whitman brothers' flannel suits and monogrammed luggage in The Darjeeling Limited all nod towards shared histories and the sadnesses buried within them.
They express the same arm's-length coolness that his detractors often attribute to the films themselves; if you're not in the gang, it says, you couldn't possibly understand.'
While they're never painfully 'historical', Anderson's universe is one of retroism; there's rarely the stark reality of 2025 (and quite honestly who'd want that?). His films cherry pick different bygone eras – 1980s India, 1970s Manhattan – and luxuriates in them, and the men's style presence throughout is always brilliant on point.
Take The Royal Tenenbaums for instance; Ben Stiller and the brothers in their siren red tracksuits, or the bruised, battered but nevertheless endlessly stylish Louis Vuitton luggage sported in The Darjeeling Limited. There's Timothée Chalamet's modish, minimalist suits in The French Dispatch, and a personal favourite is the suave, meticulous Monsieur Gustave in The Grand Budapest Hotel, in his uniform a regal purple in a sea of lesser men.
Costumes come courtesy of some of the finest names in fashion; Anderson works steadfastly with Oscar winning costume director Milena Canonero, and previous collaborations have involved Marc Jacobs during his tenure at Louis Vuitton. In 2013 he collaborated with Miuccia Prada in a short film, Castello Cavalcanti, starring Jason Schwartzman, and went on to design the delightfully saccharine-saturated Bar Luce at the Fondazione Prada in Milan, a rendering of a quaint Milanese cafe through his candy-toned gaze.
Off the screen, Anderson's presence has been felt on the catwalks of Gucci and Miu Miu, as well as Mrs Prada, who cast Anderson favourites Adrien Brody, William Defoe and Gary Oldman, all of them looking suitably Anderson-coded in her 2012 show.
What are the hallmarks of an Anderson menswear look? Well, a sepia-tinted ode to vintage, first and foremost. See the director's own donnish suits – usually in a rich hue as opposed to standard issue black – for starters, lean as you like to fit his rakish frame, usually in corduroy, perhaps seersucker for summer. They're deliberately non-corporate, as you'd expect from a pioneering creative. The suiting – both on the director and in his movies – is a particular case in point; usually in a soft-focus colour, with spread collars and louche shapes rather than anything glaringly precise and sharp. Texture features heavily too – the tufted corduroys and supple suedes in camels and taupes.
'In addition to all that, his taste levels are simply off the charts, and I've often pulled outfit ideas from his work,' says Collin.
'I'm a huge fan of the menswear label Drake's – partly because, like Anderson, their clothing takes the language of traditional male dress codes and then tweaks or subverts it a little, so that every piece looks like it has an obscure story behind it. Anyone can break a dress code, but to play revealingly inside one, like Anderson does, has a sophistication and charge to it that I can't resist.'