…(not!) I really hoped we could get through one year of the Academy Awards thing without some pouting performer espousing personal political punditry, but no…there was Mickey Rourke abusing the opportunity with his fashion statement about the dangers of economic containment and protectionism. For me though, If ever there was a case to “buy American,” Mickey sealed it, with his “I’m Back, Staying Alive” duds.
I’m not a believer in the notion that it is necessary for bad history to repeat itself every thirty or so years, and Mickey’s emulation of Travolta’s 1977 Tony Manero role was, without exception. New York City’s personal stylist to “The Wrestler,” Michael Fisher, attempted redemption with this explanation;
“Mickey kind of gravitates toward Italian designers; they kind of have that machismo, macho aesthetic already there,” said Fisher, noting that Rourke has been favoring shirts and belts by the line Billionaire Couture and jackets by Dolce & Gabbana.
“Mickey is a personality, and he has his own sense of style. He likes clothes, and he likes expressing himself though clothes. He does it in his acting and he does it in his day-to-day life. Most guys are either going to be safe and, for lack of a better word, boring when it comes to red carpet dressing, just because they don’t have the time or interest, or they’re just too afraid of criticism. And Mickey’s not that. He likes taking the risk, pushing the envelope and being more flashy. And no one else can wear it like Mickey wears it.”
Uh huh. Mickey Rourke is still, Mickey Rourke. Unless there was a bug problem at the Kodak theater, the “roach killer” boots need to go back to their corner, and trust me – there is nothing de rigueur about about sporting a six-foot watch fob sans the disco watch, or neck fob with a pic of your dearly departed Chihuahua.
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