Executive Golf Magazine

At Augusta in 2000, flanked by a dozen or so journalists, Doug Sanders stood under the famous old oak tree and went through his usual repertoire. He reminisced, told a few stories and then took some questions. Questions, which eventually, and somewhat inevitably, began to revolve around fashion. “Mr Sanders, Sir,” interjected a cub reporter for a Georgian paper. “Can you tell us a little about the background to your ‘peacock of the fairways’ nickname?”

“Well, my clothes did cause quite a stir,” laughed the American. “They tell me that in the 1960s and early 1970s the two most asked questions in golf were ‘What would Arnold Palmer shoot?’ and ‘What would Doug Sanders be wearing?’”

Both were pertinent enquiries. Green one day, orange the next, purple the day after, no-one could ever predict Sanders’ ensemble. The only thing you could guarantee was that it would match. The two-time Open runner-up never left the house unless his trousers, shirt, socks, shoes, glove and, rumour has it, underpants corresponded. And the American press and public loved him for it. Men’s fashion bible Esquire named him one of the Top 10 Jocks of 1973, while Life magazine wrote: “Doug Sanders wins at golf, girls and living.”

They were only partially right. Despite 20 PGA Tour wins, he never quite won on the biggest stage of all. He never quite took home the major that would have made him a global superstar.

In terms of his fashion legacy it didn’t matter. Sanders’ style laid the foundation for a generation of snappily-dressed American golfers. Jack Nicklaus took a liking to canary yellow and Lee Trevino uncovered all sorts of mystical combinations, but it was Tom Watson who truly picked up the torch and ran with it.

When Watson won the 1977 Open at Turnberry, photographers captured the moment a tartan-sporting, shaggy-haired young man won the most traditional sport’s most traditional tournament and sent that image around the globe. The established stereotype of a golfer had been rocked. The fashionistas had reached the top of the mountain. Then, poof, they were gone.

“Suddenly golf became staid,” remembers notorious clotheshorse Jesper Parnevik. “Golf was very fashionable. Then for some reason the 1980s arrived and everybody started wearing the same oversize outfits.”

Golfers became uniformly-dressed drones who blended into the background. Sure the odd player possessed a recognisable trait (Nick Faldo was synonymous with Pringle; Seve brooded gracefully in navy blue), but, in truth, only one man stood up against the status quo. Only one man dared to be different. There was only one William Payne Stewart.

“Poulter was the brash, cocksure, opinionated leader of the golf punk movement. His clothes ranged from the extreme to the ridiculous”

“Early in 1982, I looked up and saw two guys standing next to me wearing the exact same thing I was,” Stewart said. “That moment I decided I was tired of looking like everyone else. I found a company that made plus-fours, called the guy and told him I wanted to wear his stuff. I debuted them in Atlanta in 1982. I was playing with Lee Trevino and he wore me out with jokes on the 1st tee. But it was fun, and I knew I’d wear them forever.”

Stewart created a look that mixed historical homage with manic modernity. A look so colourful, daring and unique it became indelibly etched on psyches ranging from Ian Poulter (more about him later) to Michael Jackson (Jacko revealed he “loved Stewart’s outfits” when attempting to buy his Floridian mansion).

As Stewart’s lone battle roared into its second decade the world of business began to influence clubhouse attire. Ralph Lauren, Hugo Boss, Hilfiger and Burberry saw an opening and charged straight through it, adding golf to their list of collections and joining Ashworth as the brands to be seen in on the fairways. For a period classic, effortless elegance ruled the roost, then one man came along, one brand bought him for US$40 million and things changed forever.

Tiger Woods’ arrival in the professional arena had a threefold impact on golf clothing. It brought sport and leisure wear giant Nike, and its megabucks, into the game for the first time. It created a culture of hero worship – golfers began purchasing and wearing Tiger’s Sunday red shirt, like a football fan would his club’s strip. And it ushered in a new era of athleticism; a generation of young, fit men who hit the gym instead of the bar and subsequently had the body shape and confidence to sport figure-hugging clothes. The only thing missing from Tiger and his buddies’ washing lines was panache. It was time for Johan Lindeberg to pounce.

“I put a proposition to Jesper (Parnevik),” recalls the eccentric Swedish designer. “I wanted to bring fashion back into golf and I wanted him to help. He agreed and we began our revolution. Now everyone is doing what we do. We’ve changed the whole golfing world.”

Slightly narcissistic he may be (Johan believes he’s done as much for golf as Tiger Woods and that buying his clothes will do more for your game than changing your putter), but there’s no debate his statements are founded on fact.

Soon after Jesper and he began their partnership several other companies introduced tight, bright ranges and golfing stalwarts Pringle and Lyle & Scott modernised, accentuated their diamonds and were rewarded with a foothold in popular culture. Post-Lindeberg golf clothing became enlivened, brash and out there. And no-one embraced it more than Ian Poulter.

“Sanders never left the house unless his trousers, shirt, socks, shoes, glove and, rumour has it, underpants corresponded”

Poulter was the brash, cocksure, opinionated leader of the golf punk movement. His clothes ranged from the extreme to the ridiculous, but they got him noticed and he loved the attention. “All I am doing is expressing myself,” he argued. “I feel better in this clothing. When I walk onto the 1st tee, I feel like me. I feel happy and feeling happy makes me play better.”

Clothes improving your game? Preposterous, surely? Apparently, not. “Scoring well has a lot to do with state of mind,” reveals top sports psychologist Dr Karl Morris. “And what you wear can help. If you look good, then you feel good and if you feel good, then you play good.”

The problem was in 2004 and 2005 some people started looking anything but good. In a bid to outdo their peers, golf’s new ‘characters’ waded further and further into the realms of ludicrousness. Poulter’s Union Jack trousers were newsworthy, but crass. Darren Clarke decided to wage his own most ridiculous slacks competition. And Sergio Garcia’s colour-coding became non-existent. A precipice had been reached. It was time for the Clown Prince to reel his jesters in.

“I want to create style, not clowns,” announced Lindeberg at the beginning of 2006. “Golfers have begun going out and screaming colours and that’s wrong. I’ve decided to scale my collection back and go for a more classic look.”

He did and he wasn’t alone. Over the past couple of seasons, Adam Scott (Burberry), Luke Donald (Polo by Ralph Lauren), Nick Dougherty (Hilfiger) and, perhaps most surprisingly, Poulter (Ian Poulter Design) have all retreated from the ridiculous. Clashing colours have been replaced with dazzling, sole-coloured polo-shirts, and, particularly in the case of Lindeberg-clad Colombian Camilo Villegas, it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“He’s the best-looking, most-stylish golfer ever,” claims Lindeberg, and while, again, this may be a tad hyperbolic, GQ magazine agrees.

In 2006 the publication named Villegas as one of America’s Top 10 hottest bachelors. And, judging from the furore he created during the 2006 Ford Championship at Doral, that verdict seems spot on.

After three days mixing golfing brilliance with sartorial beauty, the 24-year-old went into the final round just behind world No.1 and Sunday playing partner Tiger Woods. The city of Miami went ballistic. Over 50,000 people flocked to the course. A record crowd, which filled out purely and simply, because people wanted two questions answered. What would Tiger shoot? And what would Villegas be wearing? Golf fashion had come full circle. Doug Sanders’ heir had arrived.

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