Boomers were all about clothing and style. Bottle green was a hot color one fall and burgundy, the next. Bass Weejuns were the shoes of choice. Anything else was a cheap imitation. Then, in 1962, a fabric called madras was hotter than hot. That Christmas, the only thing I asked for was a madras shirt.
Madras was fairly pricey. I believe a long sleeve madras shirt was about $10, the equivalent of $100 in today’s money. That’s a pretty expensive shirt. I got one, however, and wore it on my first day back at class at Carolina. Lots of other kids had got them too. Instead of Carolina blue, the Chapel Hill campus looked like a hodgepodge of madras.
Madras, of course, is a lightweight cotton fabric, generally in plaid, and used for shirts, shorts, jackets and dresses. The word comes from Madras, the previous name of Chennai, India. The interesting thing about madras was that the fabric had flaws, which gave it even more appeal. I suppose this was the forerunner of the ripped knees, denim jeans, but Boomers fell in love with anything madras. Later, patchwork madras became popular and still is in many preppy men’s shops.
Madras had to be washed by hand in cold water or it would bleed all over itself and anything else in the washing machine. I always sent my shirts off to the cleaners and let them deal with it. Genuine madras also had a peculiar odor, dyed as it was with native vegetable oils for color.
The rise of madras in popularity was an interesting story. It was actually the fabric of the working class in India, but in 1958, Capt. C.P. Krishnan and William Jacobson, both importers, struck a deal to produce 10,000 yards of madras. Brooks Bros. ended up with the fabric but did not put washing instructions on the labels of the first garments and it was a mess.
The Madison Avenue gurus then coined the phrase “guaranteed to bleed” and that did the trick.
Madras is still around, but today it’s just another fabric. For Boomers in 1962, it was the only fabric.