Time is a mirage. For it seems as if it was yesterday that the James Bond film Casino Royale (2006) was released. A success both artistically and commercially, it saved the Bond franchise from teetering over the edge after the preceding two entries, The World is Not Enough (1999) and Die Another Day (2002), set the stage to either sink or swim. Now, us guys definitely received our money’s worth, what with the Aston-Martin DBS and all the expertly choreographed Krav Maga-influenced fighting, etc. Even the film’s opening and credits sequences were on the mark. Yet apparently, the film also delighted the fairer sex just as much.
I actually remember overhearing female chatter at Middlebury College – this elite academic institution of all places – with one lass to the other imploring, “You have to see Casino Royale!” Huh? When did women start raving about action films? The real shocker, though, was the chorus of light, high-pitched gasps and giggles at the cinema the moment Daniel Craig’s Bond emerged from the Bahaman surf wearing those baby-blue swim trunks of his. Raw, unvarnished objectification, it was. At least they could’ve been discreet about it, following the example set by Vesper Lynd, who generally keeps it to herself when she indulges. But yeah, women are so visual.
Fact: “We need you looking like James Bond.”
Evidently, powers and interests and principalities continue to fancy Casino Royale to this day, and one that I represent seems to share Vesper’s opinion that “there are dinner jackets and dinner jacket.” For I was informed last year by the organization’s liaison to obtain the latter. The heads-up came just before Thanksgiving. “Invest in a tailored dinner jacket,” the liaison said. “We need you looking like James Bond.”
Now, my attitude would’ve been entirely upbeat had the imperative been to purchase a Walther PPK. I’m certainly for that even if I am a Sig-Sauer man, but a tailored dinner jacket? Sure, I recognized it was a reasonable stipulation since I am the face of Voyageurs Fieldsport or something and I was to speak before the public. And yet I still balked.
A Dash of Literary Folly
“James Bond draws from an MI6 expense account!” I exclaimed defiantly. But Moneypenny cooly replied that was neither here nor there regarding Operation Montenegro, as the organization had no choice but to manage expectations in light of the voyageursfieldsport.com homepage photo of me gazing upon Glen Etive to the effect of 007 in Skyfall. The reality was the public now had this preconceived notion that couldn’t be ignored, and it was imperative that I look like a man who belongs at the table.
“It’s just a snapshot!” I retorted. But that elicited only silence, and so I persisted. “You know I wear a Timex, not a Rolex, don’t you? That’s the kind of guy I am!” Moneypenny, however, simply remarked that, starting with Goldeneye (1995), Bond always has sported Omega watches. “Same idea,” I growled.
Back to Fact
I’m obviously having a bit of fun, here. Nonetheless, my assignment really was to appear before the public “looking like James Bond.” Those were the organization’s words, not mine. And yes, it was a plum one as far as assignments go, especially since it may have laid the groundwork for an African hunting safari at cut-rate, redeemable within the next 5-years.
Well, in the end, I managed to find a tailor to my liking – William Field II of Field English Custom Tailors in Washington, D.C. – and he subsequently constructed the requested top garment with matching trousers as well as a button-fly shirt. But retrospectively, my initially tepid posture toward ‘investing’ in a tailored dinner jacket was always unwarranted given my personality. You see, there’s this French maxim – La chasse conduit à tout – to which facts attest and I subsequently believe: Hunting leads to everything.1 And it turns out that even includes the dinner jacket.
The Advent of the Dinner Jacket
As it stands, many articles of clothing are rooted in the pursuit of game. Although to be precise, this time it is the lifestyle surrounding the hunt rather than the hunt itself from which the garment in question is derived. For the dinner jacket is the brainchild of King Edward VII (1841 – 1910, reign 1901 – 1910), who desired to wear an aprés la chasse-style evening top garment in place of the standard tailcoat when at Sandringham House, his Norfolk sporting estate. What he essentially wanted was something for evening festivities that harmonized with the daytime hunting of gamebirds there. Conceptually then, it was to be short – falling only to the hips – in the manner of a shooting jacket.
Edward VII needed the right tailor, though, to develop his sartorial concept into a real article of clothing, and subsequently commissioned Henry Poole & Co. of London’s Saville Row to execute the project. And it proved to be an excellent choice. For Henry Poole himself was active in fieldsports and therefore understood what an aprés la chasse-style top garment ought to be. Moreover, the firm’s original business was the making of military apparel – an important detail, given that hunting and warfare are really two sides of the same coin such that what is appropriate dress for the one often is also for the other.2
Regarding the remark immediately above, simply consider the use of khaki and pattern camouflage on the battlefield. Both trace back to the Jacobite Lord Elcho (1721 – 1787), who raised a London-Scottish regiment to fight on behalf of Bonnie Prince Charlie. Recognizing that a soldier was in fact a manhunter, he figured while outfitting his men that they must adopt the deerstalker’s custom of wearing apparel that allows them to fade into the landscape instead of the bright, stand-out military garb of the time. The resulting uniform was made of an estate tweed called the Elcho mixture.3
Very well, what Henry Poole & Co. delivered was a comfortable to wear, military-inspired jacket that was high-hemmed, single-buttoned, fronted with either peaked or shawl lapels, and rendered in either black or celestial blue. Et voilà: la veste de dîner. The final product, though, was initially treated as a curiosity by guests at Sandringham House. Even so, Edward VII successfully established the dinner jacket there as the standard men’s evening top garment by the 1880s such that a gent, upon receiving an invitation to visit, would have Henry Poole & Co. make him one in anticipation.
Et tout conduit à la chasse.
So, why do many people on these shores refer to the dinner jacket as the ‘tuxedo?’ The reason is that a number of American visitors to Sandringham House were also members of the Tuxedo Club, which was an exclusive association and one that was the social arm of the fenced hunting preserve and gated community of Tuxedo Park, New York. While no one truly knows who introduced it there, dinner jackets were commonly worn at the club’s evening festivities by the turn of the 20th Century. Naturally, when those same individuals sported the top garment elsewhere and onlookers who inquired about it were informed that it was what men “wear for dinner up in Tuxedo,” it soon gained the moniker, ‘tuxedo.’4,5
I must, however, stress a characteristic of provenance before closing. Once again, the Tuxedo Club was first and foremost the social arm of a high and mighty hunting preserve. And among all the events of its social season, the grandest one was the Autumn Ball at which debutantes were presented to society as – drum-roll, please – huntresses for husbands. Hah! What did I state most recently in the 14 February, 2026 dispatch, A Short Valentine’s Day Treatise on Male Strutting? It’s that romantic discourse between men and women is hunting at its finest. And as such, it’s subsequently worth the effort for a man to turn-out nicely when going afield in search of (or with) his lady.
Now, what I want you to do is first close your eyes and transport yourself to the Tuxedo Club’s Autumn Ball of, say, 1909. It’s pre-World War One, which means Western Civilization is still basking in Edwardian grandeur. Okay, open them and, looking around, what do you see? Uh-huh, betwixt and between and roundabout the lovely ‘huntresses’ are all these young fellas, who are also on the prowl. And because they are, each one is wearing his favorite article of hunting clothing. Yes, life is a two-way street. Everything, in turn, leads to hunting – even the dinner jacket.
Bond. James Bond
Whether you call it a dinner jacket or a tuxedo, the top garment is just as fashionable today as it was at the turn of the 20th Century and as it was when James Bond, played by Sean Connery, was introduced to the movie-going public in Dr. No (1962) wearing one in the opening scene. In fact, 007 wears a dinner jacket in 23 of the 25 Eon Productions films.6 That puts it ahead of many Bond tropes. Yet, a Walther PPK appears in every film, and that’s what I want.7 Consequently, if the organization ever desires that I look like James Bond again, then I’m getting one. Moreover, since Bond draws from an MI6 expense account, then I should have one, too.
“Work it out with M,” I’ll say to Moneypenny. “Tell that monument that I’ve seen On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969). It’s actually my favorite of the series, and resigning will fit the public’s preconceived notion of me should the request be denied. Watch the hyperlinked clip and you’ll know. Besides, with no public engagements on my schedule, I’ll be free to hunt Blofeld ’til my heart’s content. I can’t lose. So, what’ll it be: an MI6 expense account or having all the time in the world?”
- It’s unsurprising given that hunting is humanity’s fundamental secular vocation. ↩︎
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Poole_%26_Co ↩︎
- https://sprucelondon-magazine.co.uk/textiles/estate-tweeds/ ↩︎
- https://www.americanheritage.com/tuxedo-park# ↩︎
- https://www.gentlemansgazette.com/tuxedo-black-tie-guide/black-tie-tuxedo-history/dinner-jacket-debut/ ↩︎
- https://www.bondsuits.com/the-60-year-legacy-of-the-dr-no-dinner-suit/ ↩︎
- https://www.thejamesbonddossier.com/lifestyle/guns/guns-in-james-bond-movies.htm ↩︎