“He told me to look sharp and meet him at Modell’s in half an hour” — Christopher Moltisanti, The Sopranos, S03 EP03, The Fortunate Son.
It’s usually all about Tony. During the Great Sopranos Rewatch of 2020, new fans and those returning to the show after the sourdough starter didn’t quite take were, naturally, drawn to the troubled mob boss. A crumbling capo the size of a Samsung Smart Fridge. A lover of ducks carrying the weight of the world – or at least the New Jersey sanitation industry – on sloped shoulders. James Gandolfini’s greatest creation was both a complex antihero and an unlikely style icon. Silky shirts, depressioncore bathrobes, gold Rolexes and boxy Range Rovers. He was, with his Tabasco camp collar, big slacks and glittering pinky rings, the unaware pinup of 2000s nostalgia dressing. A bit Scorsese, a bit Our Legacy, a bit JJJound online moodboard.
Seasons change, the world is subjected to horrors anew and The Sopranos is still a really good television programme. Tony’s influence remains undeniable (the billowy camp collar trend seems as indestructible as FBI agent Dwight Harris’ desire to take down our big brave boy), but I’d like to focus on some of the other characters in the Bada Bingiverse and their strangely prescient outfits. The endless influence of Sopranos style.
It seemed like the revival would burn out fairly quickly — there’s only so much enthusiasm one can sustain for low-slung jeans and trucker caps. But within the wide-ranging wise guy ensemble of the show, you can see a window into how plenty of men are dressing now… shoulder pads notwithstanding. The bucket hats (Christopher); the orange utility vest and Lower East Side urban camo (Bobby), the mesh knit polos (Paulie); the baroque and sexy (which is Italian for sexy) silk shirts (Furio); the oversized blouson leather jackets (everyone); and the emo T-shirts and Slipknot windbreakers (AJ). Walk down the street in any major fashion capital and you’re guaranteed to encounter more than one person with a thread of North Caldwell, N.J. in their outfit.
While the show’s creator, David Chase, deserves credit, costume designer Juliet Polcsa is the one who really shaped the outward-facing universe of the characters and gave the show’s clothes their longevity within the zeitgeist. Rather than rehash old gangster film tropes, Polcsa went out in the field to find out what real made men were wearing. On a 2020 episode of the podcast Talking Sopranos, hosted by Michael Imperioli and Steve Schirripa, Polcsa recalls visiting shops with names like Cache, Jack Charles – her “Goomba” store – and The Garage, where she was advised by owners who sold clothes to actual NJ mobsters.
“What David wanted was reality,” says Polcsa. “He didn’t want stereotypes or preconceived thoughts of what a mob family was. Much to my surprise, when I started looking into it and doing research and finding these stores where these guys shopped, it was running suits and garish shirts. The Tommy Hilfiger and modern young guy stuff [worn by Christopher].” She also revealed that Tony Sirico didn’t like putting clothes over his head, which is interesting.
This school of anthropological costume design has been continued by the likes of Miyako Bellizzi, the stylist responsible for Adam Sandler’s Ferragamo belt, Cartier shades and leather blazers in the Safdie’s Uncut Gems (with help from photographer and consultant Mordechai Rubinstein); and in Oscar Isaac’s slouchy tonal pin-up professor in HBO’s remake of Scenes from a Marriage. There’s an idiosyncrasy and worn-in authenticity to how these household names wear their clothes on the screen. Much like how Christopher’s Nike tracksuits and Paulie’s string vests pinned to track pants with suspenders feel both outlandish and hyper-real. The sort of thing you really could imagine a mid-tier consigliere buying and showing off after a betting shop shakedown.
The themes of The Sopranos are universal and timeless: family, finances, mental health, love, life, death and gabagool. The clothes are, too.
