I am temporarily failed by the English language. This advert that I found in the June 1973 issue of "Oui" (purchased for that Ken Russell article that made me SO ENVIOUS of the Flying Maciste Brothers for reading) is just so filled with wrongness that I'm going to have to take a moment to compose myself before continuing.
Witness this full-page spread for LEW MAGRAM--SHIRTMAKER TO THE STARS:
THE DENIM BUSINESS SUIT. Not to be confused with the Redneck Tuxedo, the Denim Business Suit will allegedly take one from work week to weekend. I guess in the days when one could smoke in the office and smack insubordinate lady-workers on the bum without the threat of a termination and lawsuit, it was probably all right to wear an all-denim suit with a disturbing bib-tie and checkered hypno-shirt.
THE DAMASCUS KAFTAN. Available in HIS and HERS! Also has an adorable pointy hood. Brave enough to wear horizontal stripes? Then surely taking the step over the line to psychedelic wizard-dom is but a small one.
THE SOHO BODYSUIT. This can only be described as the satanic spawn between a Dr. Thaddeus Venture "speedsuit" and a circa-1986 Frederick's of Hollywood teddy. In short: unsafe at any speed.
A quick perusal of the Lew Magram online catalog leads me to believe that, while the Magram Look remains as scatter-brained and bizarre as ever, males of the species are now safe from the unholy hand of the SHIRTMAKER TO THE STARS. More's the pity, eh?