Here a check, there a check, everywhere a Novacheck OR: What not to keep buying

One of the easiest ways to always look great is to remember that style, in large part, is about avoiding dressing like an idiot. Or, like everyone else -- especially when they're dressing like idiots.

Today, I've decided to tackle an issue that's long been vexing both men and women's fashion -- something that I've hoped would sort itself out, but still shows only a hint of abating.

At issue is the use and abuse of one of the classic fashion patterns: the Burberry house check, the novacheck plaid. Here's the network TV pitch: A tasteful idea is driven to madness by rampant consumerism, misguided adventurism and sheer folly.

But first, a brief history of the Burberry house check. Burberry's [sic -- the name was officially changed to "Burberry" just a few years ago] came into being in Hampshire, England, in the mid-1800s. By the end of the century, the brand had won wide acclaim, particularly among sportsmen of the day, for its innovations in fabric (specifically gabardine, the waterproof sensation developed and patented by Thomas "Old Tom" Burberry) and outerwear (specifically, the equally sensational gabardine trench coat.)


Burberry's reputation soared through the early 1900s, receiving commissions to design military officers' uniforms and to outfit famous adventurers. There's a Burberry gabardine tent left at the south pole, it's said, and King Edward was such a fan of the brand that he's said to have called for his coat by saying "Give me my Burberry." I can't think of a major menswear brand today that can evoke a similar sense of refined sportiness and masculinity and (simultaneously) the upscale.

The 1920s saw the introduction of the Burberry's camel, black, white and red novacheck -- as a lining for the company's gabardine trench coats. This bears repeating: a lining for the company's flagship outwear garment. That is to say, the Burberry's house check was unseen almost all the time, except for fleeting moments such as when a man wore or removed his coat.

By the late 60s, Burberry's of London began expanding use of the house check slightly, to also include accessories such as umbrellas, luggage, and scarves.

Fast-forward some decades. Times change, tastes change, and companies change. By the 90s, the onetime luxury brand Burberry's of London found itself in a rut, perceived generally as a raincoat maker. Ugh.

Burberry's subsequent turnaround story is one for the record books, and students of the fashion industry's business side will probably be pouring over accounts of the brand's phenomenal revitalization well into the next century. But while the company's -- now Burberry Group -- financial performance has seen quarters of heady growth, something got lost along the way. Self-respect, perhaps?

The theatrically named Rose Marie Bravo and designer Christopher Bailey (ex-Gucci) are credited with restoring Burberry's fortunes in the late 90s -- principally by expanding use of the house check to hitherto unprecedented levels.

Bravo and Bailey extended the novacheck to every conceivable item of clothing. Suddenly, you could buy novacheck hats, novacheck shirts, novacheck trousers, novacheck socks, novacheck sandals, novacheck sunglasses, novacheck watchbands, novacheck formalwear, novacheck swimwear, novacheck underwear. (Women, as it happens, had even more choices. Novacheck bikinis, anyone?) And believing the novacheck signified both status and, now, hipness, the average consumer invested in it heavily. Too heavily.

Now, we've seen similar overexposed pattern/logo problems with Gucci, Coach, Fendi, and especially with Louis Vuitton (which, to its credit, has been kind enough to generally limit to bags its nigh-omnipresent brown "LV" signature pattern). But Burberry went over the top. The novacheck pattern was never meant to be this visible.

Seemingly overnight, the novacheck -- which began as a lining, remember? -- had gone from sophisticated to banal. No one seemed to recognize that the pattern, in excess, looked positively garish, visually assaulting. The more we saw it become overexposed, the check lost its cachet as a reliable, respectable, classy and adventurous British brand. Aiming for hip, Bravo pushed the novacheck into triteness.

Today, after excess in the early 2000s and the introductions of variations on the pattern (in pastels and greys, and in a stripe) the classic Burberry pattern itself no longer feels stylish. It's no longer classily subtle. It's not even stylishly flamboyant. It merely comes across as hackneyed.

Hackneyed? Oh, yes. Bravo hadn't stopped the adulteration of the Burberry's brand by applying the novacheck to every type of dress and casual attire imaginable... Anyone recall seeing skateboards sporting the novacheck? The novacheck diaper bag? The novacheck sun visor? The horror, the horror. This crap was OUT the moment it hit the stores!




Your takeaways from this diatribe: Don't buy anything novacheck'd -- yes, not even fakes, dimwit -- save for (maybe) a scarf or (maybe, maybe) an umbrella. Meanwhile, hope and pray that the novacheck reverts from an overblown, overused eyesore to an earlier, classier level of restrained visibility.

Until then, we can mourn the passing of a once-high-flying classic design. Seems fitting, considering that today marks the 78th anniversary of Thomas Burberry's death. Well, not really. He died April 4, 1926. But it makes for a better story, huh? I actually just wrote because of all the tourists outside my building, cooing at the Burberry knockoffs being hawked by the fake handbag seller there. Maybe I'll just republish this piece next April. Better let, let's just hope that I don't have to.